The Demon Hunting Method of the Regressed Inquisitor

The City Waiting for the Sun (1)

Duke Hope’s Territory.

Belial, or rather, Walsres Hope, who was working in his office, suddenly felt a headache and rubbed his temples, frowning.

“Hmm……”

It can’t be because of the hard work.

This is evidence that one of the powers rooted in the source has been uprooted.

“Well, well……”

Walsres Hope let out a hollow laugh. The ＜One Who Draws the Future＞, which he had seized with maximum time and effort, had been struck.

An object imbued with life. At first, it was mere curiosity, but at the point he realized it was a creature with no limits.

He planted the seed, even toppling a nation that was working towards the extinction of humanity.

Although it was a nation created to be destroyed, he even accelerated the timing to obtain Pinocchio.

But that work, into which he had poured his heart and soul, was suddenly destroyed?

“That guy. That masked guy.”

He had been annoying from the first time he saw him. So he tried to deal with him subtly.

Thus, he sent Mez.

But absurdly, Mez encountered ＜The Wanderer＞, who hates black magicians, during the move.

Mez was an entity with potential that could at least be below the level of a trial. Such an entity was absurdly killed.

At that time, it was just absurd.

He just thought that guy was lucky, and he was unlucky, and decided to look for the next opportunity.

It was a misjudgment.

“Yeah……. There’s no way two coincidences would happen in a row.”

It could have been planned that ＜The Wanderer＞ appeared at that moment.

Considering that Hecate, the owner of Necropolis, had ties with the Pantheon in the past, it’s not incomprehensible that those ties haven’t been severed.

He shouldn’t have thought of him as an ant that could be crushed at any time.

The moment he found him annoying, he should have taken the risk and killed him.

“I missed the timing.”

There was a time when he could have killed him.

It would have been a simple matter to step in and twist his neck.

He should have acted when he knew the direction of his movement.

Swish!

Walsres unfolded the map. A country where most of the land is colored with the name of one nation can be seen.

The Empire, ＜Eden＞

His greatest masterpiece, nurtured by devouring the seeds while conquering and destroying small and large nations from within.

A country that can be said to have practically achieved world domination.

A country created from the beginning to be the trigger for destruction.

Hundreds of years were poured into making it.

Thanks to that, most of the map is stained red under the name of Eden.

“Let’s see… Shall we check?”

And on that red land, numerous black dots were marked.

The seeds he planted. When the time comes, they will sprout and turn all the red into black, the harbinger of destruction.

One of the seeds that was supposed to bloom most beautifully disappeared.

Tap.

Belial pointed to a spot.

His rival, and the greatest obstacle outside of brute force.

The Grand Mage, Age Foris’s territory.

He met the masked man here.

It was when he went to check one of the large and small seeds he had planted.

He didn’t pay much attention to the priests of the Pantheon, as they were rampant like bugs all over the world.

So he thought the man had just accidentally discovered one of the seeds he had planted. Of course, he wouldn’t leave anything that bothered him alone.

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Naturally, he intended to deal with it.

He just didn’t put all his effort into it.

He mistakenly thought it was a piece that could be moved lightly.

Tap.

The next place he pointed to was where Mez encountered the ＜Wanderer＞.

At this point, he had to move.

Not just find it unpleasant, but consider the collision with the ＜Wanderer＞ and move directly to kill him.

Tap.

And finally, the place he pointed to was Nidavellir.

“Hmm…”

The path from Foris’s territory to Necropolis and then to Nidavellir.

It fits perfectly.

The man started from the Foris Duchy, passed through the place where Necropolis moves, and arrived at Nidavellir.

The timing also roughly matches.

“But it’s still just a rough guess… It’s a bit lacking to be certain.”

The puzzle pieces don’t fit together.

When calculating the time it took to travel from the Foris Duchy to Necropolis, it fits perfectly.

However, the next part doesn’t quite align. Considering the usual travel speed, the time from arrival to resolution is too short no matter how you look at it.

“Changed the means of transportation…?”

That would make sense.

If the usual means of transportation were changed midway, it’s not impossible.

But how could they have changed the means of transportation? Did they tame a monster on the way? If that were possible, they would have done it long ago.

Did they perhaps acquire a mount in Necropolis? No, given Hecate’s nature, which allows the undead to have free will, it makes no sense for her to provide such a mount.

Tap, tap.

There is suspicion but no certainty.

There aren’t enough pieces to be sure that the man in the mask and the one who attacked the “Future Painter” are the same person.

It would take too much time to move to confirm it.

If they are different people, it might cause confusion in future plans.

“No, the fact that they are the same person isn’t important right now.”

The important thing is that someone interfered with their plan.

Foris Duchy and Nidavellir. If the seeds planted in those two places were uprooted, it means the opponent has already grasped some part of their plan.

Even if it’s just speculation, it’s naturally beneficial to think that way.

So let’s think. Assuming the opponent knows their plan.

How they found out isn’t important. What’s important is how much they know.

Tap, tap, tap.

Walsres tapped the map.

The opponent’s trail was cut off in Nidavellir. They missed the timing to confirm where they would head next.

“Hmm.”

Walsres then drew lines to the cities that could be reached from Nidavellir.

Calculating which villages they might pass through and where they might head, there are at least 40 possibilities.

Moreover, since the travel speed can’t be estimated, the options are even more numerous.

“Just how far…”

Walsres narrowed down a few possibilities from the numerous options.

Assuming the opponent knows their plan, there are at least five.

And there is one case where the opponent knows exactly about ‘himself.’

“Cluck, cluck, cluck.”

In the former case, it is not a big problem. He has planted many seeds, so it is not strange that some of them have been discovered.

But if the opponent knows about an indispensable plan, a plan that must be secret and the most powerful means?

A kind of ‘assumption’ made due to a recent accidental event?

That is not just knowing the plan. It means the opponent has seen through his very existence.

Then, the question that had been suppressed so far finally emerges.

“How do they know?”

He has been hiding in the shadows for thousands of years. The history of the war of the gods has long been erased.

Even if he did not erase it himself, foolish humans created an organization called the Inquisition and diligently erased it.

So, only about three people know about him.

And among them, only two know him exactly.

And those two would never have revealed anything about him to anyone.

Inevitably, his existence would also be exposed.

Then there is only one answer.

It is himself. He revealed his existence to the opponent.

Then how?

“Did they see the future? Or did they come back in time?”

An impossible thing.

But if it is not that, then there is no other possibility.

He does not simply dismiss assumptions as impossible.

If it is an event involving gods, anything can happen.

Those two possibilities will become important in the future.

“Which one are you?”

Walsres smiled as he stared at a point on the map.

The name ‘Rubia, the City Waiting for the Sun’ was written there.

“Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck.”

Click!

At that moment, the office door opened, and a young boy entered.

“Ah! You seem to be in a good mood today, Grandfather.”

“Yes? Then.”

Walsres, who had been smiling eerily, now had the face of a kind old man as if nothing had happened.

It was the kind of smile that made you feel good just by looking at it.

“So, how is my grandson? Do you like your fiancée?”

“Uh… Ahem! Well, she’s not bad. She seems like a good person.”

“Huh! What a coy answer. Your smile is reaching your ears. Is she very pretty?”

“She was average. Ahem, average.”

“A man shouldn’t be so dishonest. Don’t say that outside. That guy Aegis has a fiery temper and might bury you with magic right away.”

“…Yes.”

Walsres smiled as he looked at his grandson, who looked like an ordinary child. In reality, he was.

He had quite a talent, but after all, he was still human.

“Don’t forget that you need to work harder if you want to be of help to me later.”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

“Yes, you must work hard. Indeed.”

The personality built up while not knowing he was a monster would later become a great dagger.

* * *

The optimal means of transportation that deceived the eyes of the great Belial races across the land.

“Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!”

It meant that Titan was pulling the carriage and running fiercely.

Perhaps because he had gotten used to pulling the carriage, the carriage remained quite calm despite Titan’s sprint.

“Thanks to Lord Geppetto. To give us such a great carriage as a gift…”

“The carriage is a bonus. He gave you such a great weapon, didn’t he?”

“The kind of weapon that shatters all the bones in your body after one use.”

“What difference does it make with other weapons? For you, who can only manage one shot anyway, there’s nothing better than this.”

Lost thrust a sniper rifle in front of Claire, who was lying on a blanket on the carriage floor.

A weapon that minimized recoil and could convert holy power into bullets, just like Lost’s revolver.

Of course, even with the small recoil, it shattered bones and was of little use to Claire, who still couldn’t properly handle the holy power that weighed down her body.

‘It’s scary that bullets are made even though it’s of little use.’

Even though the recoil was minimized, it was still a weapon that emphasized a single strike.

Just one shot was enough to break the shoulder bone it was braced against, which showed how fragile Claire was.

“First, keep this in mind. When the time comes for you to shoot that, if you miss, you’ll die right there.”

“That’s really helpful advice. Why don’t you just pray for me to die right now?”

“You really have a nasty personality.”

Lost sighed deeply, looking at Claire, who was sneering with a venomous attitude, as if he was fed up.

Claire still couldn’t grasp the situation.

Unlike Lost, who had wandered through back alleys, Claire had been loved by God since birth.

In the future before the regression, when they reunited, she had already become a paladin.

Therefore, it was impossible to know how the process had flowed in between.

Of course, if he had wanted to know back then, he could have found out, but…

‘We had a somewhat awkward relationship.’

It was the same in the future, but would it be any different now? He was the murderer who killed Claire’s family.

The only reason this relationship was maintained was because Claire was dealing with him while excluding as much personal emotion as possible.

“Sigh.”

Lost poked Claire’s cheek with his finger as she lay there, bothering her for no reason.

She was just a burden.

“Li, Linea… Mr. Lost is bothering me again.”

“What are you doing to the patient?!”

Linea, who had been examining the medical device set that Geppetto had given her, hurriedly turned around and smacked Lost on the back.

“I just poked her cheek. Did you think I would swing my fist?”

“I told you before that Claire has sensitive skin, so even touching her like that is not allowed!”

“Ha, geez…”

He was being scolded from all sides.

Lost missed the gentle Linea of the past.

Of course, it was a good change. She wasn’t just watching out for others like before.

“Lost, look over there.”

“Huh?”

Lost, who had been rubbing his smacked back with his palm, raised his head to the sky at Titan’s call, who had been quietly pulling the carriage.

“A flock of wyverns.”

“Oh no… It will take some time to turn back from here.”

“Then, shall we hunt?”

Titan, as if he had been itching to do so, put down the carriage.

Lost didn’t respond, but it seemed that the battle situation was already confirmed in his mind.

Anyway, he wouldn’t listen even if I tried to stop him, so Lost shrugged and turned away at the sight of Titan.

“Claire, it’s a good opportunity, so you should catch one too.”

“Me too… huh?”

Claire, who seemed to be about to complain, couldn’t finish her sentence.

It was because Titan reached out behind Lost’s back.

“Listen well, Lost. Just like last time, you go up to the sky first and draw their attention. When you lure them to a lower position, I’ll thrust my spear and intercept them.”

“No, what kind of nonsense is that…”

Lost, unable to hide his bewilderment, couldn’t finish his sentence either.

Before he could finish, Titan grabbed Lost and threw him into the sky where the wyvern flock was.

Lost initially flew straight, then entered the middle of the wyvern flock and drew a gentle curve as he fell to the ground.

Titan frowned in puzzlement as he watched Lost flounder in the air and fall to the ground.

“Why isn’t he spreading his wings?”

Unfortunately, the wings Lost had shown in the battle with Pinocchio were disposable and could no longer be spread.