Chapter 255
âI didnât prepare a gift for you. Iâm truly sorry! I know the circumstances werenât right before, but that doesnât excuse my mistake. I should have prepared it before asking you to be my teacher,â she apologized, bowing her head deeply in sincerity.
Her hands clutched the edges of her tunic, twisting the fabric nervously, as if trying to wring out her shame.
âGift? For me? Why?â Oliver thought, puzzled at her sudden remorse. Then, as if a lantern lit in his mind, realization struck.
He recalled how deeply ingrained the custom of gift-giving was in demon culture. Whenever demons sought to become a teacherâs student, they would offer lavish or important gifts. These gifts werenât just tokens of gratitude but served as a formal sign of acceptance into a bond akin to an apprenticeship.
It wasnât merely traditionâit was an unspoken rule. The gifts symbolized devotion, sincerity, and a willingness to obey the masterâs guidance.
The memories resurfaced vividly now: a hulking demon once kneeling before his teacher, offering up a ceremonial blade inlaid with rubies that gleamed like fresh blood. The demonâs booming voice had been steady, but Oliver remembered the tension in his clenched fists, as if the act of surrendering such a precious relic was a trial in itself.
In human culture, however, this practice was far less prevalent. While not mandatory, exorcists would still often present their mentors with gifts as an unspoken gesture of respect and gratitude. This subtle mirroring of demon culture made Oliver wonder if these practices shared a deeper origin.
âWell, I donât need anything,â Oliver said, waving dismissively, his voice tinged with mild amusement. The corners of his lips quirked into a faint smile, one that barely reached his eyes.
âThis canât beâŠ! Teacher, I swear, once Iâve become capable enough, Iâll give you something worth remembering!â Her declaration came with an almost fiery determination.
Her eyes burned with a fierce resolve that belied her small frame, as if she were swearing an oath that bound her soul.
âSureâŠâ Oliver muttered, barely hiding his indifference. He didnât feel like arguing over something he deemed trivial. He let out a sigh, silently berating himself.
The weight of his own apathy pressed against him, heavy and uncomfortable. âGuess a lazy person like me isnât suited to teachâŠâ He gazed at her determined face and couldnât help but feel conflicted. Her boundless enthusiasm contrasted sharply with his laid-back nature.
The weight of his own apathy pressed against him, heavy and uncomfortable. âGuess a lazy person like me isnât suited to teachâŠâ He gazed at her determined face and couldnât help but feel conflicted. Her boundless enthusiasm contrasted sharply with his laid-back nature.
But responsibility was a weight he couldnât shrug off. He had brought her into this situation, and now it was his duty to see it through. At least for now. Perhaps later, when she was more skilled, he could guide her to a better teacher and fade back into his preferred solitude.
For now, though, the tie between them was something he couldnât sever, no matter how much he yearned for peace. Her bright, expectant gaze was like an anchor holding him in place.
Until that day came, he resolved to fulfill his role as her mentor.
âWell, if thatâs the case, then followââ Oliver abruptly stopped mid-sentence, his body tensing.
âHuh?â
His heart raced as he suddenly sensed a cluster of oppressive presences encircling the camp. The air grew dense, and a chill ran down his spine.
It was too sudden, too calculated. These presences hadnât approached gradually; they had appeared all at once, as if teleporting directly to the area. Their timing was uncanny, leaving no room for doubtâit was an ambush.
The air itself seemed to turn heavy, oppressive, and cold, as if an invisible hand had gripped the camp in a suffocating vise.
The realization hit him like a hammer. These entities had been lying in wait, likely concealed by an artifact or some advanced magic that had shielded them from detection until the perfect moment.
Oliverâs mind raced, replaying the events leading to this moment. He now understood why the chief and the stick man had acted so strangely. Their behavior, coupled with their eagerness to cooperate, was a deliberate ploy. He had walked right into a trap.
He clenched his fists. His knuckles whitened as his nails dug into his palms. âSo those two were heretics after all, posing as human rebels in demon territory. It all adds up nowâŠâ
But the bigger question lingeredâwho orchestrated this?
It was likely connected to his actions in the city where he had pulled off that dangerous stunt. If his hunch was correct, this was the work of inquisitors.
They had sealed the area completely, leaving no visible escape routes. Breaking through the encirclement would be near impossible with so many demons closing in on all sides.
âI should have seen this coming. I knew something felt off, but I never suspected those two humansâŠâ
Oliverâs brow furrowed. A deep, throbbing ache began to build in his temple as his mind spiraled through possibilities. âIf theyâre heretics, why didnât I sense dark espera from them? All heretics carry a sinister aura, yet neither of them showed any signs. The stick man was especially clean⊠too clean.â
He contemplated a grim possibilityâhad the exorcists themselves begun collaborating with demons? Though rare, such instances werenât unheard of. In desperate situations, humans and demons with overlapping goals had been known to collude, even if temporarily.
But these alliances almost always ended in catastrophe.
âTeacher, whatâs wrong?â the girlâs concerned voice broke his train of thought. She stood by his side, her gaze darting around the camp. Though she couldnât sense the presences surrounding them, her instincts told her something was amiss.
âIt seems weâve been discovered by the demons,â Oliver said evenly, his calm tone betraying the gravity of the situation.
âWhat!?â Her eyes widened in disbelief. She scanned their surroundings, but no demons were in sight. Despite this, she trusted her teacherâs words implicitly.
âWhat do we do now, teacher?â she asked, her voice steady despite the rising tension.
âHmmâŠâ Oliverâs sharp gaze flicked across the camp. Despite the life-threatening danger, his mind remained unnervingly calmâa trait he attributed to his Mystic Purge Clan bloodline. It allowed him to keep a clear head, even in the face of overwhelming peril.
Still, a faint electric charge seemed to buzz beneath his skin, an unconscious preparation for the fight he knew was coming.
âI have an idea, but Iâll need your help,â Oliver said, his focus shifting to the girl.
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