The Plague Doctor was quite a fine ally. They shared the same interests, could advance in the same direction. It could be said that for Lawrence to achieve what he had today, the Plague Doctor’s merit was indispensable: the flesh of the Holy Grail, the legions of Secret Blood... he had given Lawrence far too much help.

Relying solely on those bizarre pieces of knowledge in the Plague Doctor’s mind, and his ability to turn conjecture into reality, his power was far greater than that of an army.

Lawrence hesitated slightly.

He did not wish to let the Plague Doctor go. The Plague Doctor had yet to stand on the opposite side from him, but no matter what, there was always at least a sliver of possibility. For the sake of his own desire, Lawrence was willing to destroy every last trace of anything that might influence him in the slightest, even the Plague Doctor who had once aided him.

To eliminate that near-nonexistent possibility, Lawrence was considering whether he should have the Plague Doctor sleep here forever.

"The Iron Armor ship is ready. The steam engine roars and runs, the boiler scalding hot, all equipment complete. Plus the army you’ve given me, and the current state of the world... everything is too perfect. I cannot think of a better time to do all this."

The Plague Doctor leaned against the side, his voice brimming with infatuation.

"Lawrence, in truth, many times I failed to understand your madness. Though you speak of saving the world, it is hard for me to empathize with you, to experience all that. Back then I thought it was probably because, at our core, we are different kinds of people."

The Plague Doctor watched Lawrence. Both of them wore masks, hiding their true hearts.

"You are a lunatic, a war maniac, a savior? While I am a Scholar. Our identities differ, the things we seek are not the same, which is only natural... but now I more or less understand."

The sound rumbled, emerging from beneath the beaked mask.

As a doctor, a Scholar, the Plague Doctor rarely grasped the feelings of those ambitious men when they seized power—obviously something so meaningless, why did these people still go mad for it? And now the Plague Doctor more or less understood.

This had little to do with whether it was power or Truth. This was a wish, an ideal, something one spent one’s entire life pursuing, and the ecstasy when it was about to be realized.

Such was his mood now. As the fleet formed and the plan grew more complete, his long-quiescent heart began to throb violently once more.

"It feels truly marvelous, as if I have come alive all over again."

The Plague Doctor sighed in admiration.

Lawrence remained silent at his side. He stared at the Plague Doctor’s body, and saw the robes rise and bulge again and again, as though some serpentine creatures were writhing beneath his clothes, as if in the next second they would burst out and tear the Plague Doctor to pieces.

Lawrence had witnessed such a phenomenon before in cases of human Demonization: the flesh beginning to deform, striving to break free of the shackles of the body. Many times Lawrence thought the Plague Doctor would undergo aberrant transformation on the spot and become a Demon, yet in the end it always returned to calm, as if the phenomenon were merely a manifestation of his own emotions. Generally, the appearance of this state meant the Plague Doctor’s emotions were in violent flux.

Fortunately, this condition did not last long. The Plague Doctor’s body gradually calmed. Once he recovered from his immersion, he motioned for Lawrence to follow him, and walked into the massive structure behind him. It was clearly daytime, yet within the corridor there was no light to be found. Formless darkness shrouded everything, making it impossible to see what lay hidden within.

"My departure will inevitably cause problems in the production of Secret Blood, so to avoid this, I have left behind all the knowledge pertaining to Secret Blood.

To paraphrase and extract these things from Revelation was a massive undertaking. At one point I thought I would be killed by the madness of that knowledge."

The Plague Doctor spoke as he walked. Reading Revelation meant inevitably coming to know the cursed knowledge within; the erosion it brought had nearly driven the Plague Doctor out of control, and for this he lost quite a few researchers.

When he tried to recall what those fellows looked like, the Plague Doctor found he could not quite remember for a moment, and simply chose not to think about it.

Though he was a Scholar, the number of people the Plague Doctor had killed was hardly less than Lawrence’s. And like Lawrence, words such as "psychological burden" were practically a mockery to him. In his eyes, these people had all sacrificed themselves for great knowledge.

Of course, not voluntarily.

Those fellows all died beneath the hands of the Plague Doctor when he lost control. At the time, he even pined over it for quite a while; finding a group of people who barely understood Demons to that extent was no easy matter.

"Because of technical limitations, the lifespan of this facility is not long. With diligent maintenance, it can probably last only a few years before it loses control... but that is unimportant. After all, according to your prophecy, if we cannot survive that apocalypse, there will be no such thing as ’a few years later’ for us. So its design is, all in all, rather in line with present circumstances."

As the Plague Doctor spoke, a nauseating reek of blood drifted from the depths of the darkness. It was so thick it seemed as if countless corpses were piled up within the dark. Detestable death had taken on tangible form, walking hand in hand with corrosion.

"We are not some Demon Hunting Order; all sorts of powerful techniques cannot be replicated. But at least for a few years, this place will produce Secret Blood of sufficient stability, and that will render your army inexhaustible."

Emerging from the darkness, a rush of warm air washed over them.

This was an inverted underground structure beneath Hearn Cathedral. It had a secret passage leading directly to the harbor. In the age when the Evangelical Church was in its prime, those Believers used this place to carry out smuggling, sending a constant stream of wealth from Gaulunaro to the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom.