Chapter 58: My Followers

Mulan was not among the upper echelons of the Black Castle, nor was he inclined to meddle in the aftermath. After exchanging a few words with Walton, he returned to his own quarters. Though the mud demon had wrought considerable havoc, the second floor remained largely intact.

Back home, Mulan changed his clothes, lit a candle in his room, and began leafing through a tome of magic. The surrounding chaos only spurred his thirst for knowledge. He switched through several books in succession before finally finding what he sought.

In a volume titled "The Origins of Arcana," he discovered secrets and conjectures concerning a group known as the Valata wizards. In the ancient past, those who wielded supernatural power were commonly called wizards; people believed they possessed wondrous abilities, yet such power was deemed evil, likely bartered from monsters, and so it was classified as magic.

The book described the Valata wizards as among the oldest surviving lineages who still called themselves wizards. Some within their ranks mastered terrifying spells, the most iconic of which was the summoning of demons.

Mulan furrowed his brow and read on, the text seeming to crawl like twisted worms across the page, even conjuring faint images—a wizard robed and hatted in black, his silhouette emerging from the words.

Unperturbed, Mulan silently absorbed the passage ahead.

"But so-called demon summoning is merely a matter of terminology. According to the Valata wizards, demons are pure entities, the embodiment of unadulterated obsession, driven by intense malice and ravenous desire, forming a dreadful supernatural force that traverses chaos and the world beyond, descending upon reality to fight for the wizard, annihilating all opponents within a certain range, save for the wizard himself..."

He opened another book, comparing the two as he studied them, gradually deducing a chilling truth.

The formation of the wizard's world, the mighty mystical forces, their various purposes...

Demons did not exist in this world at first. They were creations of the Valata wizards. The so-called summoning was, in fact, an act of creation: by harnessing their own formidable power and exploiting the peculiarities of their world, they conjured demons from pure obsession and malice, granting them a corporeal form to fight on their behalf or fulfill other purposes.

Once a demon took shape, its actions often caused immense destruction, and it was difficult to eradicate entirely. Should it escape, disaster would invariably follow.

Mulan closed his eyes, rubbing them until tears moistened his dry corneas. He now understood the nature of the demon he had faced today. Though the books were not always accurate, his encounter with the mud demon, aided by his unique resonance, allowed him to sense its essence—a newborn creature of pure obsession, malice, greed, and desire, not yet fully formed in intellect.

This demon was a human creation. Or perhaps, the humans who created it were themselves demons. The book claimed that many demonic events recorded throughout history could be traced to this origin, and that some demons might have escaped and survived to the present day, perfecting themselves over long years, learning and evolving into unpredictable beings.

In other words, the old wizard had not summoned a demon—he had created one.

"In a way, it's rather impressive," Mulan muttered with a hint of sarcasm. Rising from his seat, he lay down on his bed. The Black Castle had disappointed him; perhaps the church, with its fervent religiosity, was the brighter place after all.

Yet at least one thing aligned perfectly with Mulan's expectations: the world of the occult was indeed resplendent and varied, fraught with danger but wondrous and mysterious, teeming with possibilities. Even demons could be fashioned—so long as one was exceptional enough, one might evolve ever stronger.

Mulan knew he was but an unknown nobody for now. But he had full confidence in himself, and a powerful hope for his future.

"May I not have nightmares tonight, and sleep well," he thought. Picking up his cane, he flicked it toward the candle. With a whoosh, the wind from the cane snuffed the flame. Mulan kicked off his shoes, pulled the covers over himself, and slept fully dressed.

In his dreams, Mulan glimpsed the demon’s true form—or perhaps not. It was a vast shadow with wings unfurled, eyes gleaming like bloody crescents. Yet it stood not in darkness, but against the light, arms outstretched, nails sharp as daggers.

Countless feathers of black and white whirled around the demon, every flash of light and shadow as indistinct and dazzling as the flicker of a camera’s bulb.

...

The next morning, Mulan rose late—a rarity since his arrival in Digo. Not out of laziness, but because he could not rouse himself.

After washing and dressing, he walked the corridors of the Black Castle, observing the many cleaners hard at work.

The castle had lost numerous staff overnight, though nearly all were service workers. Their vacancies would soon be filled by others; even some trainees had perished, but replacements would arrive just as swiftly.

He watched as people, full of reverence and excitement, cleaned up the mess. They were pleased to have secured their jobs, oblivious to the fate of their predecessors. Life was hard enough; perhaps the pay alone was worth everything.

Clad in a greatcoat and formal hat, Mulan strode along the castle’s paths. Familiar faces greeted him, but he only nodded in return, no longer smiling as he once did.

Passing the library, he saw the old wizard standing outside, who immediately called him over.

"Mulan, just the person I needed. You borrowed quite a few magic books; if convenient, could you return some gradually? We need to check if we can replenish the library’s losses."

Mulan was deeply concerned about this as well.

"Many books have no backup copies?"

The old wizard shook his head.

"Though the damage is considerable, it’s not as dire as it appears. Many books are out on loan—some collections are practically small libraries themselves. Once they’re returned and copied, we’ll make up much of the deficit. Some books can be rewritten, and the secretarial office is mostly intact. Overall, the loss is significant, but not insurmountable."

As if remembering something, the old wizard added,

"Ah, yes. Given the lack of books, replenishing and reorganizing will take time, so the previous methods of borrowing and answering questions won’t do. The Black Castle has decided to implement a teaching system. After all, the intelligence stored here cannot be stolen. Detailed guidelines will be announced soon."

The old wizard tapped his head.

Mulan nodded in understanding. It seemed the Black Castle would soon adopt formal lectures—likely a more efficient approach. Still, he wondered if they had enough instructors, as staffing was already stretched thin across Dielga.

Mulan reached the York District police station just before noon. The officers seemed to have completed some tasks already; the station was crowded with detainees, most of them workers, anxious or furious, cursing loudly. Even without asking, Mulan knew who they were.

Many officers greeted him, but the noisy environment prompted only a nod in reply as he hurried upstairs.

On the third floor, he found Hendel waiting for him, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“How’s everything?” Hendel greeted him with a smile.

“I just arrived myself. All is well—I’ve settled you in a good place. When you’re free, I’ll show you... Sir, are you alright?”

Mulan hung his coat and hat, sat at his desk, and relaxed.

“I’m fine. But last night, the Black Castle was attacked by a mysterious creature. Hendel, I know you have your own ambitions. I’ll give you two choices: one, you stay by my side from now on and never go to the Black Castle again.”

“And the other?” Hendel asked, concerned. Mulan responded with a question of his own.

“How do you feel after eating that book’s front page yesterday?”

Hendel paused, then looked himself over.

“I feel great—no discomfort whatsoever. Though I had some nightmares last night, it didn’t affect my rest.”

Mulan smiled slightly.

“There’s another option—the Black Castle will soon recruit new trainees. I might be able to recommend you. I know you yearn for that world—that dangerous, beautiful world.”

Excitement lit up Hendel’s face. He stood straight, clenched his fist, and struck his chest.

“Sir Jonest, I wish to enter that world, but I will always obey your orders!”

A diplomatic answer, yet Mulan sensed genuine sincerity.

Since the Black Castle had disappointed him, and he harbored ambitions of his own—whether to realize his dreams or to nobly cleanse the filth—

Mulan felt he needed loyal companions, whether in the Empire’s future politics or the secret world beyond the surface.