Chapter 151 — Samail's Fury
Seeing the agony written across Lorraine's face, Samail's expression shifted ever so slightly.
"It seems you don't possess anything capable of healing a fatal wound," he mused calmly, as if commenting on something trivial.
"That… was indeed my oversight."
His tone remained steady—clinical.
"According to the intel, Ed suffered severe injuries. He couldn't possibly recover in such a short time. And with the sudden attack, there's no way he could've followed you throughout the hospital."
Samail tilted his head, the conclusion falling neatly into place.
"In other words—Ed is still in the ward."
Across from him, Lorraine's eyes widened in shock.
A slow smile crept along Samail's lips.
"Your expression confirms it."
He chuckled softly.
"Bring Ed here," he ordered. "Once she sees her beloved, I'm sure Mrs. Warren will understand exactly what she must do."
Lorraine opened her mouth, wanting to deny it—
But she knew it was already far too late.
Only now did she remember the line in Gideon's safety manual:
"Unless you don't care about your life, keep your face neutral."
This was the second time she'd violated the manual.
The first was when she returned to reunite with Una and the others.
If she hadn't distributed her holy items among the group…
If she had saved those resources…
With her Sight to read evil's movements, she might have continued evading the cultists for hours.
But now—
She was cornered.
And people around her had died because of her decisions.
---
Samail spoke again, voice smooth and cold.
"I know you may still have a few high-grade holy artifacts hidden."
He raised a brow.
"So here is my offer: hand over everything willingly, and I will spare these people—and your husband."
Otherwise…"
His tone sharpened.
"You all die here."
He waved a hand leisurely.
"You have until my men return. Think carefully."
Moments later, a black-robed cultist arrived, pushing a hospital bed down the corridor.
"Lord Samail—the target has been brought."
Samail turned.
On the bed lay a man attached to a respirator, IV fluids dripping beside him.
"Ed!"
Lorraine's voice broke as she saw her husband.
Samail smiled wider.
"Now then, it's time to make your decision."
He lifted his sleeve and drew a single long nail down his arm.
A split second later—
black, corrosive blood gushed out, splattering onto the floor.
Zzzzzzz—
Smoke billowed upward.
The tiles hissed and dissolved into a blackened pit.
Holding his dripping arm aloft, Samail strode toward Ed's bed.
"No—please! I'll go with you!"
Lorraine dropped the remaining holy artifacts at her feet, hands trembling.
Thinking of her husband and daughter, tears spilled down her cheeks.
Maybe…I'll never see them again.
She shut her eyes in despair.
"You," Samail pointed at the cultist who had wheeled Ed in,
"assist Mrs. Warren. Make sure she hasn't 'forgotten' anything she shouldn't leave behind."
He wiped his arm once; the wound sealed instantly.
The black-robed man nodded and approached Lorraine.
Lorraine raised her arms obediently—like a lamb resigned to slaughter.
The cultist searched her methodically… then pulled out a small bell.
Jingle… jingle…
He carried it back to Samail.
"What is this?" Samail frowned.
Lorraine was just as confused—
She'd never seen that item before.
The cultist explained:
"A Demon-Binding Bell. It can create an extremely potent isolation barrier. According to legend, it's modeled after an artifact used by the Lord Sinai during the giving of the Ten Commandments."
"Oh?"
Samail let out a low chuckle.
"So you do know a few things. Seems Hans's men aren't completely useless."
Samail raised a brow.
"But this is just a fragment. Only the True Lord can command all creation."
"Not necessarily," the black-robed man replied, shaking his head.
"…What did you just say?"
Samail's eyes narrowed.
He studied the man carefully. A moment later, his voice turned cold.
"You're not one of Hans's people. They would never dare speak like that."
But the black-robed man completely ignored the question and instead answered the previous one:
"This isn't a 'fragment.' With the third-rate barrier you placed outside the hospital, of course you can't understand."
He crouched, gesturing toward a specific tile on the floor, then gently set the bell upon it.
Jingle—
A crisp, clear chime rippled outward.
Lorraine immediately felt her mind settle—her fear dimming, replaced with a strange clarity.
And she instantly realized something:
This "black-robed man" was nothing like the others.
Unless…
"Mrs. Warren," the man began,
"had you returned to the original ward after losing control of the surveillance system, the sacred icon there would have bought you plenty of time."
He tapped the bell lightly.
"And you could've used a simple misdirection—the enemy never would have guessed that Ed was still on the same floor."
Then he lifted his hood.
A familiar, youthful face appeared.
"That way," he finished, "you wouldn't be in such danger now."
Seeing the face beneath the hood, Lorraine's eyes lit up—relief flooding through her chest.
"Father Gideon!"
Gideon nodded warmly.
"I didn't let Judy enter the building."
Lorraine exhaled in profound relief, gratitude filling her gaze.
---
"So you're the owner of that little holy-artifact shop?"
Samail's voice cut through the moment.
"Sorry," Gideon said as he turned, deadpan, "even if you're trying to be friendly, there are no discounts."
"…Arrogant fool."
Samail narrowed his eyes.
"I assume you have some high-grade holy artifact—that's why you dare come alone."
"High-grade?" Gideon shrugged. "Who knows."
Samail snorted.
"People of the Church truly are disgusting."
He lifted a hand.
"I'll give you a choice—"
He was still on the word choice,
but by the time he said –ce,
his silhouette had vanished.
BOOM!
A violent impact shook the hallway.
Samail reappeared a short distance from Gideon—yet his expression was now twisted in confusion.
Gideon smiled faintly.
"Cultists really are predictable."
But Samail wasn't listening anymore.
He was too busy repeatedly slamming into something unseen—
the entire hospital echoing with thunderous crashes.
"What… what is this barrier!? Why can't I break it!?"
For the first time, Samail felt something like fear tightening around his chest.
As one blessed by the True Lord—
one of the few who had tasted even a drop of infernal origin—
he was leagues above the fodder who relied on mere potions.
And yet—
Nothing he did could pierce this invisible wall.
It made no sense.
Even high-grade holy artifacts burned out quickly against his corruption.
Only true relics—items graded as Sacred Artifacts—could withstand him.
"Just now, that bastard said… this bell came from Sinai?"
Samail immediately dismissed the thought.
Mount Sinai was among the most sacred sites.
Anything truly originating from there would be locked away within Vatican vaults,
untouchable even to the Pope without procedure.
There was no way such an object would end up in the hands of an unknown priest.
---
"Your trick is impressive," Samail said, forcing composure back into his voice.
"But you seem to have forgotten something."
He turned toward the hospital bed.
"I still have your hostage."
But when he looked down—
Gideon was watching him with an expression that could only be described as… pity.
A chill ran down Samail's spine.
He touched the patient's arm—
and froze.
The body was cold.
Very cold.
The man on the bed…
had been dead for some time.
Samail snatched out the photo he'd been given.
At a glance, the resemblance was convincing—
but on closer inspection…
Two different people.
"You miserable little—!"
Samail's teeth ground together.
He hurled the entire bed toward Gideon—
only for it to slam uselessly into the invisible barrier.
"HOW did you block my senses!?"
He glared at the young priest, hatred blazing.
"At this distance, there's NO WAY I wouldn't detect death!"
But Gideon didn't answer.
Instead, he simply stared back at Samail…
With that look.
A look Samail knew far too well.
Across his fifteen tumultuous romances—
every lover he'd ever had, in the final moments before leaving him,
had looked at him exactly like that.
At first, he couldn't understand.
Not until his fifteenth girlfriend
—and her secret lover—
tearfully begged him for mercy
right before he carved them into pieces.
They told him the truth.
It was the look
you give someone who is impossibly, irredeemably…
Stupid.
--