Chapter 153 — Blood Sacrifice and Devouring
Seeing the young man lose composure, Samail felt he had finally grasped the boy's weakness.
Gideon stayed silent for a long moment before finally stepping toward the bell.
Samail smiled faintly.
Just as Gideon reached out, his fingers froze mid-air.
"Who is the 'Master' you serve?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Heh… why, none other than the exalted Demon God, Lord Valak,"
Samail replied with a sinister grin.
"If you ever feel like changing allegiances, you're welcome to join us."
The moment the words left his mouth, Gideon straightened. The darkness on his expression vanished without a trace.
"I see. In that case, I have no further concerns," he said calmly.
Samail's brows pinched together.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Saint Lucia," Gideon said evenly. "That's what this is about, isn't it?"
"…How do you know that?"
"Your reaction just now confirmed it."
Samail's frown deepened—part confusion from losing his leverage, part furious resentment at those last words.
Not long ago, he had used the exact same line to mock that woman.
Of course, Gideon didn't deduce anything from Samail's final remark; that was merely to provoke the cultist.
In the Conjuring universe, Valak indeed pursued the eyes of Saint Lucy—once an angel, Valak sought to restore its power through the relic.
Lorraine, as well as the novice nun from The Nun (Irene), were canonically descendants of Lucia.
So the moment Gideon heard Valak's name, everything clicked.
"The Church preaches honor and compassion," Gideon said coldly. "Your actions violate every oath a sacred servant should uphold."
This time, Samail was the one gritting his teeth.
The black-robed followers exchanged confused glances.
Why did their master suddenly seem like the injured party?
They were the evil ones here, weren't they?
Gideon stared at him with an expression that clearly said:
Are you kidding me right now?
"A cultist daring to talk about keeping oaths? You slaughter others without hesitation—don't tell me you weren't prepared to be killed yourselves."
Samail fell silent. There was no point continuing the conversation.
Suddenly, he vanished.
Agonized screams echoed from within the demon-binding circle.
When he reappeared, Samail was drenched in fresh blood—
several still-beating hearts clutched in his hands.
All the black-robed followers had already collapsed on the ground.
"The most exalted Demon God, your servant begs for mercy…"
Samail arranged the still-beating hearts into the shape of a pentagram, chanting guttural demonic phrases under his breath.
As he spoke, the blood pooled within the demon-binding circle rose and streamed toward him, as though pulled by an invisible force.
A vortex of crimson soon took shape.
Samail's aura grew thicker, fouler—so corrosive that the stone floor beneath him began to rot and decay.
"Blood Sacrifice Devouring."
Lorraine had stepped to Gideon's side, her tone tinged with alarm.
Seeing his confusion, she explained:
"This ritual sacrifices one's soul and flesh to a demon in exchange for power. It transforms the practitioner into a source of pure evil."
Her brows knit tightly.
"Such a ritual corrupts the land itself… everything within the radius becomes a dead zone. No life can ever thrive there again."
"You're surprisingly knowledgeable," Samail growled.
"The sacrifice covers a radius of one kilometer. None of you can escape."
Gideon stroked his chin.
He could feel the gathering power—massive, but not yet fully formed.
So he opened his pack and took out a vial of holy water.
Samail's eyes narrowed.
Empowered by the ritual, his senses were greatly heightened; he immediately recognized it as twenty-year consecrated holy water.
"So he did keep a trump card hidden. But a single vial won't even begin—"
Before he could finish the thought, Gideon pulled out another twenty-year vial.
Then another.
Then—
Crosses.
Holy amulets.
More holy water.
One sacred item after another, all of twenty-year quality, laid out carefully on the ground in a very specific formation.
Gideon raised his exorcism scripture and began chanting again.
Pure, radiant holy power rushed in from all directions.
The sacred items on the ground glowed with blinding white light.
Within moments, an overwhelmingly powerful force filled the entire space.
A drop of sweat slid down Samail's forehead.
He could feel the power—so pure it terrified him.
This was far beyond anything he had summoned.
It was close—far too close—to primordial power.
This was what it looked like when energy from the "Unknowable Realm" seeped into the mortal world.
A purification ritual of this caliber could only be performed by the highest combat exorcists of the Vatican.
And yet a young man had invoked it alone.
How… how was that possible?
Samail's expression froze.
A horrifying possibility flashed across his mind.
"The Church's 'Holy Word' prophesied the birth of a Holy Child… could it be him—?"
But he never got the answer.
The moment the purification rite activated, a torrent of pure holy light crashed over him.
The demonic aura clinging to his body evaporated instantly, and his skin blistered and burned.
For a brief moment, Samail's body was so thoroughly cleansed that he was purer than a normal priest.
But it lasted only a heartbeat.
His flesh belonged to the demon long ago.
Once that connection was severed, his form could no longer hold together.
In his final instant, he glared at Gideon with venomous hatred.
"I curse you!"
Gideon sighed.
"If curses worked, demons would've conquered mankind ages ago."
Samail turned to ash.
Gideon didn't stop. He purified the area again and again before finally gathering the sacred items.
Surveying the blood-soaked ruin, he frowned.
Aside from Lorraine, only four survivors remained—and all lay unconscious from Samail's ritual.
These cultists had slaughtered hundreds of innocents.
Truly depraved.
"It's my fault… I brought this disaster to them," Lorraine whispered, eyes reddening.
Gideon shook his head.
"In a world like this, simply being weak is a crime."
Lorraine seemed unsure whether she understood, but the words brought her some comfort.
Gideon was about to complete the cleanup when he felt someone approaching from behind.
A moment later—
"Are… are you Father Gideon?"
A woman's voice called out.
Gideon and Lorraine turned.
A young nun stood there, pale and beautiful, dressed in the vestments of the Church.
"You are…?"
Gideon subtly tightened his grip on the cross in his hand.
"Ca… Caroline. Caroline Medici," she said softly, tugging her robe closer as though the scene around her frightened her.
"Archbishop Borha sent me to find you."
She held out a silver medallion identical to Gideon's.
"Something happened at the assembly?" he asked, taking it.
Caroline nodded quickly, then nervously added:
"What… what happened here?"
"The cult slaughtered the civilians in this hospital," Gideon said calmly.
He did not mention Lorraine's personal involvement.
Caroline gasped, covering her mouth—then remembered she hadn't finished explaining.
"A powerful group attacked the assembly. The Exorcist Academy elites are fighting them now."
Gideon's eyes narrowed.
"Even someone of Jolan's caliber couldn't handle it?"
"Shh! You can't call the Archbishop by name—he's very petty!" Caroline whispered frantically.
"He was lured away by a woman. Her name was… Xila, I think!"
Gideon's expression froze.
Xila.
The Angel-Slayer.
That name carried an ominous weight.
Caroline, having said all this, suddenly realized she barely knew this priest. Archbishop Borha's decision now seemed alarmingly abrupt.
She poked Gideon's arm nervously.
"Um… can you not tell on me?"