The dimly lit room was silent, except for the sound of heavy breathing, the small sound of the tip of the pen rubbing against the paper.

Shermans didn't notice it, fine beads of sweat were already covering his forehead, and as he thought, he seemed to get closer to the truth, and he recorded everything that was going through his mind in this heavy notebook.

"Where did this plague called the demon come from, when did it start, why we have killed so much, and why we have not found a single 'pure' demon so far. ”

Fear and ecstasy coexisted in his heart, and Shermans felt as if he was getting younger, and as he thought about his thoughts, he continued to rise rapidly, and even said that he felt that all this he had just done had advanced the human understanding of demons by a few points.

Then he remembered something, put down his pen, and flipped the note to the front.

The notes contained a lot of things, and while most of them were Shermans' theological studies, as a member of the Cardinal, he could not tell the Cult of the Demon Hunters, but he could still get some general insider information.

He looked at his handwriting, and pieced together an almost terrible truth from the broken information.

"In this world, is it true that only our Demon Hunting Order has the power to fight against demons?"

The old body shuddered uncontrollably, and Shermans took a sip of the water glass, his eyes full of horror, and then looked around, as if something strange was hiding in the corner, staring at him intently.

But in fact, he was the only one here, alone.

He continued to write, but as he wrote, he could feel a heat rise up in his body.

It was a frenzy of fear, and it was clear that nothing had happened, but the blood began to accelerate, the pupils of the eyes dilated slightly, and the heart beat violently, putting a burden on the old body.

"No, that's not right...... With the terrible erosion of demons, this would be a plague even more terrible than the Black Death, but in these thousands of years of war, we can survive this plague, and even build such a magnificent kingdom.

This is not right, if according to the theoretical power of the spread of demons, even when the evangelical church is at its strongest, it will not be able to curb the rampant spread of demons, they will only increase and increase, and if you kill one, there will be two, and if you fall a witcher, you will give birth to an even more terrible one!"

His body became heavy, as if a black tide had overflowed his body, and the strange water was extremely viscous, like countless hands implicating him.

Specks of blood trickled down the tip of his nose and stained the paper red, unaware of this, and he continued to write, black ink mixed with red blood, leaving red and black trails that spread along the texture of the paper like countless waving dry branches.

"Something is wrong in this world, even if the number of the Demon Hunting Order expands tenfold and hundredfold, under this raging plague, it will not be able to curb the pollution of demons.

In this way, except for a few magnificent cities, most of this world should be devoured by demons, not the way it is now. ”

His body was getting heavier and heavier, but Shermans's pen was getting faster and faster, and he could feel as if something rancid, sticky had seized him, and they were wrapped around him, trying to press him into the darkness.

Shermans even felt that he could see the hateful faces if he looked away, but he didn't, his eyes fixed on the paper in front of him, and he continued to write in the ink stained with his own blood.

"But we survived, and the influence of demons on this world became smaller and smaller, and even disappeared, and the steam engine that changed the world appeared, and one kingdom after another was established...... We have gained a foothold in this plague, but we have not done it ourselves......"

The tip of the pen paused for a long time, leaving behind a pitch-black hole that Shermans stared at as if there was something behind it.

After a moment, he smiled a little frightenedly.

"Isn't this question simple? just push it back, we survived, in addition to the Demon Hunting Order, in this vast world, there must be some kind of power, an unknown force, they are the main force to contain the demons. ”

This is the truth that can destroy the knowledge of the evangelical church, but it was written so easily by Shermans today, in fact, he couldn't believe it, if he hadn't seen too many things, his faith might have collapsed.

But that was the only plausible explanation, Shermans didn't believe that the demons would kill each other, so the humans survived, they were the embodiment of madness.

He was breathing heavily, wanting to pour all the air from the house into his lungs, and Shermans needed to calm down before he could continue writing.

With a smile on his dry face like rotten wood, and more of an ecstasy at realizing the truth, he discovers a loophole in history that may help to find out the nature of the demon.

But the ecstasy did not last long, and Shermans's eyes cooled, and he put his hand into his bosom and stroked the delicate flintlock pistol, which gave him a lot of security.

Shehlmans was not a man of all kind, and apart from his devotion and fanaticism for his faith, he was actually a mediocre fellow, and even a little "unmotivated".

He didn't crave power, and he didn't have a sense of wealth, and if it weren't for knowing the ominousness of Seny Lothair, he wouldn't have gotten together with Migr, and if Seny Lothair didn't have that strange power, Shermans wouldn't mind him becoming pope at all.

He didn't know who the new pope who had suddenly appeared, but Shermans knew very well that there was a forbidden power hidden beneath the iron mask, and that something ominous and strange had put on the holy crown of the pope, which Shermans would never allow.

"What about those people? But what about those who are more intelligent than me?"

Shermans asked himself rhetorically in his notes.

Everyone who can leave a name in history is an absolutely outstanding genius in that era, and there are many such people in the history of the Evangelical Church, and it is because of their efforts that the Evangelical Church gradually ruled the entire Western world and set off a holy crusade.

"They're far smarter and more powerful than I am, so how could Shermans not be able to detect these historical holes?"

Yes, that's the problem, the history of the evangelical church is so long, there have been many peerless people, it stands to reason that Shermans just discovered these problems, they should have discovered them, but the books of the evangelical church do not record this, as if they were deliberately concealed.

Or did they find out, but for some reason didn't want to tell future generations, or ...... There is no opportunity to tell posterity. ”

Shermans stopped writing, and he was a little afraid to write any further, as if if he continued to write, and some terrible prediction would come true.

He can feel, always feel, an invisible boundary, a mental boundary, a cognitive boundary, an unknown boundary, which has always existed, existed above everyone's mind, imprisoning the human will.

Shermans was sure that he didn't think of it because of some kind of inspiration, but that some restraint disappeared at this moment, so that he could peek into the forbidden knowledge and the truth that had been hidden.

Why is it at this time, why can I think of these at this time, is that unknown force not afraid to pass on these by myself?

Sweat dripped onto the paper, smudging the undried handwriting.

Shermans suddenly understood, he slowly raised his head to look at the darkness of the room in front of him, Shermans could not see it, but he could be sure that it was there, with an expression that he did not yet know, quietly watching him.

"I'm going to die, am I?"

Shermans asked at the dark nothingness.

This is the only answer, he is going to die, and the dead cannot tell these stories, which is why these obvious loopholes have not been detected to this day, and those who know are dead.

A curtain of iron hangs over this world, and anyone who is beyond its knowledge will usher in the same end.

Shermans didn't know who they were, and didn't seem to have a chance to know, but what was certain was that they had something to do with demons, with the truth of the world, and he was so close to it all, and he knew he couldn't get into it anymore.

Slowly closing his notes, Shermans calmly took out the flintlock pistol that had been abandoned by the times, and although it had been baptized by the years, it was still usable, and it was always in a firing state.

It was the only weapon Shermans had, and he could die, but like a saint.

Shermans raised his flintlock pistol tremblingly, pointing at the hazy darkness, the cold feeling was still there, he knew that the thing was still looking at him, the ghost-like thing, maybe the next second it would suddenly attack and kill itself in an unknown way.

The Void Ghost did not attack for a long time, and after a long stalemate, a faint laugh suddenly sounded, and the next moment the strange feeling disappeared, and the thing left.

Shermans still held his gun up, a little incredulous, but before he could rejoice, a deeper despair engulfed it.

Behind that darkness there was light, pure white and blazing.

No, I'm destined to die, but it's not the weird thing that does it.

The witcher stepped out of the darkness, sword in hand, and it was at this moment that a terrible scream rang out from the window, and countless witchers invaded the manor and went on a killing spree.