Heavenly Demon Holmes: London’s Subjugation

Acting on impulse and making enemies is akin to a burnt sacrifice.

–Arthur Schopenhauer

As expected, Father Brown was feigning ignorance.

However, I did not believe all this happened by mere coincidence.

The Zion Clan is well-known for sending spies throughout Europe to monitor and track practitioners of Demonic arts.

They must have known that Sir Drake had learned Demonic arts abroad and returned home.

Even if they just tailed him overseas, they could have found out that Sir Drake intended to infiltrate the Forbidden Palace for revenge.

With a royal ball happening at the palace, it was the perfect opportunity to replace the moderate Archbishop McGettigan with Father Brown.

But without concrete evidence, bringing this up would only provide an excuse for them to find fault, so it seemed better to approach it differently. “This demon came for my life. And I was waiting for a chance to capture him with the cooperation of the British Intelligence Butler Agency and the Queen’s Guard. The fact that he infiltrated the ball was known beforehand can be confirmed with the head of the British Intelligence Butler Agency.”

The half-truth mixed with lies drew gasps from those around.

“Is that man the Little Heavenly Demon?”

“Indeed, he’s the one who solved the murder case at the Debutante Ball. He’s rather shrewd.”

Though I wasn’t pleased, there was no other way to corner Father Brown.

I couldn’t let them roam freely when I could see clearly their intentions for being here.

“The reason the Inquisitor attended the ball as the Archbishop’s proxy is obvious.”

Even with their nonchalant demeanor, it was easy to guess what they aimed for by orchestrating such an event.

Father Brown is known as a Madman in the Zion Clan, infamous for his unpredictable nature.

Sending him to London, especially when he’s under quasi-permanent probation, means the Vatican

attempted to assert dominance over Her Majesty.

At the Buckingham Royal Ball, many distinguished guests, who have the right to speak at the European Murim Alliance meeting hosted by the Wu-Tang Clan, are present.

If an old master with formidable strength causes a scene under the guise of righteousness in front of them,

they would think Her Majesty’s prestige would plummet.

“Aha. So you’re suggesting that this old master overstepped his bounds. That I should not resist and just be butchered by a ruffian who drew his sword at me? What kind of place is the Royal Palace that it treats invited guests in such a manner?”

“If the old master had been a proper guest, he wouldn’t have provoked the demon by unleashing his Signature Sound. He brought danger upon himself, so who is there to blame? Did he perhaps sense the demon’s presence from the start and intentionally provoke him to cause a disturbance?”

Father Brown frowned, feeling the sting of the remark.

Logically, he had no reason to unleash his Signature Sound other than for a show of force.

“I acted purely on a priest’s instinct when I sensed a strong murderous aura. I was only concerned for the safety of my fellow brethren, so I decided to handle it personally. Please, do not be angry, young sir.”

“Do you think we’re fools, gathered here as top experts?”

“What did you say?”

“If you had such skills, you would have quietly subdued him from the start. Does the old man from the Zion Clan think this is a safe place to flaunt his power?”

Father Brown’s smile vanished at the nearly insulting remark.

He suppressed his emotions and was calculating, showing the cunning of a seasoned swordsman.

His attendance at the Royal Ball was to imprint the power of the Zion Clan on the minds of the English, under orders from the Vatican.

He must have planned to take down one or two people under some pretext and leave the palace without getting caught, causing great embarrassment to the British royal family.

What if he responds to my provocation and draws his sword?

Even if killing Sir Drake was a result of self-defense, if he wielded his sword against me without proper justification, it would give the British royal family a reason to send a letter of protest to the Vatican.

If such a thing happened, the Zion Clan would become the laughingstock of all Europe.

Father Brown, attending the ball as the representative of the Primate of All Ireland, couldn’t excuse it as a personal deviation.

‘Checkmate.’

In this situation, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and engage in a verbal battle with me.

If, by any chance, he succumbed to my provocation and drew his sword, he’d be expelled without gaining anything.

[So you intended to resolve this with words from the start.]

Mycroft tried to speak to me through the Omnidirectional Phantom Voice, but I ignored him.

Did he think I would face a master who had reached the level of being able to unleash Signature Sounds in a direct confrontation?

To think he saw me as nothing more than that, it’s unforgivable.

“This old man has limited knowledge and is not well-versed in the ways of the world, but he will humbly answer questions for the sake of the younger generation seeking guidance.”

Meanwhile, the Zion Clan priest was about to spout sophistry with a nonchalant Fun & Cool demeanor.

He had revealed his level of skill up to the point of his Signature Sound, so it must have been surprising for him that a mere junior dared to challenge him.

However, if he backed down now, the entire Roman Catholic Church would become a laughingstock among the Anglicans, so he seemed determined to spin some words despite his reluctance.

“Listen well. The world is nothing more than a Tabernacle where all things reside for the Moment, and this place is no different, this old man thinks. Do you understand what this means?”

The term “Moment” refers to a brief period, and “Tabernacle” means a humble dwelling made of grass and straw.

In other words, he meant that as a clergyman, he need not be bound by secular rules, so he would act as he pleased even in the Forbidden Palace that prohibits a hundred rudenesses.

It seemed he was emphasizing that he was a Catholic priest following the Vatican’s orders, not the Church of England, to excuse the rudeness of taking a life in the palace during the lovely afternoon.

To cover up wrongdoings by asserting religious authority. Depending on one’s perspective, it felt like a response true to his professional spirit.

Since that person had given a sufficiently plausible answer, deep contemplation was needed on how to corner the opponent next.

‘Father Brown is English. If we meticulously listed the Forbidden Palace’s rules and reprimanded him, we’d be mocked for punishing a national clergyman for subduing a demon that infiltrated the palace.’

Is that all? The Vatican would send several masters from the Zion Clan to London under the pretext of protecting Catholics from royal oppression.

‘Even if the royal family overlooks that person’s wrongdoing, it would be an international embarrassment.’

The damage to Her Majesty and the royal family’s dignity would weaken the British Empire’s diplomatic delegation’s voice at the annual European Murim League meeting. Naturally, this is also an unwelcome development.

Sending Father Brown from the Zion Clan was a calculated move.

Whichever side the royal family chooses, the worst outcome awaits.

Even if the full extent of the scheme is understood and a choice is made, it’s a situation where avoiding a critical hit is impossible.

To me, it seemed like a trap reminiscent of the debate with Mycroft, lying in wait with its mouth open for a sacrificial lamb.

“……”

At this point, it was understandable why perceptive nobles and politicians were hesitant to step forward.

They feared that their actions might tarnish the royal family’s prestige.

Being pushed by a sense of justice into Father Brown’s trap

could mean that Her Majesty and the entire British Empire would have to bear the responsibility.

[Step back, Sherlock. This is not a place for you to interfere.]

Mycroft was also sending frantic transmissions, seemingly worried.

However, letting go of prey already caught is something that the pride of an English gentleman cannot allow.

I still have a decisive move that can provoke a mistake from Father Brown.

“Indeed, there is nothing to fault in the words of the reverend. You reveal glimpses of wisdom accumulated through your long training.”

I spoke in a humble tone, feigning admiration at the priest’s response.

To anyone observing, it seemed like I recognized the gravity of the situation and took a step back, bowing my head.

“Isn’t it written in Proverbs that gray hair is a crown of glory gained in a chivalrous life? The eloquence honed through long theological battles is one of the few prides of an old man like me.”

Apparently pleased with this, the old man flashed a cheerful smile, as if to laugh off the impertinent behavior of the young disciple who dared to criticize him.

It seemed my excellent acting had taken effect.

But that feeling was short-lived.

“However, young brother, why do you commit the discourtesy of not revealing your name and tutelage even after calling me senior and seeking my teachings?”

The old man, with a hardened expression, began to lecture me on manners as if ready to reprimand me.

Everyone was appalled at the audacity of reprimanding someone for rudeness after committing murder in the Royal Palace, but the priest himself was as bold as ever.

The fortunate thing is that I am someone who knows how to twist the faces of such scoundrels with anger.

“My apologies. I was unaware that my ignorance led me to offend this senior.”

“Now that you are aware, it’s fine. Since you are humble, reveal your name and tutelage, then express sincerity with the Ultimate Kowtow1, and I will overlook your mistake with my broad generosity.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a bright halo appeared behind the priest’s head.

-Gooohhh!!!

Father Brown was a warrior priest who had unlocked his upper Elixir Field.

He was pressuring me with his aura, along with the halo.

“…!”

It seemed as if he hadn’t even used his full power, yet my entire body, exposed to the energy wave, was tingling as if pricked by needles.

The arrogant old man clearly indicated that he wouldn’t hesitate to use force if respect wasn’t shown.

“Come. Bow. Hurry.”

Just as expected.

That old man was undoubtedly a murderer lacking proper humanity.

Meanwhile, the gazes of the ball attendees looking at me were growing colder, unlike before. Just moments ago, they were making a fuss as if welcoming a triumphant general.

Now, they were pleading with their eyes for me to comply with the elder’s demands.

To not worsen the situation.

However.

Why should I care?

Whether it’s an old monster from the Zion Clan or the Sistine Chapel Boys’ Choir, if they want to beat me with mere words, they should meditate for another hundred years.

“Hold on. Upon reflection, it seems I have never acted discourteously.”

Now then, allow me to answer.

1. TL/N: This is when one needs get on their knees three times and bow their head down to the floor three times each for a total of nine times ️ Thıs content belongs to Nov3lFɪre.ɴet