Chapter 18: If You Love Her, Turn Her into a Doll!

More than twenty years ago, the "Colonial Wars" on the Western Continent ushered in the grand era of steam and mist—the age of great maritime exploration.

At the same time, the three dominant churches—the Holy Sun Church, the Night Goddess Church, and the Steam Church—further solidified their authority and sanctity. As the colonial wars escalated, they intensified their eradication of secret sects and heresies. Many clandestine cults and sects were wiped from the pages of history. For instance, the "Twin Serpent Church" that Zorn once encountered was completely annihilated after several wars. Even their supreme deity, the "Twin-Ringed Serpent," was suppressed and sealed away.

Today, the secret sects and heresies that survive each possess an extreme nature. A common trait among them is their bloodthirsty cruelty and ruthless pragmatism—they spare no means to achieve their ends. Although Zorn now holds the reins of his own destiny and harbors the potential to become the ultimate Dark Spirit Warlock, it is worth remembering that former Dark Spirit Warlocks were once secretly manipulated by these sects and ultimately led to the executioner's block. After their deaths, many parts of these warlocks were stolen by the secret sects and cults, becoming components for future key antagonists, or transformed into materials and weapons.

Facing these secret sects, which pose a direct threat to him, Zorn remains cautious yet well-prepared.

Upon arriving at No. 46 Champs-Élysées and entering the manor, a middle-aged butler in his early forties guided Zorn into the grand hall. This was the gathering place for today’s tea party.

The spacious, well-lit hall featured a long table on the left where servants continuously laid out food on silver platters and fine dishware. Beyond the table stood arched glass windows, luxurious snowflake velvet curtains, and priceless murals. With Zorn’s limited artistic sensibility, he could barely discern that these paintings, crafted by renowned masters, were worth at least four figures in gold pounds.

To the right lay the gathering room, where over a dozen young nobles of Zorn’s age were conversing, laughter and merriment frequently punctuating the air. It was clear that they shared a harmonious camaraderie. Among them were some nobles Zorn recognized—true grandees, not like himself, who was merely a token addition.

Without a sound, Zorn slipped into this intimate assembly of young aristocrats.

They discussed many intriguing topics: steam factories, academics, oceanic adventures; their political views and opinions on the latest city ordinances in Overland City. All silently avoided the subjects of “mystery,” “strangeness,” and the unfathomable supernatural powers, for today they were here to witness a “miracle,” a tradition preserved with reverence.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zorn noticed two secret sect guards clad in blood-red thorned robes and masks decorated with thorn patterns, stationed by an arched doorway leading underground. These sects, wielding extraordinary powers, always cultivated an aura of mystique and ritual to subtly intimidate, control, and even lightly enslave those with weak wills, compelling obedience.

Zorn also observed that the young nobles at the gathering frequently stole glances toward the guards and the archway. First, curiosity was piqued by the mysterious ceremonial atmosphere. Then, the guests would be separated and gradually led underground to the ritual site. Nominally, they were to witness supernatural wonders, but in reality, they served as sacrifices—at least some of them.

Zorn was intimately familiar with this grim process.

Savoring a delicate pastry, Zorn silently mourned the Bruce family. Amid the tidal wave of steam and the resurgence of mysterious powers, many nobles thirsted for the supernatural.

Zorn’s father, Baron Leon, had ventured deep into the mist-shrouded waves of maritime exploration. The Bruce family, to which Miss Joria belonged, possessed even richer heritage. While seeking mystical power, they caught the attention of the Bloodshadow Rose. Now, Miss Joria was on the verge of mastering the “Rose Witch” rank within the witch hierarchy.

Her father, the influential duke, and her mother, the wealthy and generous noblewoman, had long before mastered mysterious supernatural forces. The Bruce family had long been tainted, reduced to pawns of the Bloodshadow Rose, their fate thus sealed.

In the original timeline, the Bloodshadow Rose discovered Zorn’s possession of formidable mystical power and sought to cultivate it. However, they underestimated the terror and strength of Zorn’s power. Eventually, they realized they could no longer control Zorn Corric.

By that time, Zorn had savored the taste of power and found his own path amid fear and calamity.

On that blood-soaked yet tranquil night, the ultimate Dark Spirit Warlock, Zorn Corric, arrived at this manor, standing before the bed of the sleeping Miss Joria. Amid her terror, he confessed his affection and sought to invite her to join him.

But in Joria’s eyes, Zorn Corric was a fallen noble, reduced to selling property just to maintain a shred of dignity—a complete failure. At best, in the realm of supernatural power, he was but a pitiful wretch empowered by the Bloodshadow Rose. She naturally rejected him with righteous firmness.

“I’m sorry, Zorn. I don’t think we’re meant to be…”

When the knife pierced his heart, blood flowed, and the world shattered into darkness.

Zorn no longer recalled the subsequent details, nor did he wish to.

Thus, on that bloody night, he turned the entire White Moon family estate, including the four Dobermans kept at the gate, into a graveyard. He slaughtered them all.

His beloved White Moon, Miss Joria, after being killed by Zorn Corric, was fashioned into a doll, carried with him at all times.

“We… can finally… be together forever, goodnight, my dear Miss Joria!”

In Zorn Corric’s dark warlock diary, this final entry about the Bruce family chapter sealed the end of this bloody and twisted love story.

Truly, it was a love etched deep into the soul.

“To love her is to turn her into a doll and carry her forever by your side!”

“If you don’t dare make her a doll, how can you claim that is love?”

Fans of the abstract “harem” genre were fond of emulating this approach.

“Do you enjoy daydreaming alone?”

Just as Zorn was lost in thought, lively and energetic Miss Joria suddenly appeared before him.