Gun of Ashes

Thrust and slash.

The wound expanded into the scar of a cross, with hot blood gushing along the trajectory carved by the metal.

Lancelot could smell the scent of blood, feeling a peculiar joy even while in the depths of Hell.

Arthur was right, he was a born knight, possessing a will of iron that surpassed everyone, with a greed so intense that even demons found it difficult to corrode and consume.

The desire for freedom.

Since his memory began, Lancelot understood that mysterious King’s Curse; initially, in his innocent naivety, he hadn’t realized what it truly was, treating it like a child’s joke, not to be taken seriously.

Such a naive dream continued for a long time until one day he fell over while running on the lawn, blood flowed persistently from his knee, and he awoke from the dream.

He witnessed with his own eyes the death of those royal family members, immobile and obese, their bodies embedded in exquisite prams, their pallid faces crying out meaninglessly, feeling the undeniable sensation of blood flowing beneath their skin, yet they were powerless against the internal hemorrhaging that reached deep within.

It was a slow funeral, Lancelot watching him die slowly, not like the peaceful passage to rest described by the priests; his grotesque, pained expression never softened, remaining etched like a sculpture on his pale skin.

Someone told Lancelot this would also be his fate, the fate of every Victoria.

”How wonderful...”

A faint voice echoed beneath the armor.

Lancelot felt a chill, the heavy rain soaking him, the dampness persisting.

The space within the armor was limited, his sight completely restricted beneath the face armor, unable to see his body’s condition, yet he knew clearly he was about to die, not just from the widespread fire rain and those troublesome demons, though the voice was faint, Lancelot could hear the sound of blood surging.

The wound on his knee throbbed faintly, blood endlessly gushed out, seeping through the gaps in the armor.

Yet he felt not an ounce of fear of death, instead overwhelming joy; he had shattered that dark fate, he wouldn’t die like a child in that absurd pram, but as a Knight Commander on the battlefield against demons.

After a brief bout of pain, the demon began its counterattack; having already lost its rationality, it acted purely on instinct, its entire body becoming bloated and cumbersome due to the continuous proliferation of armor, its strikes appeared incredibly slow as the metal ground against itself, releasing a shiver-inducing sound.

”Keep going! Lancelot!”

Percival brought down the great sword, tightly locking the demon’s attack, buying Lancelot precious time.

The light beneath the crevices turned crimson, within the armor Percival was nearly completely engulfed by the proliferating demon flesh.

The demon was enormous, under its deformity, its form had become incredibly blurred, Lancelot rapidly thrust his sword towards the flesh beneath, yet no matter how he attacked, he seemed unable to reach the heart encased layer upon layer of flesh, not to mention severing the head.

Wails merged into a single cry, countless demons galloping under the fire rain, advancing under the dome, they too realized the scene of disaster, instinct driving them to flee towards this place.

The once-safe area became increasingly dangerous, Red Falcon and others had no choice but to continue confronting the emerging demons, otherwise, before the fire rain killed them, the demons would tear them to shreds.

”What’s going on? Joey!”

At this point at the end of the passage, Joey, who had just organized people to evacuate into the research area, had returned again.

”Demons are moving toward here, and Ascalon’s shelling destroyed the passage... there’s still half the people on the other side.”

Joey responded; by now, he found it hard to feel any emotional fluctuations.

”Here!”

Blue Jade waved at them, they gathered near the wreckage of the Third Generation Armor, using the corner where the wreckage and building met as a temporary fortress.

It’s truly bad news, not only was the retreat cut off, with the descent of the fire rain, the surrounding demons gathered here, soon this will become the final battleground, where both humans and demons would meet their fate.

The wailing drew near, the demons gnashing as they advanced, the Aluminothermic Rifles were nearly empty, now everyone engaged in close combat, some managed to get a Folding Blade, but many more wielded fractured metal debris from the ground in battle.

”Eve! To Blue Jade’s position! Everyone, retreat there!” Arthur shouted.

With Arthur’s command, everyone began to move again, Eve wielding the Folding Blade cut down several demons trying to reach the area where Blue Jade was, but kept being blocked by demon after demon.

Brutal killing intent rose, a demon sneaked up to Eve under the cover of the torrential rain, preparing to pounce, when a heavy piece of broken metal crashed down fiercely, smashing the demon’s head to a pulp.

Eve turned her head, only to see Delun with a smug expression, his white patient clothes completely soaked in blood, seemingly injured, likely due to being a patient these patients often react to demons in two extremes, either completely oblivious to the horror or tormented by inner nightmares, easily consumed.

Delun was clearly the former; following this, he made a graceful gesture to Eve, leaving her momentarily unsure of what this lunatic was up to, until he noticed her confusion and said.

”Ladies first.”

Eve was momentarily at a loss whether to admire Delun’s gentlemanly manners or label him a lunatic, not knowing what was going on in his mind at such a moment.

”Thank you!”

She shouted loudly, charging through the path these lunatics opened.

The fire rain threatened both these survivors and the demons; Arthur watched as the large elevator platform was washed by rain and blood; Ascalon’s shells blossomed upon it, the scattered molten iron and its impacts overwhelmed most demons, relieving Arthur and the others of considerable pressure and bringing a glimmer of hope.

Arthur wasn’t sure of the Cleaner’s specific actions, but fire support had arrived, as long as they could hold out, survival was possible.

Most had already withdrawn to the location of the Third Generation Armor wreckage, Arthur was also preparing to move when he saw Cole and Gavin standing stunned in place, soaked by the rain.

In truth, the confrontation had reached its conclusion; they just needed to hold on, Arthur tried calling the patients to seek refuge together, but knowing their muddled thoughts, he wasn’t sure he could persuade them. Just as he was about to speak, Cole said.

”Ah... such a long-lost feeling...”

Cole rubbed his eyes, once again carefully observing this world.

”Cole...”

Arthur paused, trying to say something, but at that moment found nothing to voice. He couldn’t believe the sight of that aging face.

”You...”

But Cole turned at that moment to look at Arthur, his murky eyes becoming clear, as if no time had passed, everything seeming as if it happened just yesterday in Cole’s mind.

”Long time no see, Arthur.”

Arthur almost suffocated, unsure if it was the last flicker of life or something else; as the erosion deepened, what was once taken from them gradually returned.

Some patients, like Cole, with eyes of a newborn, surveyed the end of the world with rational gazes.

”Cole, come with me! We can’t stay here!”

Arthur’s heart twisted, many questions churned in his mind, but all he could say was this; however, Cole refused, slowly raising his hand, his expression complex, and said.

”I can’t go on living; the treatments from those doctors only delayed it, now it’s here.”

On his slightly decaying arm, corruption had begun, resembling the demons he knew well, bones already showing signs of deformity.

These patients had never escaped the plight of erosion, and now, the scars left by past invasions were exacerbated with the arrival of demons.