Gun of Ashes

In its field of vision, Lorenzo’s firing had already been anticipated long ago, but for the current demon hunter, such gunfire hardly posed any fatal threat. It wasn’t that it failed to defend itself in time; it simply didn’t care about Lorenzo’s attack.

The blade light approached once more, and under the heavy strike, the charred floor beneath them shattered, sending the two of them directly plunging into the sea of flames below. Lorenzo rolled to his feet, but before he could continue swinging his sword, a scorching pain came from the wound.

Twisted flesh slowly broke through Lorenzo’s armor, like flowers sprouting from rock. Crimson lotuses bloomed upon the armor, under its dazzling appearance, the flesh penetrated deep into Lorenzo’s body like roots, gradually assimilating him.

Lorenzo coughed up blood, the tendril-like flesh gradually constricting him.

It was that sword, the nail sword encrusted with flesh, derived from the flesh of the Yanar demon hunters.

As its flesh spread, the entire Reichenbach had been assimilated into part of its body. One could say Lorenzo was fighting within an incredibly huge demon, and this proliferating flesh seemed like seeds, with other demon hunters’ sword strikes embedding into the flesh, taking root and sprouting.

In a short period, countless red lotuses bloomed on the stony armor. Lorenzo tried to move, but his joints were entirely bound by the vine-like flesh.

Beyond the sea of flames before him, one after another, figures rose and approached Lorenzo.

Countless red lines descended from the darkness above, connecting each and every horrific figure. At that moment, Lorenzo couldn’t discern whether they were driven mad by Moriarty or their bodies were dominated by Yanar’s power.

Or... both.

”So, is that where you are, Moriarty?”

Lorenzo whispered, as his armor, along with all the red lotuses, burst apart, the deeply rooted stems pulled up with the falling armor, as if pierced by a sharp sword. His emaciated figure bore countless small holes and scars, blood gushing uncontrollably from them.

Leaning on the nail sword, Lorenzo appeared grotesque.

Such injuries would be enough to kill anyone, but with the boiling secret blood, the wounds would heal within just a few breaths.

Lorenzo too had transformed into a monster, an immortal creature like these demon hunters.

[Secret Blood Awakening 47%]

A chilling voice echoed in his mind, but then it gradually blurred. A more searing pain spread from within his body.

Beneath Lorenzo’s chest, a faint red light emerged, as if a blazing sun became his heart, vigorously pulsing within the chest cavity of flesh.

He’s nearing his limit; once he crosses the final threshold, Lorenzo himself doesn’t know what he’ll become. Perhaps, as he learned in the Order, he will turn into a crazed demon, killed by the completely melted holy silver.

There’s no time to think about all this; once free from the armor, Lorenzo’s speed surged, coupled with the constantly boiling secret blood. As the enemies grew stronger, he too became more monstrous.

He engaged in battle with the demon hunters in the sea of flames, their eyes vacant, as if the souls beneath their shells had been completely burnt away by fury, leaving only the bodies of walking corpses.

He was always a violent person, with uncontrollable rage hidden beneath his somewhat cowardly eyes.

The nail sword slashed brutally, its speed continually accelerating, finally stirring up a rising whirlwind within the confined space.

Sparks and flames were drawn by the sword edge, tracing chaotic paths.

In such circumstances, facing these inhuman monsters, so-called swordsmanship had lost all skill; Lorenzo could only swing his sword harder, swing it faster.

Steel clashed with steel, heavy sparks erupted between the demon hunters and Lorenzo, until the weapon in his hand could hardly be called a blade.

It was merely a piece of steel, chipped, red-hot, and twisted.

Lorenzo had never appeared so battered, his body covered in wounds, each considered fatal, deep enough to expose bone. He no longer knew how much blood he’d lost; his clothes had been slashed until only ragged strips remained, soaked in sweat and blood, revealing a sturdy, nearly dying body.

But similarly, the red-hot twisted steel in his hand had dismembered the demon hunters before him into ruins, their powerful bodies collapsed.

One after another, bodies fell to their knees, like servants bowing to a sovereign, heads touching the ground, swallowed by the sea of flames and encroaching flesh, silent once more.

Lorenzo continued forward, like Death God himself. No matter how mighty a life, it couldn’t escape fate of death. If someone denied the arrival of all this, then Lorenzo would execute it personally.

The proliferating twisted flesh had reached Reichenbach’s outer walls. From the Sailing Dawn, one could clearly see Reichenbach’s surface was already covered in ghastly flesh. At the rear of the airship, a gigantic twisted tumor had appeared, as if the entire vessel transformed from machinery to a living organism, turning into a true giant whale cruising through the sky.

The flesh within his field of vision was also changing, as if towering trees descended upon Reichenbach, the flesh entwined beneath the deck like tree roots, intricate and deeply hidden.