Gun of Ashes

Seven Hills, Saint Nalos Cathedral.

Fr. Anthony stood high above, looking down; even during the day, this City of Faith was still filled with candlelight, the sounds of pious prayers permeating like mist, enveloping it.

However, within this holy faith, there was a bit of an ironclad murderous intent.

The streets were empty, devoid of pedestrians, with only fully armed Holy Hall Knights patrolling. Most residents had been dispersed, leaving a few devout ones to continue their unfinished prayers.

The whole of Seven Hills was in complete lockdown; outsiders only saw it as a puzzling blockade, but Anthony knew well that it was essentially a state of war. Whether it was the new Order or the Holy Hall Knights, all forces were mobilized, moving toward and stationing at Seven Hills.

Many sensed the off atmosphere but were unclear about what had really happened. It seemed the new Pope was about to start a war, yet the frontline appeared to be Seven Hills. Most perplexing was that no one could figure out who the enemy truly was.

The world was on the brink of mass war, but it had little to do with the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom. Industrial progress had gradually diminished the Kingdom’s control, and in recent years it was almost at rock bottom, with few caring about this once-powerful nation of faith.

There were no large industrial zones here, nor were there precise firearms or weapons. What was left, besides faith, was foolish, decaying faith; valueless faith.

Many believers felt that this war was irrelevant to them, unable to fathom any reason for the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom to be declared upon, but the truth was far beyond their guesses.

The Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom was not merely unable to remain uninvolved, but it was, in fact, the origin and core of this war, with the ultimate battleground being here, though the curtain had yet to be lifted.

All active Demon Hunters of the new Order were dispatched and grouped together. They assembled at Saint Nalos Cathedral, guarding against any potential crisis.

Most Demon Hunters were also unaware of what was happening, but they followed orders, defending in the shadows.

Anthony withdrew his gaze; it had been calm these days, calm to the point where the coming war seemed a mere illusory lie. Unfortunately, he was among the few in the Evangelical Church who knew everything.

He was quite aware of what would happen next.

”You look worried.”

Samuel approached, dressed in heavy armor, its polished surface gleaming faintly.

”So what really happened? How much longer are we to stay like this?”

He asked several more questions. Samuel stood beside Anthony, bewildered like many under the prolonged lockdown, unclear about the new Pope’s actions.

By rights, they, the Demon Hunters, should be out chasing Demons across the world, yet here they were, stuck, wearing these ornate armors, keeping watch like guards.

”A formidable enemy approaches, though they have not arrived yet... but they will.”

Anthony explained obscurely, reaching for a cigarette, only to find one crushed, with its tobacco almost spilling out.

Lorenzo’s message had safely reached Saint Nalos Cathedral, yet it differed from Lorenzo’s expectations. In reality, the new Order was already aware of most secrets, albeit not as detailed and clear as Lorenzo recounted.

As for the origins of these secrets...

Anthony glanced at the corridor behind him, extending toward the Gate of Celestial Kingdom. In the deep darkness, faint prayers could be heard.

”Is His Eminence doing well? I haven’t seen him for quite some time.”

Seeing Anthony still reluctant to speak, Samuel shifted the topic elsewhere.

”Quite well. I’m about to report to him,” said Anthony.

Though saying this, he made no movement, remaining with Samuel, seemingly relishing a final moment of tranquility.

Taking a deep breath, Anthony sighed; despite it being daytime, memories inevitably resurfaced.

”This reminds me of a night many years ago...”

Samuel said nothing, quietly listening.

”You ought to know this; we later called that night the ’Night of the Holy Arrival.’”

Anthony whispered softly, fearing he might awaken the Demon slumbering in darkness.

”Night of the Divine Arrival.”

Samuel responded, Anthony nodded, then remembering something, curiously asked.

”What were you doing that night, Samuel?”

”Me?”

Samuel recalled, it was years past, when he was merely a common man, unaware of these shadows. He tried remembering.

”I was in Florence; that night I remember seeing the fiery glow here. I even woke my friends,” Samuel laughed helplessly, ”We thought it was some grand festival, wondering if we should sneak a look.”

”And then?”

Hearing Samuel’s recount, Anthony couldn’t help but smile. That night, Saint Nalos Cathedral was nearest to Hell.

”Then... then came the soldiers flooding the streets...”

The distant memories awakened, Samuel momentarily trembled, feeling as if he was recalling someone else’s memories.

His tone unexpectedly carried a hint of fear; it had been quite some time.

”We conversed, speculating what transpired. These soldiers were unlike any we’d seen, well-equipped, wielding sharp swords... I later learned, they were the Holy Hall Knights.”