Gun of Ashes

Chapter 61: Chapter 44: Hardcore Military Enthusiast

Carrying that black box, Lorenzo slowly returned home after sunset. The mist rose along the way, with prismatic light reflecting through tiny droplets, creating an illusion that was mesmerizing and disorienting.

After briefly greeting Mrs. Van Rudd, Lorenzo returned to his room and promptly locked the door.

Lorenzo took out the only piece of information he obtained that night in the Underground Palace, an account book. One of the major reasons Lorenzo saved Eve was because of this book. It had left the Underground Palace with Eve and the small boat, so it was well-preserved, with the writing still clearly visible.

Human memory is unreliable. No matter how hard you try to remember, you may eventually forget, sometimes unaware that you’ve forgotten.

Hence, every organization, regardless of its nature, needs an account book – a detailed record of expenditures. Even Sabo’s gang is no exception.

His fingers glided over the entries, flipping through them. The entries were chaotic, suggesting the bookkeeper was quite unprofessional, with the various outlays erratically scribbled without order. Some transactions might have been significant, represented by strange symbols.

Lorenzo couldn’t find any clues after looking for a long time. Thinking for a moment, he nonchalantly took out a cigarette rolled with Wind Tobacco, hoping that the eerie Spiritual Vision might aid him. However, he hesitated; his bond with the dark had undeniably deepened, and using the herb again left him uncertain of what might happen.

But...who cares? When in doubt, just a smoke.

With that thought, Lorenzo lit the cigarette, casually opened the box he had brought back from the graveyard. It contained more than imagined. Besides the sword blade, there were many bottles and jars.

Grasping the reassuring sword blade, its touch like cold frost, he inhaled deeply to draw the medium’s herb into his lungs, staring at the account book. Soon, the entire world plunged into darkness.

The familiar sound of ocean waves echoed, the moist wind carrying a maritime scent, and angry waves crashing against the shore shattered upon the rocks into white foam.

Lorenzo lowered his head, for once, his expression was grave.

Underfoot was soft ground, withered yellow grass dying upon it.

This environment was so vividly real that if not for Lorenzo’s conscious mind, he’d think he’d actually come to this unknown place.

The advantage was he could use the Spiritual Vision to see more clues, but the downside was his connection to the darkness had grown deeper.

A ghostly green light flared a short distance ahead, as if a burning green sun, or perhaps some giant eye was gazing at the world.

Looking up, it was the lighthouse Lorenzo kept seeing, now right before him, its damp structure riddled with moss and vines. The top emitted an ominous light, and if he was not mistaken, the mysterious Holy Coffin should be stored within it.

This was the source of everything.

After briefly savoring the discovery, Lorenzo calmed down. He needed more clues; Ingwig was coast-lined with at least a hundred such lighthouses. He had to identify distinguishing features.

But while he was looking around, a hoarse noise arose, and a shadow enveloped him. The bizarre figure faced away from the green light, its breath warm like a giant bear, pouring from its blood-drenched mouth.

Lorenzo did not fear; he had used the Spiritual Vision many times. Though what he saw was partly real, much of it was still illusion, merely the work of herbs and that unknown power.

Thus everything before him could be said to be an illusion, only the clues were real. Yet just as he thought this, the shadow attacked. As if testing, it casually swiped away as one dismisses a fly, striking aimlessly at Lorenzo.

Instinctively warned, without thinking, Lorenzo lifted his sword and slashed at the imaginary shadow, warm blood splattered onto Lorenzo’s face.

The feeling was so genuine that every hair on Lorenzo’s body sensed the blood brushing his cheeks, and every nerve surged with electricity.

Was this real...?

The shadow roared, the immense force crashed on the sword blade, sharp claws leaving a bloodstain on Lorenzo’s arm. No time was left for Lorenzo to assess reality, he swiftly raised his sword again, but the phantom shadow dispersed like ink under his strike, and the entire dark world collapsed, reverting to the familiar room.

Still in a sword-swinging stance, there was nothing before him.

Unnoticed, the cigarette had burned out, ending the Spiritual Vision.

Sweating coldly, Lorenzo slumped into the chair, slowly placed the sword blade on the table. After a long pause, pain arose from his arm.

It was a shallow wound, as if compelled by a ghostly force, he wiped his face, the palm stained with crimson blood.

That was...real.

Everything seen in the Spiritual Vision was real; just then, Lorenzo truly battled the monster within the vision.

This wasn’t a random occurrence; this had never happened before.

Taking a deep breath, a terrifying suspicion arose in Lorenzo’s mind.

His connection to the darkness had deepened, so much that Lorenzo could momentarily and truly stand in that world within the Spiritual Vision.

This was not good news. As he mentioned to Eve, you live in the same world as dark creatures, but the two can’t perceive each other. Now, Lorenzo could see them, and they could see Lorenzo.