Gun of Ashes

Many times, the art of killing can also be called an art.

This was something a long-time friend of Lorenzo’s once said. He was a very flamboyant demon hunter, waving an elegant rapier, with a handkerchief tucked in his pocket and wearing pristine white gloves. After every mission, he’d spray a large amount of perfume on himself.

Lorenzo once thought this guy was just a narcissist with a cleanliness obsession, but later he realized this graceful demon hunter was indeed an artist; his sword skill was exquisite. Watching him kill was like appreciating a dance, and after the dance, the enemy fell helplessly, the crimson blood scattering like red flowers, without leaving a single stain on him, like the wind.

Thinking of this old friend wasn’t some life-flashing-before-eyes moment before death, it was just that Lorenzo suddenly realized he had reached a kind of artist level himself. Looking at his instantaneous reflexes and strategies earlier, the situation was instantly overturned by Lorenzo’s counterattack. If that friend were here, he would surely applaud him.

A new nail sword was drawn from the satchel hanging at his waist. Lorenzo coldly watched the mass of burning white flame, just waiting for the figure within to disappear.

But the expected scene did not occur; instead, it was the beginning of a nightmare.

From the boiling white, a pitch-black figure slowly walked out. The searing white flames seemed to wrap around him like fog. He pulled out the nail sword from his chest and casually tossed it aside, with Ed looking at Lorenzo with a ferocious smile, and then the pure white similar to the flames continually enlarged in his pupils, like the fire burning in the abyss, blazing fiercely, finally overflowing from that prison of darkness.

”Do you feel the pain?”

He looked proudly at Lorenzo, then raised the sword blade in his hand.

The previous strikes were too fast, like white light that could be grasped; Lorenzo couldn’t distinguish his weapon. But at this moment, he saw it clearly, followed by a burning pain from the wound on his shoulder.

The self-healing of the Secret Blood was curbed; it seemed some power was preventing Lorenzo’s self-healing, and the wound was vicious and terrifying.

”It’s... Holy Silver.”

Lorenzo saw the sword clearly and was chilled by this terrible fact.

The sword in Ed’s hand had only a blade and a handle, like a silver-white long nail, just like Lorenzo’s nail sword... or rather, the nail sword of the Demon Hunting Order.

It had been used for many years by its owner. Thanks to proper maintenance, the blade was still sharp, only that the once smooth blade now had many deep and shallow scratches, who knows how many enemies it had slain.

”Holy Silver, an alchemical product imbued with faith. Every great saint, upon dying, sacrifices themselves in a burning iron furnace, their dying bodies singing hymns, engulfed by rolling liquid silver, which after cooling and being processed by alchemists, becomes a product called Holy Silver.”

The madness in Ed’s eyes gradually extinguished, carrying nostalgia and a touch of sadness, he lightly brushed the blade.

”Demon Hunter, this weapon, though a sharp tool against demons, is also deadly to us.”

”I know.”

Lorenzo interrupted Ed, finally taking a serious look at the enemy in front of him, mixed emotions swelling.

”We are demon hunters, bearing the Secret Blood, which essentially comes from demons. That means we are also a group capable of controlling demonization... demons.”

”Yes, so the Holy Silver that kills enemies can also kill us.”

Ed whispered, then the madness once again swept over, he held the nail sword, its tip slightly drooping, a posture familiar in the Bolognese Swordsmanship to Lorenzo.

”So what is this then? The dragon slayer becoming the evil dragon?”

As if destiny’s mockery, Lorenzo looked at the demon hunter before him and laughed helplessly.

”You did all this, right? Besides those dead demons, only we understand the technology of using demons.”

”What do you mean? This Nightmare Illusion? I can’t do so much, at best just a henchman.”

”You’re working for the demons?”

”Is there a problem?”

Lorenzo shook his head, slowly raised the nail sword, adopting a stance similar to Ed’s; their sword blades reflected the burning eyes, and this vast battlefield was now their duel ground.

”So what are you ultimately after?”

Lorenzo finally asked.

”There are many reasons; like for many years I’ve been trying to find my kind because I have too many questions to ask.”

”What do you want to know?”

Lorenzo kept a cold countenance. He thought he was the only survivor, but now it seemed the Goddess of Fortune favored more than just him.

”Many things, like why the Order was disbanded, or why this world no longer needs us, or... the Thirteenth Secret Order!”

Ed’s voice eventually turned to a roar; he advanced hoarsely, the pure white flame covering his entire body like a burning beast.

The Thirteenth Secret Order.

For a moment Lorenzo’s thoughts stalled, but then the dazzling sword light dragged his mind back to reality. He barely countered, but his thoughts couldn’t stop churning.

Why the Thirteenth Secret Order, what madness did the Order last indulge in!

This was a slaughter between two demon hunters, the violent swordsmanship bringing with it blazing white flames. Ed’s Secret Blood was also gradually awakening, his strength and speed increasing by the second, and the impact from the blade became heavier.

”What are you waiting for! Demon Hunter, awaken that filthy Secret Blood already!”

Ed’s nail sword struck with great force, pushing Lorenzo back a few steps. Then he picked up the Winchester rifle to shoot, but now, under the protection of the Secret Blood, Ed’s form had reached a bizarre speed, obviously at a point-blank range, yet he avoided it with his swift steps.

”We don’t have to fight to the death!”

Lorenzo blocked another sword strike, then shouted.

He and Ed might be the last demon hunters; perhaps the knowledge they had when combined could piece together the deepest mystery of the Order, but Ed refused. He shouted.

”No chance, Demon Hunter!”

The heavy sword strike fell again, hacking into the ground and leaving a deep scar.

”So who are you working for now!”

Lorenzo gritted his teeth, seemingly unexpected that the long-dead Order could still provide obstacles for him today.

Ed didn’t answer, only attacking relentlessly.

”No... who are you really... All the demon hunters died on the Night of the Holy Arrival! Who are you!”

Suddenly remembering something, Lorenzo finally realized the doubts between these matters. He questioned again.

It seemed to have captured Ed’s attention; this time, he did not continue to attack but instead showed manic delight, as if discovering some treasure.

”You do know what happened that night, right!”

The Legend of the Demon Hunting Order finally cleared up a bit, Ed spoke slowly with years of hatred and confusion.

”Of course, I’m a demon hunter too, just that when you all went to the Seven Hills to celebrate the Divine Birthday, I was still outside on a long-term mission.”

”And you know what happened next, right.”

Looking at Lorenzo, although what Ed said wasn’t much, in Lorenzo’s mind, a clear story had already appeared. He remained silent, those memories that were supposed to be buried deep in his mind.

The Night of the Holy Arrival incident broke out, the Pope signed the Thirteenth Secret Order after the event, immediately followed by the disbanding of the Demon Hunting Order. The demon hunters who once defended humanity became rats in the sewer, left to be slaughtered at will.

”Why, Demon Hunter, why did we end up with this?”

Like a child who doesn’t understand societal reasons, Ed kept asking Lorenzo, seeming to ask himself, yet like asking Lorenzo.

Looking at Ed’s crazed yet sad cheeks, Lorenzo had left the Order after the Night of the Holy Arrival. He guessed the Church would conduct a purge, but he didn’t expect it to be the Thirteenth Secret Order.

”Isn’t this result good?”

Lorenzo suddenly retorted, carrying that nonchalant demeanor.

”The corrupt company finally died; we are finally free. Why still bask in hatred? Isn’t it better to chase dreams freely?”

Lorenzo said it and even laughed, as if amused by himself.

But Ed shook his head, looking at Lorenzo as if seeing someone deceiving oneself.

”Demon Hunter, you’re more pitiful than I am. I’ve faced my pain directly, but you hide yourself with ridiculous dreams. The fact you still hold onto the nail sword is the best proof.”

He said to Lorenzo as if casting a poisonous curse.

”You are scared too, right? Afraid of demons suddenly stepping out from the darkness, that’s why you tightly hold onto the nail sword without letting go.”