Gun of Ashes

The enemy was as vast as the sea, with fangs and claws, bringing ominousness from the depths of darkness.

Ed stood on the high ground like a god descended to the world, with purifying flames raging on his body.

The inscriptions of alchemy are named after the angels in the ”Gospel,” with different inscriptions having various effects when paired with Secret Blood. Combined with the power of Secret Blood and alchemy, alchemists call this power Authority.

For example, what Ed possesses is the Authority brought by the Michael inscription, the ultimate ignition of all things, a scorching angel.

As Ed burned, the entire world became restless, demons emerged from rigid flesh, hoarse and craving blood and flesh, surging like tides against Lorenzo and the distant Radiant.

These should be the residents of Ende Town, who had been asleep in that damned dreamscape, now completely eroded into demons.

They seemed like Ed’s soldiers, brushing past the scorching light, advancing with a roar.

”How sad it is...”

Lorenzo watched it all quietly, feeling neither fear for the endless demons nor dread for Ed’s current power, only sadness.

Neither the resurrection of the demons nor Ed’s hatred moved Lorenzo.

Only the heartbreaking defiance did.

Demon hunters and demons were always mortal enemies, but now Ed stood with them without being attacked. Lorenzo was unsure what technology made this possible, but it was certain the demons were back, rendering the sacrifices of the Night of the Holy Arrival meaningless.

He felt both sadness and anger.

”I... am not a traitor. From the beginning to the end, it’s a fight to the death between me and the demons!”

Lorenzo responded angrily, with intense flames blooming.

He held the burning blade to meet them, cleaving a gap in the pitch-black tide with a bright white shadow, scattering black ash like snowflakes in the wind.

The sharp blade pierced the tide of demons, their twisted figures filling his vision. Lorenzo hacked away with abandon, striding forward.

He had to kill Ed.

The demon hunter touched Lorenzo’s inviolable line, and whoever crossed it must die.

But in the next second, pure white light descended like a falling meteor.

Ed’s burning blade came with immense heat, with the pure purifying flame and boiling Holy Silver, deadly firelight surging.

”You’re the traitor, siding with them!”

Winchester roared low, bullets hitting Ed at point blank range, only to melt into molten iron and scatter.

That was the Authority from Michael, the ultimate heat, like a walking scorching sun.

Under the dazzling light, Lorenzo’s vision even began to blur, but he stubbornly swung his sword, while the Secret Blood gradually awoke, allowing him to persevere.

But the next moment, a burning hand seized Lorenzo’s throat, the raging heat instantly suffocating him.

”No, you have no idea what I’ve been through.”

The burning demon whispered, ignoring the sword strikes.

”Everyone celebrated the end of the Demon Era, but because of the Night of the Holy Arrival, the Pope signed Decree No. 13... Can you understand how I feel? We thought we were heroes, returning eagerly to the Seven Hills, but were instead met with not the Pope’s reward but the Holy Hall Knight Order’s ambush!”

Endless flames baptized Lorenzo, making him whimper in pain, trying to lift the sword to wound Ed, but under the extreme heat, the Nail Sword turned red and shattered like melting ice.

”It was a nightmare, everyone died, surrounded in the Seven Hills, with fire oil and barrage on the walls.”

Scarlet eyes looked at Lorenzo, whispering in his ear.

”Do you know how Michael died?”

The voice was like a hammer blow, shaking Lorenzo to his core.

Of course, he knew who Michael was, the strongest demon hunter in the Demon Hunting Order, bestowed with the angel’s name, a code name and an honor.

”He ignited the Secret Blood, awakening beyond the critical point, a daytime fallen to the earth, allowing me to escape the Seven Hills while he died as the Silver Binding Bolt melted, every inch of bone covered in molten metal, like a sculpture.”

A slight exertion of the wrist, the sound of burning flesh, this was slow execution venting Ed’s hatred.

”We were once hunters, but now prey. They burned every captured demon hunter, I alone escaped! Everyone died inexplicably! Died meaninglessly!”

As his anger rose, the sharp Nail Sword erupted again, and Lorenzo, grasping the fractured Broken Sword, broke free at the last moment, white smoke burning on his body, coughing painfully, nearly incinerated by Ed.

He forcefully retreated, the Nail Sword slashing at the illusory flames, stirring the surging light.

More demons swarmed, and under repeated heavy blows, Lorenzo found it difficult to counterattack, thrusting the Broken Sword into one of their skulls, stabbing down through the gaping maw.

Watching the beleaguered Lorenzo, Ed approached slowly, the burning continuing with every step; demons merely approaching turned to ash.

”I’ll let you feel their pain, purify you completely with the sacred purifying flame.”

The Holy Hall Knight Order lacked Secret Blood, but their numbers were like swarms of ants, many demon hunters died from exhaustion, then tossed into burning pyres, Secret Blood and bodies alike consumed.

”Or perhaps... tell me what really happened, and maybe I can let you die a little easier.”

Amidst the unseeable flames, Lorenzo surprisingly sensed a hint of plea, and he smiled.

Ed had always been like this, everything he did was in pursuit of an answer, an answer about the Night of the Holy Arrival.

Why, adorned with honor, did they become enemies of the Church, why did his friends die unaccountably, and why wouldn’t the demon hunter before him reveal the truth.

Like an obstinate child, he yearned for just that answer, an answer that could stop him.

Just one answer, and all would end, but Lorenzo knew well he couldn’t speak it, like the demonic corruption, that thing could only live in his memory; once told, it would no longer be confined alone.

It would live in Ed’s memory, expanding like a virus.

This was a deadlock, ending only with someone’s death.

So, under the roar of hatred, everything blurred.

Lorenzo felt warm, not the furnace-like sensation, but a soothing warmth, like immersing in warm water, reminding him of his home bathroom, but he quickly grew alert—this was a Nightmare Illusion, the strange dreamscape still impacting him, eroding his will amid the fight with Ed unawares.

The burning battlefield vanished, the surging demons disappeared, Lorenzo shivered, falling from his chair.

He looked up at a clear night sky, stars vividly shining, releasing colorful light, standing alone in the cold wind-trembled icefield, with only a damned chair beside him.

Damn! Damn!

Pausing briefly, he angrily pounded the ice, sweeping away snow, seeing his pitiful face reflected on the dark blue ice.

How could he be invaded by the dream now, he had to wake up quickly, wake up!

This time, Lorenzo truly panicked, perhaps by pounding the ground, he had already been killed by Ed.

Wake up!

Thinking this, Lorenzo attempted to draw a blade to kill himself, only to find no sword when reaching to a familiar place.

What on earth was happening?

During the Order days, Lorenzo underwent special training for such anomalous dreams. In dreams, demon hunters had the advantage, as it was their dreamscape; with strong will, they were the creator, hence why Lorenzo easily acquired weapons in the initial dreamscape—when there were none, he imagined one.

But now, he couldn’t do it, everything was stiff; he found himself alone in this desolate world.

”You look truly pathetic.”

A familiar voice suddenly echoed, Lorenzo whipped around to see a man walking slowly under the enormous full moon at the icefield’s edge.

Lorenzo paused, then realized the problem’s root.

”This isn’t a dreamscape... Where is this?”

The man smiled, spreading his arms as if welcoming him.

”Welcome to the [Gap].”