Gun of Ashes

But it’s still not enough, not enough.

Under the siege of these demons, Lorenzo still finds it hard to reach Lawrence the Dean, the truth he has pursued for years is about to leave.

Suddenly, dawn breaks.

It’s the burning spear piercing through the night sky, the high-temperature metal rushing fiercely attached to semi-melted iron, bringing the fiercely burning liquid down like a torrential downpour.

This sudden iron rain lights up everything in sight, each drop of molten metal punctures through each demon below, finally solidifying on the ground, like erect tombstones.

Under the light, the sinister shadows stretch and twist beneath the demons, nailed to the tombstones then burned to ashes.

Even if they can foresee the future, it doesn’t matter. Under such a massive attack, even if anticipated, Lawrence the Dean cannot escape. As the iron rain descends, countless demons pounce on him, acting like flesh shields, layer upon layer, blocking that fatal steel.

Amidst the endless chaos, a faint electric motor sound rises, winches spinning rapidly, then cables, blended into the night, burst through the air, crossing the scorched earth, nailing into the ground before Lawrence the Dean, the next moment azure armor descends from the sky.

The gaze beneath the face armor is cold and ruthless, drawing the sword from his waist, stepping over the not-yet-solidified iron water.

Lancelot is always so reliable. He had arrived at the battlefield as soon as the battle began, but he didn’t act recklessly. Instead, he held onto the iron cables extending from the airship, overlooking the entire situation, ready for a deadly strike.

”Truly fearsome.”

A soft sigh comes from the ashes, Lawrence the Dean slightly turns, staring at the iron spear that pierced several demons, narrowly missing him.

The red-hot iron spear stuck into the ground emits a terrifying temperature, just a few centimeters away from Lawrence the Dean, its scorching edges baking his body, causing burning pain, yet it did not ultimately hit Lawrence the Dean. This strike could even pierce through steel plates.

This was a strike Lancelot had prepared for a long time, throwing the Spear of Melting, then shooting it with armor fire blunderbuss to detonate it prematurely.

The explosive fire rain maximizes the destructive area, and amidst the burning, the iron spear becomes the deadliest hidden arrow, mingling within the fire rain to deliver a lethal blow.

But all these were long seen through by Shangdafeng who can see the future, Lawrence the Dean had already prepared a countermeasure.

”Even more terrifying is yet to come.”

The hot air surges, black armor flows with scalding iron water, Lorenzo follows Lawrence the Dean like a nightmare. This lunatic trusts the armor he’s wearing for unknown reasons, daring to step into the fire rain.

The great sword swings fiercely, leading a scorching wind.

At the critical moment, Lawrence the Dean raises the broken sword to block the slash of the great sword, borrowing the force of the great sword’s swing to directly slam back, but the next moment the hook locks into another wall, and Lancelot grips the sharp blade closely following.

Without communication, the two perfectly cooperate, the nail sword completely shatters under repeated powerful impacts, Lawrence the Dean retreats backwards, yet immediately Lancelot’s blade swiftly falls, seeing he missed a strike, he directly raises the armor fire blunderbuss, squeezing the trigger, the Red Dragon exhales dragon’s breath.

This should be Lawrence the Dean’s most desperate moment, decisively flipping to the other side, the next second hot iron rain covers the place he just stood, but before he can get up, Lorenzo charges again through the erupting burning iron rain.

At this moment, Medanzo’s authority fully displays its terror, like unmoving mountains, whether burning or impact barely shakes that solid armor, yet a casual sword from him can behead you.

Lawrence the Dean’s composed rhythm is entirely disrupted, following that burning great sword sweeps past, bringing a trace of crimson.

”You’re wounded, Dean.”

He seems like a hungry wolf, excited from sensing the blood.

”Not bad, child.”

Lawrence the Dean looks appreciatively at Lorenzo, he eventually discovers Shangdafeng’s flaw.

When demon hunters activate authority, there are always some special phenomena, like the burning incandescent white in their pupils. Lorenzo found Lawrence the Dean’s flames would extinguish for a period of time, he guessed that was the moment authority ceased, and actual action proved him right.

Future during that period is invisible to Lawrence the Dean.

The next second the speeding hook hits him, the sharp tip firmly nailing into his flesh, then the cable retracts, Lawrence the Dean is dragged over like a puppet, while Lancelot already raises his blade, as if Lawrence the Dean actively rushes towards the blade.

But at this life-and-death moment, invisible pressure presses down like mountains, even Lorenzo momentarily loses focus, and at this moment, a sharp sound rises, steel tears apart.

It’s an unimaginable scene, the blade about to hit Lawrence the Dean is forcibly broken, and Lancelot’s sword-wielding arm entirely bends over, no one expected this sudden change, before Lancelot could act, an aged arm pierced through the armor then withdrew, blood mixed with motor oil drips down from the metal’s end.

A man like a Demon God stands atop the armor’s wreckage.

”Child, you did very well, really well.”

He spoke in admiration, without much pause, slowly stepping down from the armor.