Gun of Ashes

The story’s progression became increasingly bizarre and elusive, with a heavy, dark curtain imprisoning everyone’s cognition, keeping everything at bay.

”Are you crazy?”

The voice of 047 rang out; he seemed not to have a specific form, nor was he akin to a ghostly presence.

”Quite the contrary, I am very rational, and it’s precisely because of this rationality that I made such a decision.”

Watson replied, power beginning to surge.

In the deadly duel between Lorenzo and Lawrence, Lorenzo ultimately broke through the threshold at the last moment; the Demon Hunter became the source of erosion, thus opening the closed door and allowing Watson to find a path to escape.

Lorenzo’s worries became reality; Watson and 047 were not creations imagined by him, yet similarly, these prisoners also escaped his cage.

But the anticipated destruction and disaster did not occur; no one knew what Watson truly intended, nor did they understand the kind of power she possessed as the Pseudo Holy Grail.

”You... weren’t this crazy before...”

047’s voice carried a hint of hesitation, as well as some sadness.

In fact, he knew very well that he and 016 were dead, but after death, they lived again, in a peculiar way; they were no longer themselves.

”I just have a clearer understanding of this world, and this feeling is quite amusing... just like how we were all ants once, but one day I broke free from that weak body, that weak will.

We became stronger beings, and then thinking of these things from an ant’s perspective, don’t you find it quite ridiculous?”

The words carried no emotion, and indeed, Watson herself had little emotion left; it was a transformation, just like Lorenzo had once described her, merely a monster with 016’s appearance and memory. She was once her but is no longer her.

016 is dead, died on the Night of the Holy Arrival, from a rational standpoint, Watson at this moment only inherits all this as the Pseudo Holy Grail.

She usually dislikes pondering these things; tracing back her origin sometimes makes it hard for her to distinguish who she truly is, resorting to commands echoing constantly in her mind, immersing wholly within it.

047 was silent; between people, there never exists complete mutual recognition or understanding, let alone with a higher being.

But he can feel that Watson still maintains a hint of humanity, and that hint of humanity makes her Ascension incomplete; perhaps because of these reasons, she is the Pseudo Holy Grail and not the true Holy Grail.

It’s also this retained humanity that leads 047, a lingering soul, to decide to join hands with her to execute those plans.

...

Minutes had passed since the battle commenced; indeed, this time could still be considered brief, but within this brief time, the New Pope had already walked between life and death several times.

He was thinking intensely, dealing with the Angel’s attacks while trying his best to prevent the leakage of his own information.

This was truly a terrible day; so many guests arrived, yet their purposes were unclear, not knowing who were foes or allies.

The Angel’s attacks became more rapid, spiral threaded spikes thrust from the palm, striking swiftly; each strike carried massive power, easily cleaving through rocks, but as a Demon Hunter, the New Pope could handle it with ease, though his Nail Sword seemed to be struggling.

Ultimately, it was just a mortal object; under high-intensity combat, the Nail Sword had been littered with fine notches and shallow cracks, as if one more hit would completely break it.

”Are you being hunted by them?”

After a long silence, Lawrence finally asked; at this moment, the erosion pressure within the Static Holy Temple was nearly as oppressive as the deep sea, under this power, mortal bodies were crumbling.

The New Pope had been attacked by these Angels more than once, so what was the reason for their attacks?

Lawrence vaguely sensed the reason’s presence but dared not confirm anything; meanwhile, the New Pope grew puzzled by Lawrence’s words.

The two opposed and guarded against each other, continuously probing one another, deducing the current state from fragmented words.

”I don’t know, but... perhaps it’s related to my pursuit of the Truth.”

This time, the New Pope did not conceal his thoughts, expressing his blurry speculations; indeed, he was unsure of the specific reasons, but from the Old Pope’s warnings, the Old Pope surely knew something, warning him that continuing to pursue it would lead to doom, yet the Old Pope hadn’t anticipated that the New Pope had encountered the Angels more than once already.

These holy Angels guarded the Truth, killing all who dared to seek it.

The Old Pope certainly knew something, but he remained silent about it all, even down in Hell.

”So, could we at this moment also be glimpsing part of that Truth?”

The twisted body voiced such a question, sounding a bit trembling and chaotic.

The New Pope also hesitated for a moment; suddenly, the Angel altered its attack posture, and in the blink of an eye, the one battling the New Pope swung up its wings, those sturdy silver-gray Iron Feathers emitted like Flying Knives, gliding swiftly, resembling a rain of arrows.

On the surface, they shone with gray and white light, like a silver band flowing in the air; but this time, their direction of attack was not the New Pope, but Lawrence.