Gun of Ashes

This is like the dream that traps oneself, the place seemingly named the [Gap].

Whether advancing or retreating, the scene before him is a monotonous repetition, as if all his struggles and efforts are in vain, leaving him to struggle eternally.

The pain of torture arises from the body, and his conscious will gradually sinks into chaos, the intangible erosion like a sharp blade, seemingly cutting through his sanity.

It’s painful, yet it’s worth celebrating, this is the feeling of being alive.

Though his body is undergoing slight mutations, he is well aware, he is still alive, he hasn’t fallen into that bizarre dream, but even with this knowledge, when the dark corridor becomes endlessly long, as if it has no end, he will still feel confused and terrified.

The air is filled with a foul stench, accompanied by the fall of fire rain, the entire corridor begins to tremble, the dim lighting flickers, some barely manage to light up, while others extinguishly go out forever, and at the same time, the sound of dense footsteps arises, seemingly people running in the dark corner.

”Come on!”

Cole roars loudly, dragging his deformed body and begins to sprint in unison with those dense footsteps.

The scene in his vision starts to rapidly vanish to the sides, and the Folding Blade scrapes against the walls, erupting in dazzling sparks, he is shouting himself hoarse, seemingly about to die, yet somehow reborn.

The ferocious blade descends like thunder, the Demon carcasses shatter and fly before his eyes.

In truth, Cole had many things he wanted to say to Arthur, after so many years past, are there any familiar friends who have survived? How much has the intelligence on the Demons advanced? But unfortunately, this is not a good time for reminiscing, nor does he have the extra time to do so.

His mind was gradually being consumed by darkness, like a tired traveler, Cole’s slashing gradually turned into meaningless madness, yet he would soon regain some clarity, his violent stance paused, his gaze filled with bewilderment, like a child waking from a nightmare.

From the other end of the darkness came another stirring sound, a vaguely intimidating figure slowly turned around, only to be met with a blade gleaming into view.

It was also a Demon, seemingly attacked before, both of its arms were already gone, leaving only twisted stumps, with flesh and blood constantly writhing within.

It clenched its ferocious maw, and as its body deformed, its teeth fully embedded into the handle of the Folding Blade.

The Demon, holding the Folding Blade, rushed forward, the sharp blade glided past Cole’s side.

Cole tried to lift the Folding Blade to defend, but now his thoughts were so heavy, had it been someone else’s will, Cole would have long since mutated into a Demon, but he is Mordred, once a Ranger, with all sorts of specializations, allowing him to hold on till the end in this Hell.

But he was still slow, the grotesque wound split down along his arm, but also split along with the Demon in the shadow, The Folding Blade viciously slashed open its throat, the Demon let go of the mouth, stabbing the Folding Blade into the wall, then lunged down to fiercely bite at the Demon in the shadow.

Like beasts clashing, soon that Demon could make no more sound, its entire body became battered and fragmented under the biting, large smudges of foul blood stained the entire wall.

Cole glanced over, suddenly finding a familiar face beneath that foul blood.

After finishing all this, the armless Demon paused, it’s hard to imagine a troubled expression would appear on the Demon’s grotesque face, it was tempted by blood and flesh, but also became hesitant due to that final obsession.

Its murky crimson eyes reflected a similarly grotesque face, the next moment the Demon crashed into the wall’s handle, under immense force, the handle pierced a dented wound in its heart, then emerged from its back, blood gushed forth.

It was like a pinned insect on the wall, its only limbs twitched continuously, but never tried to pull out the handle, a whimpering sound came from its mouth, it could no longer speak.

After a brief pause, a sharp blade fell, ending its misery.

The head rolled into the foul blood, the expression peaceful.

”You’re not a deserter anymore, Gavin.”

Cole whispered, but due to the mutation, his voice had become hard to distinguish, turning into equally meaningless whimpering.

He no longer looked at the fallen head; all past sins were settled the moment Gavin died, no matter what he had done, no one would know anymore, and he too, reached long-awaited relief.

The road ahead seemed extraordinarily long, endless darkness, and piles of corpses, they lay broken in corners, some human, some Demon… in fact, these were all Cole’s compatriots, no matter what they had done, in essence, they were all human, humans driven mad by erosion.

”This is a civil war.”

Suddenly, Cole seemed to understand something.

Between humans and Demons, it had always been humans fighting each other, it was a brutal civil war erupting within humanity, and who knows how many years this bizarre civil war has continued, still persisting to this day, like a venomous curse, overshadowing everyone.

Cole’s breathing became heavy, perhaps shocked by his own conjecture, his chaotic consciousness briefly clearing, but soon after he felt a sense of helplessness.