Gun of Ashes

Without a moment’s hesitation, the Nail Sword slashed down haphazardly, cutting off all the flesh that bound it, whether it was the Demon’s or his own.

Striking repeatedly, as if unable to feel pain, until Moriarty pulled out his already partially severed arm from the flesh, his right leg already broken under the chaotic strikes, bleeding continuously, yet he no longer cared about these. Supporting himself with the Nail Sword with his single arm, he inch by inch drew closer to Lorenzo. Their battle wasn’t over yet, and no one could interfere with them until it was.

The broken, staggering figure loomed tall in the sea of fire.

”I’m starting to think you truly are a madman.”

Lorenzo said with a hint of admiration.

Under the sea of fire, that grim visage laughed loudly.

”It’s a terrible world. If I can’t correct it, then I’ll let it correct me.”

The two approached each other slowly, like fugitives at the end of their rope, stubbornly wielding their only swords for some laughable reasons one after another.

The clamor of swords stirred the sparks, swirling into a trail of flames.

As expected, Moriarty’s swordsmanship was terribly lacking. Lorenzo’s blade avoided his swings and severed his only arm with one strike. Amidst the flying blood, the severed arm, still tightly gripping the Nail Sword, plunged into the sea of fire.

”I won, Moriarty.”

Lorenzo said softly, but then he saw it.

On that face smeared with foul blood, beneath the massive scar that nearly split his skull, a faint flame ignited in the depths of darkness.

Moriarty’s smile gradually turned ferocious; this was a move Lorenzo had used before.

”I learn quickly, don’t I? Lorenzo Holmes.”

Long before Lorenzo blinded him, Moriarty had captured him. He had been playing weak all along, launching a deadly strike in this final moment.

Authority · Raphael.

Illusions overlapped, the severed arm turned into countless sparks scattered, followed by another sword thrust. Using Lorenzo’s voice, Moriarty judged his position.

The sharp sword light descended right before his eyes, touching Lorenzo’s throat. But after extreme cold, it could not advance another inch.

Moriarty was dead.

In fact, Lorenzo couldn’t determine if he was dead or alive either. In this blazing sea of fire, everyone’s figure had become twisted and ferocious, like evil ghosts struggling in Hell.

Lorenzo could not see his face, but he could see countless tentacles piercing through his body. This madman who had been manipulating others was finally manipulated himself, twisted, growing flesh devoured him once more in his last moment.

Did I win then?

What was thought to be some earth-shattering epic battle turned out, in the end, to be two incredibly battered guys laughingly brawling together, without even a conclusive end.

Because Lorenzo was also dead, at least he thought so himself.

Countless tentacles also pierced his body, halting his sword swing meant to decapitate Moriarty in mid-air.

The next moment, rising flames engulfed the entire engine room, while the wildly growing flesh finally broke through the iron restraints. Observing from the perspective of the Sailing Dawn, you could see the giant gasbag crawling with vine-like flesh tendrils, interspersed with countless severed limbs and corpses.

Lorenzo’s consciousness gradually became muddled, the endless heat followed by an ocean-deep coldness. He heard someone calling his name, and so he opened his eyes.

...

On the deck, 042 opened his eyes. He was completely drenched, not because he just got pulled out from the sea, but because he was painted with layer upon layer of blood, both his own and others’, extending to the other end of the deck.

He was extremely exhausted, gripping the already broken Nail Sword, lifting his head.

It was a beautiful night sky, incomparably clear, with stars and the glowing moon hanging above, spanning the entire night sky. Hazy white light fell, enveloping this sea like a curtain.

”How beautiful...”

042 couldn’t help but sigh, having lived this long, this might be the farthest he’s ever been from Florence. He was happy, and even happier about what was to come. In a few more days and nights, he would see the city rising at the end of the sea, and he would come to new land to start a new life.

Just like 047 always told him, in the place called Old Dunling, a completely new life awaited him.

Even just imagining this, 042 felt a sense of beauty, even thinking that dying under such a beautiful night sky while thinking about that beautiful land wasn’t so bad at all.

Yes, such a funeral would certainly be good for him.

Slowly raising his hand, the blood had completely soaked his palm.

His current state was very dire; in the intense battle just now, to kill those Demonized Demon Hunters, he suffered severe injuries. A clear wound on his abdomen exposed white bone and internal organs, from which fresh blood continued to gush out.

042 was already too weak to fight, and on this fleeing ship, the heavy sound of gunfire continued. Initially, there were also the clashing of blades and roars, but as the gunfire persisted, gradually those sounds disappeared, leaving only the monotonous gunfire, which too eventually ceased.

Someone was approaching 042, clad in armor full of cracks, holding a short-barreled shotgun, with the barrel still stained with blood.