Gun of Ashes

Think about the end of the Black Mountain Hospital, such a large airship crashed on the ridge, and the aftermath still hasn’t been completely cleaned up by the Cleaners to this day.

Heracles took a deep breath, considering whether to flee back to Ingwig overnight.

...

”Praise God, praise the Father, praise this beautiful world.”

The Priest continued to recite from the stage, appearing deeply absorbed, but it was unclear if those dining below were listening; at least he was proving his devotion to God, or to those hidden observers.

Above the underground hall was a concealed second-floor gallery, but with no lights, no one could distinguish it from the darkness.

Corey was sitting there, enveloped in shadows.

He observed the laughing crowd below, each face showing sincere smiles as they prayed together for the delicious food.

A contemptuous smile appeared on his pallid face, Corey was like a Shepherd, and those people were his flock.

”Corey Ferre.”

A calm voice emerged from the darkness behind him. Corey turned to see someone stepping out from the shadows.

He was dressed in a blood-red clerical robe, his face hidden by a pitch-black mask, and in the darkness, Corey found it hard to discern the mask. Upon first glance, he even felt an illusion of emptiness beneath the red robe, as if lifted by a Ghost.

”Dean Lawrence, I am allowed to call you that, right?”

Corey asked, facing this mysterious figure without a hint of fear.

”You can, names are not important.”

Lawrence’s voice came from behind the mask, as he sat on the opposite side of Corey, his gaze also cast down to the crowd below.

”So, is the time set?” Lawrence asked.

”Cardinal Miguel has already been informed.”

”That’s good.”

As the conversation ceased, Lawrence seemed about to rise and leave, but Corey stopped him before he could move.

”Wait a moment, Dean Lawrence.”

Corey exclaimed, staring intently at the silent mask, speaking slowly.

”Dean Lawrence, once a Cardinal of the Evangelical Church, once the Dean of the Demon Hunting Order, now the Choir’s Dean.”

Still silent, Corey felt the gaze from beneath the mask.

”It’s nothing, I just want to understand you, after all, I’m genuinely curious how you managed to gain such trust from the King, accelerating all these proceedings, establishing the Choir, forming an army, Orthodoxy’s enthronement…”

Corey couldn’t help but shake his head.

”I spent over a decade trying unsuccessfully to persuade the King to achieve all this, but your arrival activated a pace maker; one difficult task after another was accomplished in mere months, something I expected would take years.”

”What are you trying to say?”

Lawrence replied, his voice muffled and metallic, perhaps due to the mask.

”I’ve dedicated my life to Gaulunaro, but now a stranger has intruded into my homeland. How do I know he won’t burn it all to the ground?”

Corey’s voice was calm.

Blatant and undisguised, the atmosphere turned murderous.

Fixing his eyes on the gaps of the mask, Corey knew that beneath the darkness was Lawrence’s gaze, the darkness quivered like countless snakes entwining, their scales rubbing with a terrifying rustle.

”But that’s no longer important, Lawrence. I ought to thank you, this stranger.”

Corey smiled again, his expression inscrutable, like a cold serpent.

”Thank me?”

Lawrence found this sudden shift puzzling.

”Thank you for facilitating all this, Lawrence. If it weren’t for you, I would have had to find a way to exhaust the King lying on his sickbed, then gradually marginalize Cornel, a weak child who would have heeded my every word.”

Corey stood up and walked into the darkness, retrieving a bottle of wine from the rack, pouring a glass for himself and Lawrence.

”But that would take far too long, possibly years or decades, with countless changes along the way. After all, those ministers have long held a grudge against me, their roots deep within the power structure.

I can’t confront them directly, ultimately, I’m just an Iron Law Bureau Director. Who knows, one misstep could mean my death in an assassination.”

Corey pushed the goblet towards Lawrence and drank alone.

”But I can survive for a long time, even though they want to kill me…”

Corey recalled something, speaking self-deprecatingly.

”I am just a dog, a fierce dog that might bite its master. The master is also afraid of me, yet there’s no choice, other dogs tuck their tails at the enemy’s roar, but only I charge ahead to sever their throats.”

”Interesting, I thought you were a passionate patriot.”

Lawrence didn’t touch the wine glass but watched Corey, finding him intriguing, for discussing subverting a kingdom so irreverently before him.

Such things mustn’t be spoken carelessly, let alone from the mouth of the Iron Law Bureau Director, a terrifying secret, and now Lawrence knew, curious about what would happen next.