Gun of Ashes

The sound of the blade piercing through flesh, the whispers of blood flowing, seemed to freeze all time in this moment, with madness gestating and erupting in the silence.

”What an... expected development.”

The Plague Doctor coughed up blood, staining the lenses of the beak mask with a wash of red, turning the view into a crimson landscape.

”You think you know me well?”

Lawrence’s voice was cold, void of any emotion. Looking up, all that could be seen was the unchanging black mask.

Perhaps he once had a warm, beating heart, but since the moment he wore that icy mask, he had bid farewell to everything.

”Isn’t that so?”

With a hint of amusement, the Plague Doctor grabbed the Nail Sword that impaled him. Meanwhile, his other hand on Lawrence’s back began to mutate. In an instant, sharp, bizarre claws broke free from the glove’s restraint, tearing through flesh, emitting a cold gleam like slender blades.

Lawrence remained silent, which made the Plague Doctor feel a bit bored. He really wanted to see Lawrence’s expression at this moment.

A madman on his last legs being understood by others, how ironic that must be for Lawrence. Under the mask, who knows if his face had twisted with humiliation and rage.

”Quite interesting, Lawrence!”

The Plague Doctor twisted hard, breaking the Nail Sword, leaving part of it within him. His sharp claws slashed at Lawrence, forcing him to swiftly dodge in another direction, crouching low to avoid the slash, but still a bit too slow. The claws tore open Lawrence’s back, leaving a long, bloody trail.

Blood spurted, flesh ripped.

Before leaving the Plague Doctor’s range of attack, Lawrence forcefully kicked the broken Nail Sword, making it pierce through the Plague Doctor’s body again. The follow-through of the kick struck heavily on the Plague Doctor’s chest, where a soft cracking sound of bones could be heard. Before he could continue to pursue Lawrence, he was repelled by the blow, crashing heavily into the stair railings.

Metal bent, the Plague Doctor slumped on it, the Broken Sword protruding from his back trembling slightly before being squeezed out of his body by twisted flesh, falling into the darkness below with only a crisp collision sound reaching back, before nothing remained.

”Compared to me, Plague Doctor, you’re the one who’s truly enigmatic, come to think of it, from beginning to end I haven’t had a clue what kind of face lies under your mask. It can be said that, aside from your name, I know nothing about you.”

Lawrence spoke calmly, holding a Broken Sword, yet still exuding a chilling intimidation, making the Plague Doctor not dare to act rashly.

That’s the kind of person he is, possessing suffocating strength. Even now, with Lawrence having lost his limbs, blinded, lying in a pool of blood on the verge of death, he remains formidable. As soon as you’re slightly careless, he’ll struggle to bite your throat out.

”Ah? Now, nearing the end, you want to get to know each other? Isn’t it a bit too late for that?”

The Plague Doctor’s tone was relaxed; he rarely showed a flustered side, with only memories of awkwardness when facing the mysterious Silencer.

”What do you wish to know, then? I’ll truthfully tell all, as long as you let me go, Lawrence. After all, the Truth is truly enticing. I can hear the call from the north, scratching at my lungs, yearning for my arrival.”

Though his demeanor was relaxed, from the Plague Doctor’s heavy breathing, it was apparent that it wasn’t truly so.

He leaned against the railing, contemplating a strategy, the surface of his body showing rhythmic swells like waves. The sharp claws piercing through his hand were slowly retracting, finally resembling short swords.

Opposite the Plague Doctor, Lawrence made no rash moves. For him, dealing with the Plague Doctor was easy. By using Authority―Gabriel, he could directly attack the Plague Doctor on a mental level.

This is an extraordinary power, one not meant to exist in this world. The more Lawrence understood this power’s nature and its price, the clearer it became why that guy named Adren Levien hid this power, sealing it within the corners of Revelation.

”Are you thinking of invading my [Gap]?”

The Plague Doctor realized this as well, feeling uneasy. Once Lawrence destroyed his [Gap], he would surely die, and the secrets and past he hid would be exposed to Lawrence without a shred of concealment.

This ability really defies reason; no matter how supreme your martial prowess as a Plague Doctor, there isn’t much room to maneuver.

”Yes, I’m really curious about what kind of [Gap] a guy like you would possess,”

Lawrence said, walking slowly towards the Plague Doctor with the Broken Sword in hand.

”Dark, bright, warm, desolate... which scene in your life would be so profound, profound enough to become your [Gap]?”

”Ah... let me think, I’m having trouble coming up with one. Sometimes I’m not even sure if I’m still myself... at least humans don’t end up like me.”

The Plague Doctor raised his claws; sharp, hard prongs jutted from his fingernails, seemingly directly connected to his finger bones. In the dimness, the blurred flesh could be seen, not covered by skin, but exposing the scarlet muscles. It’s unfathomable what lies hidden beneath his garb.