Gun of Ashes

Just like witnessing countless sunrises, before the first light of dawn, the mornings in Old Dunling are always so cold, as if in a deathly silent world, devoid of any vitality. Everyone is lying in the shadows, slowly decaying with the passage of time.

Lorenzo sat on the familiar sofa, surrounded by piles of old clothes stacked as high as small hills.

He seemed as if he was about to attend a serious meeting. This time he was dressed very neatly, his clothes already on, with his cane and coat placed beside him. However, possibly because the time had not yet come, Lorenzo sat quietly, listening to the radio broadcast.

The city remained silent. In fact, it had long been awake, or one could say it never slept. Invisible to the eye, workers moved through the hidden corners, and voices continued constantly on the radio.

Lorenzo tilted his head, closing his eyes in contemplation.

In the desolate room, the sound echoed.

”With the situation becoming more severe, Gaulunaro and Ingwig have both invested a large amount of military forces in the White Tide Strait, conducting demonstration exercises. The good news is, both sides are still restrained enough, with no direct conflict yet. The bad news is, such restraint won’t last long as they are already poised for battle.

The Viking countries continue to denounce Gaulunaro, wanting them to pay the price for the death of Ivar Rodbrock. According to reports, a large fleet from the Viking countries is already sailing from the north, and within a few days, they will reach the sea of Ingwig and join forces with the main Ingwig military.”

Listening to the news, Lorenzo envisioned a disastrous scene in his mind.

He was still somewhat too late and also helpless; after all, just one person is hard to shake a kingdom. Lorenzo could not prevent the onset of war, but what he could do was to intervene in its direction as much as possible.

”The Gaulunaro side has loudly announced the formation of the Rhine Alliance, a union among several countries aimed at jointly resisting Ingwig.

This is a very fitting strategy given the current situation. Once war breaks out and Gaulunaro falls, the gateway to the Rhine Valley will be open, exposing the following countries, whether it’s Leiber or others, completely to Ingwig’s military...”

The jarring steam noise blurred the broadcast, and Lorenzo furrowed his brow.

If nothing unexpected happens, this might be the most terrifying war in the western world in nearly a century. From north to south, whether it’s the Ingwig union or the so-called Rhine Alliance, this war has drawn in everyone in the western world.

Lorenzo didn’t like this. War would bring about vast casualties, piles of corpses, countless shattered families, create maniacs driven mad, and in the shadows, breed darkness...

”However, what is bizarre is that there’s no response from the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom, as if they haven’t realized the approaching war. Not a word comes from the Seven Hills, and the new Pope hasn’t appeared in public for a long time.”

These words from the radio slightly caught Lorenzo’s attention.

The Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom wasn’t important. After the old Order disappeared on the Night of the Holy Arrival, they could no longer stop the advent of the new era. These entities emitting an aura of decay would eventually be completely forgotten.

The Evangelical Church had lost its ability to influence the world. In this world-engulfing war, they had no voice at all. But compared to these, what truly concerned Lorenzo was the Static Holy Temple.

Sometimes, Lorenzo always felt that even though the Night of the Holy Arrival had ended, it was still the most terrifying place in the world.

It witnessed the brilliance of humanity and also its basest traits. It was the start of the Demon Hunting Order and also its end.

Countless dark and filthy secrets, greed and cunning, the evil of humanity were fully displayed here.

For Lorenzo, its significance was even more extraordinary.

You could say that the story of Lorenzo Holmes began at the Static Holy Temple, yet it’s uncertain whether it will also be the end of Lorenzo Holmes’ story.

Thinking of this...

A sound came from outside the door, very slight, as if someone had dropped something in front of it.

Lorenzo got up and walked to the door, wondering if it was Eve passing by again. With her personality, pulling such pranks could really be something she would do.

Thinking of these, his mood eased a bit. Being alone for too long was indeed somewhat boring.

Pushing open the door, there was no one outside. The street was desolate, an abandoned newspaper lay in the corner, and a cold wind carrying moisture hit him in the face. Lorenzo looked down and then saw the package left at the doorstep.

A package, with the address written as his own location, but not the Winchester Law Firm, instead it was Cork Street 121A, with the recipient’s name as Lorenzo Holmes.

Lorenzo found it odd; who would send him a package? Rarely did anyone even write to him. Then he saw the name, and his expression became serious.

Watson.

The sender’s name was written as such.

Lorenzo never expected the sender to be Watson. He didn’t know how she was doing now, but given that she could send something to him, she was at least still alive.

He tried to find more clues, but the notes didn’t have an address, nor did they reveal from where it was mailed.

Cautiously looking around, Lorenzo took up the package and returned to the house; he checked the time, and there was still enough to do something else first.