Gun of Ashes

”Bl... Black Angel?”

Blue Jade stared at the figure within the sea of fire in disbelief; under the reflection of the flames, the Black Angel’s scale armor was clearly visible.

When had Lorenzo come back, and when had the Black Angel left the Morning Glow Advance?

Without the slightest warning, it had appeared there so abruptly, launching an assault at this critical moment.

All kinds of questions welled up in her heart, but no one came to answer them, until the sound of metal rupturing rang out again, snapping Blue Jade’s consciousness back.

A scorching stream of fire swept across the deck, covering Blue Jade’s flank and driving away the Demons trying to close in, while Blue Jade dragged her only remaining arm, whipping up her blade and slamming it down hard.

Perhaps this was the downside of mass production—the overall structural strength of the Third Generation Armor was far inferior to the First Generation Armor. It lacked the tough, regenerative Demon flesh as connective and buffering tissue; struck head-on by shells, its intricate metal mechanisms were rapidly shattering. Even with the protection of the External Armor, it was hard to cushion the shock transmitted inside.

Blood flowed along the gaps, mixing with the leaking oil; steam constantly jetted from the damaged sections. Fortunately the engine was still turning, and Blue Jade could still move.

”Hold Ascalon!”

Bola shouted loudly. The Weapon Master was walking toward Blue Jade’s position; relying on partial Demon flesh, the Second Generation Armor was far stronger than the Third Generation Armor, and such ferocious combat had only left the Weapon Master with a lot of scratches.

Gunfire of counterattack rang on and on. The Soldiers, as if seeing hope, increased their firepower, suppressing the Demons that had climbed onto the deck. The broadsides kept firing; some even picked up harpoons to stab at the Demons trying to climb up along the gunports.

After so many days of living and fighting together, everyone knew very well what that white flame and that grim figure represented. Though his behavior sometimes was like that of a moron, it was undeniable that in a situation like this, he was always the most reliable specialist.

Like a dim beam of light.

In absolute darkness, a flame on the verge of dying, yet still burning and flickering. It shed that faint light, so that those hiding in the dark no longer felt fear, drawing people toward it, and also calling the Evil Ghosts toward it.

The burning of the white flame was like a bursting signal flare; the Morning Glow Advance launched its counterattack.

The steam whistle screamed high, the boilers burned madly, sending billows of steam into the sky. The Morning Glow Advance was like a steel behemoth come to life, exhaling scorching white vapor and whipping up towering waves across the sea.

Under Notar’s steering, the Morning Glow Advance finally sailed clear of that field of twisted steel wreckage. Now all it had to do was keep accelerating and get out of here.

The gale rushed at them head-on, carrying a biting chill.

This acceleration was not dramatic, but over time it would slowly open the distance. The Iron Armor ships tried to give chase, but now there was someone far more troublesome than the Morning Glow Advance rampaging on their decks.

Amid the raging firelight, the Black Angel strode forward, and this time its posture was steeped in ill omen.

Every Warrior could feel that pressure as hard as iron stone, bearing down on them until they could scarcely breathe. Some Warriors who got too close to the Black Angel simply blacked out on the spot; they lay calmly in the sea of fire, letting the flames sear their bodies until they turned to ash.

Demon flesh wantonly proliferated. This time, it even broke through the constraints of the Armor, directly covering the plating; crimson flesh writhed and tangled, as one hardened, razor-sharp Iron Feather after another sprouted, densely draping its body.

The roar of cannons sounded; a heavy shot slammed directly into the Black Angel. This time the Black Angel had no intention of dodging, taking the blow head-on with its body. Its frame twisted slightly, but was quickly corrected by the burgeoning flesh; tough muscle yanked at the metal, shedding the shattered Iron Feathers.

It bent low, crouching like a beast, its back bristling with embedded blades that rose and fell faintly with its breathing.

A shrill keening, like an infant’s cry, rang out. Everything happened too fast—the hunched figure sprang in an instant, traversing the burning deck in a single bound, trailing flames and blades, shredding and incinerating everything in its path.

The Warriors attacked with expressionless faces. Some were crushed by the suffocating corrosion before they could even get close to the Black Angel; some showed faint signs of Demonization as they fell, but the fire devoured them moments later.

Zeus watched all of this in silence. Darkness hid the full outline of his body; only one bloodshot eye was lit by the light seeping through the cracks.

He remembered that figure in the sea of fire. Ever since he was rescued by the Plague Doctor, he saw that figure every time he slept—it stood in the blazing flames, destroying Zeus’s world, giving him his deepest despair and humiliation.

Heavy, ragged breathing sounded. Whether from fear or excitement, Zeus began to tremble slightly; the savage silhouette in the dark shook along with him.

A grotesquely warped hand pressed against the gap. All Zeus had to do was exert force and he could tear it open, break out of this dark cage—but he suddenly stopped, suppressing the ecstasy and craving in his heart.

”No... not yet. Odin, please wait a few more days for me.”

Zeus forced down the restlessness within, talking himself down over and over, and slowly backed away until the darkness swallowed him completely.