Gun of Ashes

Fatigue, soreness, drowsiness.

Bola was probably too exhausted. The moment he collapsed onto the bed, his tense muscles relaxed, and his highly concentrated thoughts were released. Bola easily slipped into a deep sleep, lying on the bed as if he were a corpse.

Normally, Bola would enjoy a comfortable sleep and wake up a few hours later feeling reborn. Unfortunately, this time, the environment was different when Bola fell asleep. He was already in the Silent Sea, an invisible erosion constantly lingering around him, and even in sleep, he was not spared from it.

Invisible hands gently rubbed Bola’s head, adding a layer of hatred to this peaceful dreamscape, burning away the beauty and leaving only a menacing gray and white.

Sweat beaded densely on his forehead, Bola’s breathing growing heavy, and his limbs slightly twitching, as if he were facing some formidable foe within the dream.

The sound of rushing water echoed from a distance, followed by the metallic clangor. Initially, they seemed far away, but the sounds sharpened and clarified as if drawing closer to Bola.

Bola found it irritating; these things disturbed his sleep, yet he had no idea where they came from. He chose not to pay attention to them and continued lying down honestly, trying to sink deeper into his dream.

”Wake up! Bola!”

Someone spoke near his ear, but Bola couldn’t make out what they were saying. He covered his ears, changed positions, and continued to sleep.

Yet the voice persisted, continuing to echo around Bola, reverberating repeatedly.

”Bola! Bola!”

The person kept calling out until their patience wore thin, shouting angrily.

”Wake up! Bola!”

Bola awoke abruptly, feeling a tremendous force as someone yanked him up. His eyes opened to a vision filled with storm and lightning. The cold, drenching rain struck his face, dispelling his drowsiness, and the pain coursing through his body intensified it further.

”Bola! Hang in there!”

A familiar face shouted angrily at him. As Bola looked over, he saw rain cascading down his face, as if in tears.

”Lan... Lancelot?”

Bola uttered his name, sensing something amiss but unable to pinpoint what. Like a puppet, he was controlled by Lancelot, forced to stand up, a weapon thrust into his hand.

”Hold on, we can get out!”

Lancelot spoke again, his voice trembling, yet still strong, as if trying to convince himself of it.

Bola glanced elsewhere, and a look of terror replaced the drowsiness on his face.

He was aboard a massive ship, a ship emerging from the depths of his memory.

The Horned Whale powered ahead at full throttle, cutting through sea and ice, while crushing all the demons howling in the waters. Corpses and severed limbs flung with the waves, blood painting the sea, converging into swirling black mist as it surged forward, unstoppable, along the path from the sky.

A route appeared, a brilliant aurora spanning the sky and sea. It was so bright that even the roaring storm couldn’t block its light. It pointed the way, guiding the Horned Whale to escape this sea.

”Accelerate! That damn thing is catching up!”

Another voice rang out, wielding a hand axe, effortlessly severing a demon’s head before kicking the headless body into the sea.

Clad in armor and animal hides, he seemed bulky yet moved swiftly, drawing a silver-white revolver and firing at another demon climbing onto the deck. The gunshot cracked with the thunder, shattering the demon’s head into a bloody mist, then dropping into the boiling sea below.

”Damn it!”

Seeing Froki, forgotten memories surged back to Bola. He immediately raised his gun, wanting to shoot Froki dead, but was stopped by Lancelot.

”We still need him.”

Lancelot told Bola, his face pale, one hand clutching his waist, the other dragging a weapon.

”But that bastard!” Bola shouted.

”At least for now, he’s useful!” Lancelot said to Bola, covering a gunshot wound on his waist. ”We need him to lead us out of the Silent Sea right now!”

”But... but...”

Seeing Lancelot like this, Bola momentarily didn’t know what to say. That bastard Froki had shot Lancelot, and if it weren’t for the present chaos, they might all be dead, and the Horned Whale seized by Froki.

”Only the living can seek revenge. Once dead, there’s nothing left.”

Lancelot whispered to Bola, the gunshot causing him blood loss and leaving him with little strength. If not for the dire situation, Lancelot might have succumbed to the exhaustion pulling at him.

”I... I understand.”

Seeing this, Bola could only suppress his hatred, holding his weapon tightly, covering Lancelot’s advance.

They and Froki had become enemies, but in the face of the threat from the Silent Sea, they had no choice but to unite.

”Ship’s doctor!”

Bola shouted, and the ship’s doctor heard the call, rushing into the pouring rain with a medical kit. In a sheltered shadow, they provided Lancelot with rudimentary treatment, while Bola continuously fired, killing the demons attempting to approach.