Gun of Ashes

In the viscous, profound darkness, Morning Glow Advance moved forward in solitude.

Under the unbearably long darkness, everyone present here was subjected to trials and torment. Some could not remain strong, succumbing to the abyss, while others were driven to madness by rage, roaring as they destroyed all their enemies.

Blue Jade anxiously leaned to one side, making way for Bola’s trajectory. Bullets swept past, igniting explosions of fire. Metal clashed, inch by inch destroying the Demon’s body until it became a viscous mixture of shredded flesh and foul blood, evenly spread across the floor.

Witnessing this hell of flesh and blood, Bola reloaded and fired again, repeatedly pulling the trigger as the resounding bell chimes overlapped, robbing everyone of their hearing.

Even so, the Demons did not retreat. They were clad in uniforms Bola was familiar with, wearing faces he had seen, which quickly twisted into abhorrent expressions and bared fangs. Their mutated limbs scraped against the doorframe, pushing and shoving to climb into the chamber.

Bola reloaded once more; the caliber of the Funeral Bell was substantial, added with specialized ammunition, each shot effortlessly penetrated all obstacles, forcing the Demons to retreat continually.

This granted the two a slight reprieve, though not much. With each retreat, the Demons advanced further, stepping over shattered corpses like bloated meatballs, trying to squeeze into the cramped room.

”Folding Blade!”

Bola shouted, and Blue Jade immediately tossed the Folding Blade to him. Although it was notched all over, as long as it could still slash, it remained a weapon.

One hand lifted the Funeral Bell, while the other grasped the Folding Blade.

Bola strode forward, firing as he swung the Folding Blade, viciously severing the arms attempting to enter the room.

The arms swinging fiercely were like wildly dancing seaweed, falling one by one under the sharp strikes, revealing pallid bones that mixed with the filth on the floor.

Blue Jade watched Bola’s ghostly figure, a stance she had never seen before.

The low growls slowly emerged amidst the strikes of the Folding Blade, as Bola gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath, swallowing the putrid stench of blood along with the air, raising strikes capable of breaking Steel.

Bola was somewhat like Lorenzo; he had lost once, completely defeated. Since then, Bola abandoned all foolish notions, following Arthur’s arrangements, becoming the Emperor of the Lower City District, bidding farewell to the beautiful light.

No righteousness or morality remained, only the unrelenting pursuit of goals regardless of cost.

”I won’t lose again, Lorenzo.”

Recalling the words Lorenzo had said to him, Bola glared angrily, veins bulging with blue blood across his eyes, gripping the trigger tightly.

”At least not here.”

The Funeral Bell fired once more, piercing the Demon’s body like a penetrating sword, amid the outpour of blood, as Bola advanced again, bracing his shoulder against the battered and twisted cabin door.

Under Bola’s fire and the Demons’ gnawing, the door was riddled with holes. As Bola braced against the warped steel, blood continuously oozed from the bullet holes, due to the squeezing and struggling.

”Bola!”

Blue Jade exclaimed, as from her angle, Bola seemed to plunge into this sea of blood and flesh, where countless claws and sharp teeth swayed around him, as if he would be torn to pieces in the next second.

”Follow me, Blue Jade.”

Bola shouted loudly, bracing against the twisted steel.

In this seaweed swirling frenzy, Bola did not die. The shattered cabin door served as a shield, separating Bola from the Demons.

But this did not signify safety for Bola, as only a few millimeters of steel separated him from the Death God, and now this steel was twisted and damaged, blocking much of Bola’s body, yet some claws maneuvered through previous breaches, injuring Bola’s limbs, some even piercing directly into his thigh.

The foul stench of blood assaulted his senses. Through the gaps, Bola could see the Demons’ faces, their barbed mouths split open, dripping with viscous fluid, long tongues greedy for living flesh.

”I... I can still manage once.”

Strained by mustering strength, Bola’s voice was somewhat intermittent.

The Folding Blade ascended and plunged down, stabilizing like a handle inserted into the door panel, then Bola exerted his strength as if unfeeling of pain, even as claws pierced his thigh; he continued striding, each step forward was minuscule, yet through repeated struggling attempts, this minuscule distance became seemingly insurmountable.

Advance.

Relentlessly advance.

Blue Jade watched all of this astonished, as Bola continued to push forward slowly, bracing against the door panel, stepping over bodies and filth, unbelievably pushing the Demons behind the door, slowly forcing them out of the chamber.

The Demons went mad from the squeeze, intensifying their attack intentions; several arms already stretched over the door panel, tearing Bola’s clothes viciously, leaving crimson scars upon a mortal’s body.

Yet the mortal did not stop.

Bola pushed with all his might against the door panel, only the Funeral Bell could sporadically fire. But due to limited ammunition and being unable to reload, each bullet was extremely precious. More importantly, these attacks came from behind Bola, as he was enveloped by the sea of blood and flesh, rendering him powerless to defend.