Gun of Ashes

Rather than calling it a medical bay, it would be more accurate to call it a medical zone. After all, this was a vessel that fought Demons and explored the unknown Silent Sea. A large section of the Morning Glow Advance belonged to this medical zone, staffed by doctors from Black Mountain Hospital.

Beneath it were the storerooms for the Perpetual Motion Pump and the armory, and scattered all around the Morning Glow Advance were the Soldiers of the Purification Mechanism. This was an operation of internal unity and cooperation; every ounce of strength had been mobilized.

Corpses and blood were everywhere by the main doors. Besides the Soldiers on guard, there were others cleaning up the Demons’ bodies.

They tore the identity tags from the Demons’ bodies and dragged those corpses toward the other end of the corridor, where there was a massive breach—blasted open by artillery during the sea battle. From there one could see straight out into the pitch-black Silent Sea. They threw the Demons’ corpses into the water; apart from the splash as the bodies fell, in the silent night there was no other sound.

There ought to have been a funeral here, but there was nothing—only mechanical labor. Everyone’s eyes were bloodshot, their hands clenched tight around their weapons.

”Doctor!”

Hebdo shouted as he dumped Bola on the floor. The beds were all taken; this was the best he could do for now. As for Blue Jade, she was in no danger of dying for the moment anyway. She sat obediently to one side, picked up a few bandages, and rewrapped the wounds that had split open again.

Some of the doctors recognized Bola. As one of the leaders of this operation, his life was clearly of higher priority. A few doctors immediately freed their hands amid the rush and hurried over to Bola’s side to tend to his wounds.

Nothing else mattered for the moment. First they gave him a shot of Florun Potion to keep him conscious, then they cut open his clothes with scissors and did a simple suturing of his wounds.

In an environment shrouded by Corruption, clarity of mind became vitally important. There were no means of anesthesia here—only repeated injections of Florun Potion to ensure that Bola’s consciousness remained awake.

It wasn’t just Bola; everyone receiving treatment was like this. The doctors gave no anesthetic at all and went straight to work on the injuries.

Hebdo felt a bit at a loss. It wasn’t that he had never seen gruesome scenes before, but compared to what was here, everything he had witnessed in the past seemed somewhat pale.

Whether it was powerful enemies or Demons, those were pressures and terrors that came from outside. But here, Hebdo could clearly feel a despair and mourning so dense it was almost solid.

The frailty of human beings was laid bare without reservation. Yet at the same time, human stubbornness also revealed itself here: no matter how much it hurt, they would grit their teeth and keep on living.

The patients’ screams rose and fell, their voices overlapping. Some bit down hard on towels to stifle the sharp, clear pain; some had faces flushed red, forcing themselves to breathe.

The patients weren’t the only ones under enormous pressure; the doctors were little better. Hebdo could hear the rasp of a saw. Behind a white curtain, the doctors seemed to be cutting something—bone fragments and shreds of flesh flying, blood spraying and in an instant turning the white fabric entirely red.

Hebdo heard a muffled moan. He didn’t know what the patient was going through, but he could see the curtain shaking violently. After a while it finally stilled. A doctor came out, his whole body spattered with blood and reeking faintly of urine, a mangled severed limb in his hands. Hebdo did not dare to keep watching.

”Bola...”

Hebdo had just opened his mouth when he saw Bola’s utterly calm face.

Bola was lying on the floor, with only a thin mattress beneath him. Doctors crouched around him, stitching his wounds. From Hebdo’s angle he could clearly see the flesh that had been cut open, the metal forceps rummaging for fragments inside. He could even see the blood vessels beneath the membranes, blood surging through them.

The human body, laid bare and disassembled like a machine.

Hebdo felt his stomach heave; he almost threw up, but managed to hold it down in the end.

Blue Jade was leaning against a wall nearby as well. She did not quite dare look at this scene. They had already ventured deep into the Silent Sea; countless dangers lurked within the hull. They had no reinforcements and no way back. All they could do was sail on toward the end of the darkness.

”You should go on patrol, Hebdo.”

Bola spoke with difficulty. It was as if he couldn’t feel pain at all; no trace of emotion showed on his face.

Logically, after the injection of Florun Potion, Bola’s mind should have been razor sharp. Every twinge of pain would be transmitted to him with unbearable clarity. He ought to have been like the other patients—howling and thrashing.

But now Bola showed no emotional reaction at all. He silently endured everything, and that calm demeanor only made Hebdo more horrified.

He swallowed and then said,

”I understand. I’ll go tell Lorenzo what’s happening.”

”Take this to him,” Bola added.

He couldn’t move, but Blue Jade seemed to know what he meant. She slowly got to her feet, came to his side, picked up the Revolver soaked in blood, and handed it to Hebdo.

”He’ll need it.”

Bola instructed him.

With injuries like his, even if he survived and was dragged back from the brink, Bola didn’t believe he could contribute much more to this operation.

Every person was a piece of firewood, waiting to burn in the right place, giving off light to pierce the darkness.

Bola had thought he would burn at some more critical juncture—whether to burn an enemy to death or to burn himself, at least to let this lingering soul of his display some greater value.

[How do you test a person’s worth.]

[Make him face death.]

[Watch the choice he makes.]

Bola glanced to one side. Blue Jade, covered in blood from head to toe, was standing there. After handing Funeral Bell to Hebdo, she had gone back to winding bandages around herself, binding them even tighter, then waited for some doctor with free hands to come and have a look at her.

He had not brought about any great change, nor reversed any collapsing battlefield. In the end, all Bola had managed to do was save Blue Jade—save a single person, nothing more.

But that was enough.

Hebdo wiped the blood from Funeral Bell until its original silvery sheen emerged. The Ghost God engraved on the cylinder was still clearly visible.

He hesitated a little. After this long together, Hebdo had realized that Bola was a bit of a fetishist; he was never separated from this gun. Yet this time, he was having it passed on to Lorenzo.

Had he suddenly reached Enlightenment in the face of life and death? Realized that guns and the like were just external things?

Hebdo couldn’t make sense of it, and he didn’t bother asking. Picking up his Aluminothermic Rifle, he led a few Soldiers out of the medical bay.

The heavy doors behind them slowly shut. In the dim cabin, gunfire and screams still rang without pause. Outside the portholes was a clotted darkness, as if the entire Morning Glow Advance had entered a nightmare with no end.

Thinking this, Hebdo suddenly halted. An icy chill spread from his spine out through all his limbs and meridians until his body locked up like a statue, hard to move.

”What... is it?”

The eerie sensation felt strangely familiar to Hebdo. He looked at the Soldiers following him, and from their somewhat stunned expressions he knew they were feeling the same thing.

Then a familiar voice boomed in their minds, just like back at Maruri harbor—Lorenzo shouting inside everyone’s head.

[Everyone! Enemy attack, prepare for battle!]

The moment the voice fell, the entire hull shuddered violently. Hebdo rushed to the porthole and saw it.

It wasn’t the Morning Glow Advance that was roiling, but the entire sea. The Silent Sea was boiling and surging, just like in Bola’s memories. Then, in that pitch-black world, brilliant pillars of light rose at the horizon of the sea. They skimmed along above the waters, then fell toward the far shore.

Hebdo pressed his face against the glass, endless radiance reflected in his eyes.

The black world was completely shattered by that soaring light. As the night collapsed, Hebdo saw the great ships appearing farther off in the distance. The rising light had exposed their positions, and now they were heading straight for the Morning Glow Advance.

And behind those great ships, a storm laden with wind, rain, and lightning advanced slowly, like an iron curtain of despair.