Gun of Ashes

”The four of them walked into the vast snowy wasteland like this, never to return.”

Someone whispered, recounting this nearly forgotten story.

”As for the large ship named Morning Glow Advance, it too failed to sail away from the Silent Sea. Like many other ships that ventured in, it remained here permanently. The cold exhausted its resources, and the oppression drove the people within to madness.

They also tried to return, but the low temperatures froze their path, completely trapping them on the ice, unable to move.

Thus, this grand voyage ended in such a despairing conclusion.”

He struggled to move his legs, standing from a high place, where the view was excellent. The sunlight bathed the white snow, brilliance flowing everywhere, leaving shadows with nowhere to hide.

The man sighed deeply and continued speaking.

”Just like the countless failures of those before them, they too did not succeed. They made such great sacrifices and efforts, but in the end, nothing changed.

The world stepped into a new cycle along its destined path, wars and deaths persisted, new cities were built on shattered ruins, humanity entered the next era, patiently awaiting the opening of another cycle.

As for...

As for their story...”

The man thought for a moment, seated himself cross-legged, and began scribbling on parchment, continuing to mutter.

”Their story has long been forgotten, like many more forgotten tales. They were just insignificant members, easily forgotten, covered in dust, as if they never existed.”

The man finished the story, his eyes beneath the eyepatch carrying a hint of sadness, still gazing into the distance. Soon, footsteps approached, accompanied by cursing.

”Are we not dead yet? What are you muttering about?”

Lorenzo approached Froki, who had been muttering some enigmatic words ever since, which sounded like the conclusion of this journey.

”Our end, I’m wondering how people will sing of us after our defeat.”

Froki put away the parchment and replied.

”You look like a frustrated Minstrel.” The Plague Doctor also caught up, glanced at Froki, and headed forward.

”I suppose I do count as a Minstrel. Every time I set sail, I bring one along. If I die, I’d have them sing the story... although most of the time, I’m the one who survives.”

Froki recalled the past, ”So I became my own Minstrel.”

”I think you might need a dose of Florun Potion to clear your head.”

Lorenzo said as he struggled forward. Hardly anyone had been here for centuries, and the snow was so thick that each step almost reached Lorenzo’s knees, making his progress extremely difficult.

”No, I’m quite clear-headed,” Froki thought of something and then asked, ”Holmes, have you never considered your own end?”

He followed behind Lorenzo and the Plague Doctor. Compared to the two, Froki seemed somewhat weaker in physical strength, maintaining a slower speed to conserve energy.

”We come into this world, and the moment we breathe, our life enters a countdown. You could say our life is destined for death, but death is too harsh and too cold a thing.”

Froki truly resembled a Minstrel at this moment, the kind about to meet their end, his mind full of personal sentiments and strange philosophies.

”So, once I realized this, I hoped my death would carry some value...”

”Do you think this is a good place to rest in peace? You and the Plague Doctor think quite similarly.” Lorenzo said.

”It’s indeed quite nice here. I’ve lived for centuries. The prolonged lifespan makes many things seem meaningless, and life starts to feel dull.” The Plague Doctor intervened.

”So you created some strange Demons for amusement?”

Listening to the Plague Doctor, Lorenzo felt a surge of anger.

The Plague Doctor had caused him tremendous trouble in the past, with many lives lost because of him. Yet, the reason behind all this seemed to be the mere boredom of this man.

”Not exactly, but close. When this world can no longer satisfy you, what you need is something beyond this world... like Truth.”

The Plague Doctor showed no sign of remorse. To him, these were just necessary sacrifices in the pursuit of Truth.

He seemed to notice Lorenzo’s expression and added with deep meanings.

”Remember what I told you before? Holmo, God, and humanity.”

”Do you think you are God? So killing humans bears no weight on you?” Lorenzo asked.

”Pretty much, but I’m not quite a God. I’m just something in between God and man... I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I guess it won’t be long before I understand everything.”

The Plague Doctor looked at the tall figure behind him, the Black Angel carrying supplies at the very back.

Watson didn’t say much, maintaining silence after landing, her steps steady, each rise and fall causing a slight tremor.

”Moreover, Holmo, you still have that one called Watson. In reality, we are all of the same kind - no longer mere mortals, but rather Pseudo-Gods on the path of Ascension. The reason you still feel sorrow for humanity is due to the many shackles on you. Once you free yourself from them one by one, you might come to conclusions similar to mine.”

The eyes under the mask flickered between Lorenzo and Watson, with a tinge of amusement in the Plague Doctor’s voice.