Gun of Ashes

No one ever thought Old Dunling would be caught in such brutal weather, as if it were an apocalyptic celebration.

[Have you found Roger?]

Galahad’s voice sounded, inquiring.

Thanks to the power of the [Gap], Galahad’s voice was very clear.

”Not yet, but he will appear soon,” Watson said, ”I know where his target is.”

”We just need to wait for him there; he will definitely go there.”

[What about Edron?]

Galahad expressed concern, for Roger wasn’t the only monster lurking in the city; there was another evil anomaly named Edron.

It seemed that all this chaos was merely Roger’s doing, hard to imagine what crisis the city would face when both were simultaneously unleashed.

”I don’t know; he’s hidden well, but I think he will appear along with Roger, as he should; he won’t miss this opportunity.”

Watson thought for a moment and responded.

[Alright, I understand.]

Galahad’s voice disappeared from Watson’s mind as Watson continued to overlook the city under the storm, spreading his hands as if trying to grasp it firmly.

...

Galahad was dressed in a raincoat, mingling with the panicked crowd, running through the streets.

Here, he could feel the fear akin to judgment day, with the water underfoot nearly reaching his knees, and the buildings around him packed with people, all running incessantly, seeking the next place of refuge.

The sound of neighing horses and policemen blowing whistles, yet the noise was easily drowned out by chaotic screams, gradually slipping out of their control.

Galahad felt a headache, probably a side effect of using the [Gap] for communication, holding the Holy Silver Crown, wondering whether to put it on.

”So when should we surface? Isn’t it time yet?”

Galahad muttered to himself, soon a response echoed in his mind.

[The timing is not right.]

”Then what are you waiting for?”

Galahad questioned, as the Geiger index of the entire city soared, soon to erupt into a demon tide, encompassing the whole city, forcing them to run for their lives.

[Waiting for the moment to pull the trigger.]

”What trigger?”

[You’ll know, but not now.]

Galahad took a deep breath; only Watson knew the full scope of the Mechanical Deity; she truly was the ”outsider” beyond the story.

Understanding everything, Galahad chose not to question further, simply responded.

”I will act according to the plan, and then... I will remain silent.”

A few seconds later, a calm voice came.

[Wish you triumph, Galahad.]

With a dispassionate face, Galahad showed a faint smile, then plunged into utter coldness, donning the Holy Silver Crown, eradicating the chaotic voices from his mind, leaving only absolute silence.

He walked deeper into the rain.

In Watson’s vision, columns of light extinguished one by one as they all donned the Holy Silver Crown, severing contact with Watson, while more columns of light slowly moved.

This scene lasted for a long time, until a sudden shocking red appeared, so abrupt and full of ominous foreboding.

”It’s here.”

Watson whispered.

People huddled inside buildings, shivering under the cold chill, adults complaining about the damn weather, children frightened to tears by the terrifying anomaly, mothers soothing them with peaceful tales of fairy tales while fathers braced doors and windows against the blasting wind.

Everything seemed so bad until at one moment, everyone felt a beating inside their minds, something screaming deep within their souls, emitting a piercing wail.

Adults felt fear and confusion at this sudden heart palpitation, while children began crying loudly, perhaps due to their youthful age, they often saw bizarre things.

Disordered hallucinations flickered before their eyes, faces meant to exist only in nightmares manifested into reality.

Amidst the panic, someone saw it.

It was a child, sitting on the ground, pallid like the dead, raising a finger to point outside the window.

The adults followed the child’s finger, and with a flash of lightning, they saw it.

Outside the window, amidst the rain and fog, something advanced through the torrent, its silhouette grotesque against the backdrop of lightning, like some monster from legends.

A hallucination? Or something else?

No one would think it a monster, after all, monsters don’t exist in this world.

Yes, this is a world of common sense, devoid of so-called monsters.

No... so-called, monsters.

The adults affirmed this, yet as the glass shattered, so did their understanding of this world.

Cold wind carried with it cold rain into the room, within the biting cold, everyone smelled that heavy scent of blood, behind the shattered window, the creature seemed to smile, opening its gaping maw, filled with densely packed teeth, sprawling throughout its oral cavity, extending into its throat.

Fear, the most primitive and strongest emotion of mankind, erupted between everyone’s hearts at this moment, following brief silence, wailing began.

People crowded in panic, attempting to flee to higher floors, while others glared fiercely, throwing tables and chairs at the monster, attempting to block its advance.

But it was all futile, a pair of powerful arms reached inside, bearing claws sharp enough to cleave steel, with wavering tendrils, emitting a sharp cry like a child’s sobbing.

Some cried, some prayed, some gave up resisting, while others fought for a shred of opportunity to survive.

The demon roared, lunging at the crowd, its claws landing would spiral into a bloodstorm, yet as soon as it soared, it paused mid-air, then as if abruptly yanked by something, got thrown back into the rain and fog outside.

The rain outside was too heavy, visible range merely three to four meters, people could only hear the wailing within the rain and fog, shadows swirling amidst, soon a thunderous noise arose, seemingly gunfire.

Blood splattered, tainting the rainwater murky, then more gunfire sounded, accompanied by chaotic flames.

People tightly embraced each other, calming their fear, hearing more wailing, witnessing more grotesque figures sprinting within the rain and fog.

Likewise, another group of unrecognizable figures charged into the rain and fog, seemingly engaged in slaughter.

”Don’t be afraid.”

Mother comforted the child though she shook uncontrollably herself.

Gazing into the rain and fog, seemingly a bloody war erupted there, but they couldn’t see clearly, the woman felt an extremely peculiar emotion.

They were so near to the evil anomaly, only separated by the rain and fog, yet so far, seemingly worlds apart.

Soon, outside only the sound of the tempest remained, seemingly everything had ended, a brave man approached the damaged window, seeing the blood stains on the window ledge, gathering courage, he leaned out.

Old Dunling’s streets had become crowded, somewhere along the line, iron-clad figures had emerged throughout, Peacekeepers crushing the demon’s skulls underfoot, wielding weapons, marching onward, the downpour rinsing their armor, washing away bloodstains, leaving only a series of fatal scratches.

At crucial paths stood sturdier figures, Ghostly Floating Massacre commanded this area, under the rain, they appeared cold as the Death God, harvesting demon lives.

The man saw it, retreating unsteadily indoors, muttering.

”The march.”

”What?”

People around asked, not understanding what he meant, though no one dared venture through the rain and fog.

The man’s gaze was terrified, voice hoarse as he said.

”The march... to crush the demon.”