Gun of Ashes

“Clear this place.”

A deep voice came from the darkness.

The next moment, more dark shadows began to invade the building. The man holding a knife was killed before he could resist. The commotion woke the people inside. They picked up weapons, preparing for a desperate fight, while others knelt on the ground, crying out loudly.

“The demons are here! They’re here!”

He recounted the terrifying legend.

“The demons kept beneath the Saint Nalos Cathedral!”

With a loud shout, the sound of metal slicing through flesh echoed continuously, blood and gore splattering everywhere, painting every corner of the room.

The Demon Hunters’ swords were swift, expertly slashing throats. They didn’t even have the chance to howl before falling, clutching their gushing necks, dying silently.

“Alright, time to move to the next one.”

Samuel sheathed the Nail Sword, speaking to the other shadows.

This was destined to be a restless, unsettling night, and tonight was just the beginning. As the nightmare descended, believers were driven away. Too many people sought to use dirty means to achieve their own ends amidst the chaos.

Samuel wasn’t actually sure why the new Pope was doing this, but as a Demon Hunter, he still adhered to the guidelines, following orders.

“Let’s go!”

After speaking, he led the Demon Hunters to disappear once more into the night, the slaughter of the night far from over.

In the Holy City, the street candles quietly burned. Possibly due to the lack of believers to maintain them, the flames of the night were noticeably weaker, and the entire city resembled a torch about to extinguish, teetering in the wind.

Among the towering spires, a hiding believer pushed open a window, observing the city.

“The monsters from the Well are about to crawl out.”

Watson’s gaze was heavy. Through the long-distance Gap invasion, she could arrive quickly. After the end of the downpour in Old Dunling, she frequently traveled back and forth between the two places, observing the situation here.

From the information she had gathered so far, things looked grim at the Seven Hills; the Inexpressible had sensed the humans’ intentions. Although forced into slumber, it was still attempting to use dreams to interfere with this world.

The once Holy City might become the final battlefield.

She pondered this but didn’t recklessly venture into the Static Holy Temple. Watson was very aware of her deep level of Ascension, knowing that after Ed and Roger’s deaths, she might be the next to attract the Inexpressible’s gaze.

What to do?

For a moment, Watson couldn’t think of a better way. Carrying the Echo of the End, theoretically, if she directly descended into the Well of Ascension and dealt a fatal blow, she might end it all.

But Watson, as if scared of something, hesitated to move forward.

Was it death?

The aftermath of Wangchuan was enough to impact Ed and Roger, not to mention the even more powerful Echo of the End. The moment she released it, she might also be engulfed by the backlash, destroyed together.

But Watson felt she wasn’t afraid of death. In fact, she had died once before; now she was merely a ghost lingering in the human world.

So what was she afraid of?

Turning into another monster.

Her pupils contracted to a point, her breathing became rapid.

Watson nearly stepped into that trap.

At the time, Ed and Roger were the same. Having obtained the Credentials of Ascension, they attempted to descend into the Well of Ascension to end it all, but in the end, it wasn’t an end they met, but the beginning of a nightmare.

Watson didn’t know what they encountered beneath the Well of Ascension, but as the last hope of humanity, she couldn’t proceed recklessly.

“Have you come for the ‘rehearsal’ too? The final performance.”

An old voice rang out. Watson turned around to see another believer who had unknowingly approached. His figure was obscured by a gray robe, his face indistinguishable.

“Lawrence…”

Watson whispered. The almost overflowing air of Evil Anomaly from the believer made her instantly recognize the presence before her.

Indeed, apart from herself, there was another even more insane and uncontrollable monster in this world—the Dean, Lawrence.

“It’s been a while since I physically came here. Depending on these shells always feels a bit unreal.”

Lawrence gazed out the window, muttering to himself.

“What do you intend to do?”

Watson was extremely wary. In her eyes, Lawrence differed from many other enemies.

With Lorenzo, the enemies they encountered, most of their objectives were traceable. You could somewhat discern their thoughts, but not Lawrence.

He was a very contradictory person.

Watson knew he sought that war, the insane war foreseen in the future. But no one knew to what extent the lunatic would go for such a war. He had already turned himself into a monster, but Watson felt this wasn’t the end for Lawrence.

Staring at him was like gazing into a pitch-black Abyss. You never knew what kind of monster would crawl out of the darkness.

“Nothing, just moving along my destiny.”

Lawrence chuckled continuously, looking genuinely happy as the long-sought ending drew near.

“Do you truly believe in destiny?” Watson suddenly asked, “Blindly and stubbornly believing, like a fool in a story.”

“Perhaps, after all, it’s the future I saw with my own eyes. I wouldn’t disbelieve myself, would I?”

Unusually, the two did not fight but instead chatted.

“So this place will be your grave? You’ve pursued it for so long, only to find yourself a tomb?” Watson didn’t understand.

“Perhaps sometimes I do feel a bit fatalistic.”

Lawrence surprisingly pondered seriously. He had walked so far, sometimes unable to see himself clearly.

“It truly sounds foolish. A monster like you, bound by something as ridiculous as fate? Following it and then dying.”

“Maybe it really is that absurd, this fate that drove me to do so many crazy things… But none of that matters now, right? My goal is about to be achieved, isn’t it?”

“Pathetic believer in fate.”

Watson mocked openly. In her eyes, Lawrence was a twisted and deformed monster, a fact that was true. He fractured his consciousness, bearing countless shattered Gaps, the increasingly bloated burden exhausting his will, and supporting Lawrence up to now was that illusory fate.

She vanished. After delivering the taunt, Watson left, disappearing without a trace, leaving the shell she had occupied to collapse, leaving only Lawrence alone.

“Pathetic… believer in fate?”

Lawrence whispered, savoring the words, then smiled.

He lived too long, invaded too many Gaps. The endless fragments twisted his consciousness into a monster, leaving him with few memories in the end.

Lawrence remembered…

Initially, it wasn’t like this. After persistently adhering to his destiny, he recalled there seemed to be something more. But it was a bit unclear to him.

Lawrence, like a puppet, was a slave bound by his destiny. He chose betrayal, embarking on the forbidden path of madness, advancing triumphantly, growing more degenerate and insane.

In all these sacrifices, he remembered besides destiny, there seemed to be something else, but perhaps immersed too deeply in the fate’s slaughter, the faint wish had long been forgotten.

“What was it, Lorenzo de’ Medici?”

For some reason, at that moment, Lawrence’s mind recalled the appearance of an old friend.

He thought for a long time but still couldn’t remember. However, Lawrence wasn’t anxious. He still believed in his destiny, remembered the end of this destiny. He believed as long as he continued, he would rediscover what he had forgotten.

Yes, just like that, this long journey was finally heading towards its conclusion.