Gun of Ashes

"This is what I know...everything about the Night of the Holy Arrival."

In the long tunnel, Lorenzo leaned against the mottled carriage of the steam subway, Merlin and Arthur sat opposite him.

Exhaling a faint puff of smoke, it rose and dissipated into the murky air, seemingly smoking too much made his throat hurt, Lorenzo coughed strongly a few times, throwing the cigarette butt from his hand, unknowingly several had already piled up at his feet.

"What a long night it is."

Merlin broke the death-like silence, not knowing whether to be happy or sad, only able to sigh helplessly from the audience's perspective.

"Indeed, it's really long, sometimes I feel the Night of the Holy Arrival hasn't ended, its aftermath still interfering with the whole world."

Lorenzo sighed lightly, recalling those memories wasn't pleasant.

"But we also have to thank the Night of the Holy Arrival, although I am merely a guardian, after all, guarding the Saint Nalos Cathedral, we Medanzo demon hunters can still learn many secret messages."

"Like that demon militarization project driven by greed, if it truly succeeds, it would ignite a new war, and more might die than during the Night of the Holy Arrival."

To this, Arthur nodded, his voice somewhat helpless.

"This is the current situation. Hundreds of years ago, wars only considered who had more people, whose sword was sharper, whose war horse was stronger, but now it's different. Times are advancing, the last war we used swords and shields, the next might be filled with cannonballs."

"Everyone's very restrained, maintaining a delicate balance."

Merlin stiffly nodded, as the last surviving alchemist, his mind was mostly occupied by forbidden knowledge, he wasn't very familiar with political situations, aside from nodding, he didn't seem to have anything else he could do.

"So, Mr. Holmes, as a demon hunter, do you think there's a way to defeat Dean Lawrence? You should have felt it too, to that level of corruption, ordinary soldiers joining the fight are just going to their death, not to mention you can't resist that kind of power."

Merlin asked, the primary goal now is to capture Dean Lawrence, given the enigmatic nature of the dean, he might really be able to stir another Night of the Holy Arrival in Old Dunling.

"I don't know..."

Lorenzo said somewhat bewilderedly.

"Dean Lawrence was right, I am his shadow, all demon hunters are his shadow, whether in the use of authority or demon hunting methods, all taught by him, he is the teacher of all of us."

"Not to mention that I am not a very good student."

Dean Lawrence, the only demon hunter among the bishops of the Evangelical Church, no one knows what he did to wear that blood-red robe, and no one knows how long he has lived, even in that night's battle, Dean Lawrence never exerted his full strength.

He is terrifying, more feared than any demon Lorenzo has encountered, Dean Lawrence knows everything about demon hunters, he is the demon hunter that hunts demon hunters.

"Really troublesome... Speaking of which, Mr. Holmes, are you interested in helping with a research project? If that project succeeds, perhaps facing Dean Lawrence we could have some chance."

Merlin suddenly suggested.

"What do you mean?"

Lorenzo looked at the alchemist, the empty gaze always made Lorenzo shiver.

Merlin's stiff cheeks smiled.

"Emerging technology, this is already a new era, Mr. Holmes, it's no longer an era where you can win a war as long as you have supreme knightly spirit.

Technology dominates the battlefield, military technology, increasingly expanding military techniques."

Just like those war airships, train artillery, new-style firearms, and even... Armor of Original Sin.

This technology is like demons, only this Pandora's Box originates from the minds of scholars themselves.

"Well then, take some time to consider, and let us get out of this gloomy place, huh?"

Merlin glanced at the eerie tunnel, dust fluttering, like some creature's grave.

…

In life, there are often many things akin to save points, once you return to them, it's as if you've washed your mind clean and start anew.

This definition of save point is very subtle, if quantified, after a save point, all your values return to their optimal, and the format of save points varies a lot, having different meanings for many people.

For example, some people's spirits revive after a cup of coffee, some after a nap, or perhaps after a hearty meal.

For Lorenzo, he has many save points too, but the most commonly used one is still this.

Opening his eyes, the ceiling above was covered with various posters, mostly restaurant promotions, listing some quirky dishes.

The dull sound of hurried hoofbeats came from outside the dim window, as the night descended, a sea of candlelight rose.

Upon leaving the underground and hurriedly bidding farewell to Arthur, Lorenzo returned to 121A Cork Street. Perhaps due to many days of not sleeping in his bed, once he lay down, he fell asleep in a daze, not waking until dusk.

Merlin didn't know what weapon project he was working on, but to combat Dean Lawrence, Lorenzo agreed immediately, since now this is not just his war anymore, it is the entire Purification Mechanism's war against Dean Lawrence.

The entire Purification Mechanism had started operating at high speed, dusty maintenance channels opened one by one, workers dove down to check whether in that vast underground maze there remained any demon breeding grounds.

The position of the Inner City District has been completely sealed off, soldiers heavily armed patrolling day and night.

Lorenzo nestled in the corner of the bed, the room devoid of any light, silent, he stared dazedly into the darkness, not knowing what he was thinking.

Upon returning, Mrs. Van Rudd was still asleep, apparently her age truly showing, which conveniently spared Lorenzo from explaining where he had been these days.

His roommate wasn't home either, unsure if they had gone back to work or doing something else.

Everyone has their own life, like parallel lines, you might see them but won't intersect, their lives are ordinary stage plays, only needing to worry about rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and tea every day, while Lorenzo's life is a war thriller, a slight mistake and he could join those demon hunters who died early.

Everyone together joyfully bathing in magma telling jokes, perhaps even encountering demons in hell, happily chopping at demons, rekindling old ties, that sort of thing… Of course, if there truly is that so-called afterlife.

Thinking about it, it's actually quite nice, intersecting with someone like Lorenzo never ends well, after all, not everyone has the courage to face demons.

Reaching towards the bed's edge, the cold touch reassured Lorenzo a lot, the first thing he did upon returning home was preparing weapons, the staff sword with holy silver coating rested by the bed, the fully-loaded Winchester laid on the other side, he didn't want to use a table knife next time encountering demons.

Picking up the familiar Winchester, in the dark Lorenzo leaned against the wall, gently caressing the gun's body, fingers slightly feeling the engraved words, Lorenzo had long memorized the text, even if he couldn't see it, it was fine.

"Do not go gentle into that good night."

Lorenzo whispered.

This was Medanzo's favorite poem, for this, he even engraved it onto his beloved gun.

He said it's a poem that curses death.

Truly arrogant, not knowing if it's admiration or ignorance, daring to curse predestined death, like a lunatic waving a sword at the sky.

But Lorenzo now had new feelings, his gray-blue eyes shimmering, he seemed to understand that kind of final fury.

Indeed, do not gently accept the arrival of death, even if Death God knocks, you should shoot through the door, you should roar and burn.

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

He murmured.