Gun of Ashes

The tides began to roar with the rising wind, crashing against the coastal rocks, finally shattering into pale foam and vanishing into the air.

A solitary lighthouse stood above the raging sea, green moss crawling all over the scarred stone bricks, and at the very top, the guiding light burned quietly, emitting a strange eerie green.

A torrential downpour descended after a brief thunderclap, as if a God was weeping over being forgotten, the rapid flow of water twisting everything in the world, washing the entire existence with a chilling coldness.

"The Purification Mechanism has arrived, we need to leave now."

In the silence, someone spoke, a neutral voice sounded from beneath a bird-beaked mask, the mirrored surface of the Plague Doctor mask reflecting an eerie green light, giving an inexplicable sense of grotesque.

"They carry heavy firepower, with Lancelot following behind, we have no power to resist."

He gazed at the figure on the edge of the platform, the eerie green light illuminating his silhouette, seemingly a Priest wearing the Church's attire, with silver crosses sewn on the edges of his sleeves.

"You go first, I'll stay here."

The man replied calmly, looking down at the earth.

He didn't care what would happen next, what mattered to him at this moment was the present that haunted his soul.

"Although we successfully trapped that train, the Sailing Dawn in the sky is still pursuing us, we sacrificed a lot to divert Lancelot elsewhere, but it only resulted in a slight delay."

"We can hold on for a long time, right?" he suddenly asked.

"Do you mean this darkness?"

The man nodded, he knew well what could kill a Demon, and also what could make a Demon stronger.

"The sunrise has been delayed, endless dark clouds and darkness shelter this place."

The Plague Doctor's voice carried a hint of uncertainty.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

The Plague Doctor seemed doubtful, leaving the man here alone would only lead to death.

"Yes, the Nightmare Illusion has already controlled that train, we have the advantage, and according to our information, isn't there still a Demon Hunter there?"

There was some reminiscence in the man's eyes, gazing at the wounds on his arm, with the surge of Secret Blood, a blazing white flame ignited in his eyes.

"It must be a Demon Hunter, only a Demon Hunter's Spiritual Vision can reach such deep within the Gap, that's why I can see him, and he can see me."

Like a joyful child, his words carried madness and delight.

"Plague Doctor, after all these years, I finally see another Demon Hunter, I'm truly filled with curiosity and joy."

As the Demon Hunter spoke, the blazing white flames roared fiercely.

Since around six years ago, the man had considered himself the only Demon Hunter, but now there was another one emerging in this desolate world, and that feeling was peculiar, indescribable.

"Then I'll start preparing to transfer the Holy Coffin."

The Plague Doctor said no more, although their time working together was short, he knew well what kind of person the man was, and turned directly to formal procedures, the Holy Coffin had to leave Ingwig tonight.

"Go ahead, speed up, don't worry about the casualties, after all, only you and the Holy Coffin can leave, right?"

The Demon Hunter spoke calmly, just like Sabo in the Underground Palace, he was also a fated dead man, a martyr sacrificed for a grand undertaking.

"Help me convey to the mentor that I look forward to seeing him in the new era."

The Plague Doctor said no more, nodded and turned to leave.

The Demon Hunter then fell into silence, looking at the world below the lighthouse, all of it bathed in that eerie green light.

The world was changing in the sound of the rain.

The pollution of the Demons could spread through many media, even light was no exception, on the earth that the gaze could reach, the originally hard nature was gone, they were as soft as flesh, grotesquely growing massive appendages extending from the bottom of the lighthouse, they reached across a long distance, completely covering the once small town.

This was a living land, people were immersed in this flesh, shrouded in the green light, they appeared to be asleep with dream-like smiles on their faces.

Such expressions were on the face of everyone on this land, they were all indulging in the same beautiful dream, and all of this was still spreading outward like a virus through various mediums.

The appendages entwined on the railway, the train named Radiant was rushing along, like prey about to leap into a trap.

The Plague Doctor walked slowly down the spiral staircase, the inside of the lighthouse had transformed into a nurturing pouch of flesh, various scarlet organs hung within, and at the very bottom, an aged man lay in the center of the flesh, wearing an expression of peace and happiness.

He merely glanced at it, then strode away, in the time he spent here, the Plague Doctor had already obtained the experimental data he needed, no need to look further.

Following his vision, he looked outside the lighthouse, under the rain were the thin figures being washed away, they shivered in the cold wind, the icy air almost suffocating them, yet no one stopped, they carried the steel on their shoulders like Ascetics, moving forward.

Initially, there were over a hundred of them, and now only sixteen remained, like consumables, when someone fell, those behind would take their place, continuing to bear that heavy divinity.

The gray-white Church robes clung tightly to their bodies, with lingering bright red, more blood gushing out from the Ascetics' facial features, they were on the verge of collapsing, yet steadfastly held on to the Iron Coffin.

In the darkness, there seemed to be whispers, it was the slow fermentation of ominousness, carrying murmurs and prayers, thousands converged into one, becoming a sacred ode.

The Ascetics sang, sang of that great era.

Thus more blood gushed out from their facial features, as if being squeezed by some invisible force, their bodies rapidly shriveled and withered, a sobbing sound yet to emerge, the body crumbled like ashes washed away by rain.

The next person placed his hand on that empty spot, praying.

"Everyone, please hurry up."

The Plague Doctor said thus, though he was unsure whether these Ascetics heard his words, they were like an insistent group of sea turtles, moving towards the ocean regardless of any threat.

All he could do was follow behind them, watching them head towards the tide, yet at a certain moment, as if by some strange compulsion, the Plague Doctor's gaze involuntarily landed on the divinity hoisted by the Ascetics.

From the start, the Plague Doctor had been trying his best to avoid directly staring at that thing, but at this moment, it seemed some existence finally found this opportunity, then seized the moment to invade.

[Look at me...]

[What do you desire?]

[Is it knowledge, or immortality...]

In an instant, the murmuring words filled the Plague Doctor's mind, vision chaotic and disordered, cold sweat seeping out, heart rate rapidly rising, and just at the brink of collapse, a sacred prayer resounded in his heart.

That voice grand as bell chimes, increasingly soaring and shrill.

The Plague Doctor barely stood up, in front of him the Ascetics still headed towards the tide, but as if waiting for him, they stopped, realizing the Plague Doctor's escape, they continued muttering the Holy Words, staggering forward.

Forward, stepping into the tides.

The tide submerged up to their waists, up to their necks, and when even the Plague Doctor thought this was a suicidal action, a wooden boat broke through the waves.

Destined by fate it seemed.

The seawater already submerged their heads, yet those arms still tightly held onto the boat, then lifted the heavy divinity onto the boat, the waves relentlessly crashing against the Plague Doctor, thick clothes now his shackle, no matter how hard he tried, the hopeful boat remained a distance away from him.

Yet in this despair, countless hands grabbed him, the Ascetics hoisted the Plague Doctor, lifting him onto the boat, the night sky flashed with lightning and thunder, the Plague Doctor could only see in the dark blue seawater below, faces of divinity, they seemed to be smiling, with one last push, they sent the boat away from the shore.

The Ascetics died, they sank into that icy tide, using their last strength to send the boat away, the Plague Doctor turned his back to the holy object, breathing heavily, face distorted.

He didn't believe in any God, but at this moment, everything seemed so coincidental, making it hard not to believe that some existence was secretly manipulating it all.

The boat had no sails, in fact, there was just enough space for the Plague Doctor and the item named Holy Coffin, the waves propelled them, sending them to that fated destination.