Gun of Ashes

Chapter 840 61: The Black Howl (Part 2)

This is a devastating strength, unstoppable.

"Corey Ferre!"

Lorenzo shouted the name, gripping the Staff Sword tightly, surging flames covering the edge of the blade.

This is the side effect of Authority: Gabriel, Erin's memories invading him, the anger deeply buried in Erin's memories now overlapping with Lorenzo. But Lorenzo did not resist these; he was avenging Erin; this was her fury, and it was Lorenzo's as well.

Corey didn't dare to look back; he could feel the scorching temperature behind him, along with the subtle sound of flesh and blood collapsing.

He was terrified, yet there was a bizarre smile on his face.

It had been so long; he hadn't felt fear for so long. At this moment, the threat from Lorenzo made Corey feel truly alive.

No... it was not just joy.

Corey hesitated for too long; even though he was such a blasphemer, he couldn't help but be afraid when facing that taboo.

He knew very well that as long as he stepped forward, he would gain rebirth; he would become young, gain unparalleled power, and all of this only required a very small price.

To sell his own soul, to consume that sinful Secret Blood.

Corey had wanted to do this countless times, but he was always hindered by that void reverence. He knew very well that no one could prove the existence of a "soul," but every time he was about to touch the Secret Blood, he hesitated and gave up.

"Ah... how great it is!"

Corey murmured cheerfully; the time the guards won for him was too brief, but it was enough. He crashed through the door, fell into a pool of blood, but as if something was supporting him, he quickly got up and ran wildly toward the dim end of the corridor.

How great.

Corey finally didn't have to struggle with all this; Lorenzo had made the choice for him: he wanted to live, he wanted to witness the destruction of the Evangelical Church, he wanted to consume the Secret Blood...

As long as he could live to witness all this, the cost of a soul was really too cheap.

Countless lights emerged behind him, illuminating the corridor while also bringing scorching air currents, as if a Flame Demon was chasing Corey.

At this moment, the only thought remaining in his mind was to run, run forward with all his might.

Corey's thought now was ridiculous; under Lorenzo's pursuit, he couldn't escape; he also couldn't consume the Secret Blood... even if he did, he would be slain by Lorenzo, because he was too powerful.

But there was no need to think about all this; he just wanted to escape, to run forward.

This blasphemer prayed in a long-lost way; he wanted to survive, but in this situation, no one could save him... unless a miracle happened.

Corey prayed devoutly, and so the miracle happened.

The silhouette of the Flame Demon stopped in place; Lorenzo didn't continue pursuing but instead grasped the Staff Sword, staring into the darkness at the end of the corridor.

Corey crawled strenuously, leaving a long trail of blood on the ground until he lost his strength and stopped, emitting indistinct whimpers from his mouth.

Meanwhile, footsteps sounded from the end of the darkness.

Erin and Hebdo came out in pursuit; they should have been faster, but Erin spent half the day looking for that piece of Secret Blood. She looked at Lorenzo, who was holding the Fire Sword, about to ask something, but only heard Lorenzo's voice.

"Ivar is in the next room."

In the previous conversation, it was clear that Corey was influenced by the Secret Blood; he almost revealed Ivar's location. Although he quickly regained his senses, that slight change was still observed by Lorenzo.

"Lorenzo..."

Erin tried to say something, but Lorenzo interrupted.

"You go save Ivar, leave immediately after success, don't wait for me... and remember to listen to my voice. If I tell you to retreat, you must leave immediately."

Lorenzo was acting oddly, Erin wanted to say more, but crisp footsteps came from the end of the darkness.

In an instant, a strange feeling enveloped Erin; she also glimpsed Lorenzo's memories, witnessing his twisted life. Sometimes Erin would also be affected by these, doing things uncharacteristic of her, and now that feeling came again.

"Let's go, Erin."

Lorenzo said again.

Suddenly, Erin remembered something, and a great sense of fear enveloped her. She didn't want to leave; she felt that if she left, something terrible would happen.

In that deep darkness, some evil anomaly was approaching; with its arrival, the entire darkness came alive, like a viscous liquid full of life, twisting, struggling, emitting sharp sounds.

It's him... it's him, that nightmare from deep memory, that unforgivable sin.

"Live... live, Lorenzo."

Erin murmured, tears bursting forth, but she remained expressionless.

If there was anyone in the world who truly understood themselves, it would be Lorenzo. They had both opened their hearts and empathized with each other.

Lorenzo did not respond; he just gazed into the darkness, the blaze swirling with an unquenchable fury.

"Hebdo, let's go!"

Having made up her mind, Erin no longer hesitated, directly dragging Hebdo toward the darkness behind Lorenzo, searching for Ivar.

"Save me... save me..."

Corey pleaded with the Devil in the darkness, the Devil laughing lightly, with a metallic tone.

"Of course, Corey Ferre."

The darkness swallowed Corey bit by bit; no, it wasn't swallowing; something grabbed him, dragging him into the darkness little by little. Whether it was the light of the Purifying Flame or the Demon Hunter's extraordinary vision, they couldn't see through that darkness.

Lorenzo opened the cello case, cold weapons slipped out, and he armed himself, whispering.

"Long time no see..."

In the darkness, the sound of approaching footsteps rang again, and with his approach, melodious singing also came from outside the window.

The performance ceased.

This sudden situation brought unpredictable panic; Renette led the orchestra out of the theater, seemingly to calm everyone's fear, and he and the orchestra performed briefly in the open space.

This time, the song played was melodious and gentle, the Believers surrounding the orchestra layer by layer, reigniting the candle flames. The firelight gathered into a sea, swaying slightly in the night breeze, like the glistening surface of the sea.

The Believers lowered their heads, praying devoutly; the sound of prayer mingled with the singing, like hymns resounding inside a church. Liya looked at this beauty, unable to help humming that nameless melody, joining in, and then more melodies joined in as well.

"Long time no see, how should I address you? Lorenzo de' Medici? Or Lorenzo Holmes?"

He asked, but didn't wait for Lorenzo's answer, dismissing himself.

"Never mind, names don't matter."

He emerged from the darkness, his robe as if soaked in blood, glowing crimson under the light of the Purifying Flame.

The sound of prayer surged into the corridor, echoing like indistinct murmurs, but if you listened carefully, whether a hallucination or something else, you could vaguely discern some words.

The voices were calling, chanting, and remembering, all cursing that name together.

"Lawrence!"

The pitch-black Knight raged.

In an instant, the scorching sword light tore the Purifying Flame into a blazing white thunder, piercing the darkness, casting everything in a cold, ghastly white.

A piercing crash resounded.

In the blink of an eye, the Staff Sword shattered into countless fragments; with it, the scribe's robe burned into ashes, the broken Nail Sword's tip sliced through the dust, embedding into the wall, vibrating violently with a buzzing sound.

Blood splattered into crimson foam, carrying a bloody sweet scent in the rising stream of light.

Underneath the pitch-black face armor, behind the steel mask.

Two pairs of blazing white eyes reflected each other; holding the Broken Sword, they clashed again, reveling in this long-awaited duel of life and death.