Gun of Ashes

Chapter 927 11: Starry Sky

They are like a group of incomprehensible monsters, slumbering in the darkness, feeding on the cursed knowledge, feeding on information that mortals should not know. Similarly, depending on the threshold of information, they also selectively hunt, prioritizing the lambs that have ventured beyond the [fence].

The firelight reflected off the angels' cold faces, resembling a divine battle in a religious mural, with sharp iron feathers unfurling in quick succession, their keen edges like a thousand swords.

Upon hearing Lorenzo's roar, Merlin's actions faltered. He looked around only to see the angels converging on this location, their target was William.

"Hold them back! Buy me some time!"

Merlin shouted loudly while drawing out the Folding Blade, which gleamed with a cold, icy light.

It's still not enough, this is not enough.

Merlin's eyes turned red, showing the side of him seldom seen, like an enraged warrior.

The intelligence William provided was not enough, far from satisfying Merlin's nearly greedy thirst for knowledge. He wanted to know more; even in the face of such a strange enemy as the angels, he was unafraid.

The edge of reason wavered slightly; Merlin himself was unsure if he was fighting for mankind's survival, against the Demons, or pursuing the Truth coveted by all Alchemists.

What he did know was that William could not die yet, at least not before bringing more useful information.

With flames and gunfire, the entire Workshop turned into a small battlefield, though perhaps calling it that doesn't do justice—this place was now an arena of duels, where only one side could survive this endless struggle.

"Damn it! Is there any other fire support?!"

Seeing the scene, Lorenzo also shouted to others.

Merlin was right; he alone was indeed formidable. If Lorenzo were to face the angels alone in the Workshop, although it would be tough, he was confident he could handle them. But now, the Workshop wasn't only populated by him but also with these individuals that needed protection.

"Fire support is here!"

A cheerful voice rang out, Percival's thoughts seemingly bouncing around, making it hard for others to grasp what she was doing.

The Lancer Cavalry stood on a high platform, and the ammunition in the cartridge soon ran out, but behind the Third Generation Armor were piles of ammunition boxes—the role designed for Rangers to serve as mobile long-range support. Now it was like a turret, unleashing firepower upon the battlefield below, although sadly, Merlin and others were still in the fray; Percival had to control the firepower.

The gunfire boomed continuously, each boom followed by a dark red trajectory flashing past, then heavy iron smashed into the angels, splintering fragments slicing them to pieces.

Soldiers coordinated their attacks, firing at the injured angels after the Lancer Cavalry's shots. The dense, high-temperature aluminothermic bombs further forced them into dire straits. Some angels managed to break free from the siege, but what awaited them was Lorenzo's cold Nail Sword.

Lorenzo moved swiftly through the Workshop, leaving the main firepower output to the Armor of Original Sin and the soldiers; his role was to deliver the angels a fatal blow.

The Nail Sword flickered, piercing one after another bodies, motionlessly collapsing, and their void wills dissipated from the cracked shells, awaiting a return once again.

"Over here! Merlin!"

The Sword Dancer, wielding two Giant Blades, carved a path, Bola shouted to Merlin, and at the end of the path, an elevator platform embedded in the well wall began to descend slowly. Bola needed Merlin and the others to move onto it.

The bottom of the Workshop had already become the main battlefield, while on the vertical well walls of the Workshop, there were many more elevator platforms that could serve as shelter, protecting Merlin and the others and allowing the Armor of Original Sin to unleash their firepower.

Armor muskets fired continuously, sketching out Dragon Breath Paths on the ground, where the angels were struck down by impact and high temperatures, their bodies beginning to scorch and die, yet more flesh grew at the wound sites, extending the deadly frames.

But this provided Bola a certain time for pursuit, as the angels were still recovering, the Giant Blade swung, slicing through chunks of flesh and blood.

To fight like this, despite how dire the current situation seemed, one had to endure it in order to buy more time to think of other things.

Bola thought, and an ear-piercing crackling sound echoed. A pair of pristine wings opened behind the Sword Dancer, like embracing the angel. The wings closed in, with their sturdy and sharp edges slicing the Sword Dancer like thousands of swords, constant sharp clamor, and sparks.

It was as if a monster bit into the Sword Dancer, closing its jaws with force, its sharp fangs biting it to pieces. Fortunately, the Sword Dancer was equipped with External Armor, and this strike wasn't enough to cause significant damage. Bola tried to resist, but more angels gathered, and with the transformed Demons, they swarmed like ants.

At the moment the angels descended, a massive corrosion came along. Soldiers close to the Thunder Group instantly lost their sanity under the high-intensity corrosion, turning into the present-day Demons, and this corrosion kept spreading, with the numbers increasing over time.

"Get away from me!"

Bola angrily roared, trying to break free from the restraint but was wrapped in more wings, unceasingly slicing his armor, the deafening sharp screeches like Evil Ghosts wailing by the ear.