Gun of Ashes

Chapter 930 12: Hungry Wolves (Part 2)

It looked like they had the upper hand, but in reality the fighting strength left was almost gone. Lorenzo looked toward the platforms all around; many Soldiers had already fallen. The ones still standing stared tensely in every direction—maybe in the very next second, the comrade beside them would twist and warp into another ferocious Demon.

"Give me a bit more time, Lorenzo."

Merlin hauled William up again as he spoke. William was the one closest to the darkness, the one most likely to glimpse the secrets behind the curtain. Merlin didn't want to just throw all that away.

New Thunder Groups sparked out of thin air. They descended from the midsection of the shaft wall, and under the scatter of pitch‑black lightning they instantly shredded the surrounding matter. Some appeared directly on the lift platform—countless Thunder Groups devoured the entire platform, leaving one huge, burning crater after another, then the broken metal began to fall, crashing down onto the battlefield below.

Worse were the Thunder Groups that appeared in the middle of the crowd. The Soldiers had no time to run before they were caught. The ball lightning tore through one flesh‑and‑blood body after another with ease. Stranger still, no blood spilled out; before a single drop could fall it was seized by another force, broken down and dispersed, then gathered at the center of the Thunder Group to forge a new shell.

"I'll try my best then, Merlin."

Lorenzo watched it all in silence, feeling a bit of pressure.

The dead Angels returned once more, their remade bodies powerful and strong.

This time Lorenzo didn't throw himself directly into the fight. He stood at the edge of the platform, guarding Merlin, his eyes sharply taking everything in.

"This crap just never ends!"

Percival couldn't help roaring. From her position she could directly observe the situation as a whole, and all she saw was Thunder Group after Thunder Group surging forth, densely packed, covering the battlefield.

All she could do was fire in the instant the Angels detached from the Thunder Groups, while they were still fragile and hadn't yet begun to move, doing everything she could to wear down their strength.

One light‑trail after another slashed out and landed on the Angels, the violent explosions mangling their flesh‑and‑blood bodies into shattered pieces.

William seemed to come back to himself. He stared at all this in a kind of shock. These monsters had the holy appearance of Angels, but they crawled out of the fog‑choked shaft like Evil Ghosts, and judgmental radiance fell from the heavens above, beating them back one by one.

If back then William and the others had possessed this kind of defensive power, perhaps everything would have been different. During the Red Signal incident William hadn't been able to react at all. The lab did have Soldiers assigned to guard it, but their gear back then was nothing compared to now. The Angels had killed everyone with ease, pouring madness into each person's consciousness.

Percival pulled the trigger again, but this time there was no thunderous roar in response. The ammo was gone.

Just like before, the Lancer Cavalry's hand reached back—but this time it grasped only empty air. The piles of ammunition had all been used up; only hollow iron crates remained.

Once the experiment began, the entire Workshop had been sealed off, even the overhead rail. It was meant for transporting goods, but judging by its capacity, it was more than enough for Demons to follow the track and invade the entire Perpetual Motion Pump.

"Damn."

Percival thought to herself.

This spot still counted as relatively safe. It was at the highest point of the Workshop, and the Angels hadn't reached it yet; most of them were still concentrated at the bottom and mid‑levels.

"Ah… for hell's sake!"

Percival thought briefly, then made her decision. She tossed aside the heavy Lance and drew a War Blade from the upright weapon rack. Its blade wasn't as massive as a Sword Dancer's, so it didn't need to be linked into the systems and could be gripped directly in the hand.

The Lancer Cavalry suddenly leapt off the high platform. At the same time, the fuel tank on its back ignited, and roaring flame blasted out from the rear of the Armor.

From this height, a direct fall—even without an Angel's assault—would leave her half‑dead even in Third Generation Armor. But things went differently than expected: the Light Cavalry slammed into the rim of the shaft wall instead, and with the huge thrust from the fuel tank she began racing downward, circling along the shaft wall—and swinging the War Blade as she went.

In close‑quarters control, Percival was clearly not as good as Bola, though that might be due to their Armor classes. The Lancer Cavalry's role was essentially a self‑propelled artillery launcher with a degree of high mobility, whereas the Sword Dancer was the one meant to charge into the fray as a frontline berserker.

During the Lancer Cavalry's descent, she didn't manage to cut down many enemies with the War Blade; instead, relying on her own sturdy frame, she barreled through and knocked aside quite a few Angels just emerging from the Thunder Groups.

"Not bad!"

Percival shouted gleefully. It felt like piloting a boat—she was happily capsizing one obstacle after another in her way.

"Watch out, Percival!"

Amid the laughter, Bola shouted loudly.

"What's… wrong?"

Percival shifted her gaze to the side, and before she could get an answer she already knew what had happened.

At first it was a pitch‑black singular point that fell in beside the Lancer Cavalry. Right now her speed was very high and the fuel tank on her back was blazing; she'd need less than a second to shoot past that black point. But the rate at which it proliferated far exceeded imagination.

In an instant the black point swelled into a surging Thunder Group. The sturdy External Armor and inner Armor collapsed in a heartbeat. Blinding white light lit Percival's face. Only at such a point‑blank, certain‑death distance did she get a clear look at the Thunder Group's true form—it wasn't pure pitch black. In the Abyss, there was a faint glow of white, only far too weak, visible only from this doomed closeness, a fleeting glimpse at the edge.