During field duty, there are always unexpected situations, and for this reason, in recent tis, the Whistle, a seemingly inconspicuous item, has beco the most commonly used alchemy armant for Bologue and Palr.
Without Yuriel’s support, the Whistle cannot establish a vast Heart Core Net, but for ordinary sudden situations, its short-distance communication capability is sufficient.
Bologue and Palr acted separately, raiding the entire church to completely clear out the potential dangers here. This seemingly reckless separation was done with the understanding that Bologue would not die.
The Undying Body is an extrely powerful ability, making many things simpler under this condition. Palr didn’t have to worry about Bologue’s survival; he only needed to focus on his own safety. Bologue, like a hunting dog unleashed, relentlessly pursued the enemies.
Bologue would step into all sorts of dangers on his behalf, transmitting crucial intelligence to Palr at the rear. All Palr needed to do was deliver that fatal shot when the ti was right.
Thinking of this, Palr reached for his waist, where a small belt of bullet chains hung, loaded with exceptionally expensive alchemy warheads.
"One shot is half a month’s salary."
Palr muttered softly, echoing what Bologue had said when handing this over to him.
Screwing open the bullet chamber of the Thunderbolt Revolver, Palr ejected one of the bullets and loaded the alchemy warhead from his waist, rotating the chamber to position the alchemy warhead at the sixth shot.
Palr sat beneath the statue, holding the gun.
On the job, he might not match the expertise of Bologue, but it’s worth noting that Palr joined a year earlier than Bologue and even won the Best Newcor award the following year. Most importantly, when dealing with these cultists, Palr was quite experienced.
He couldn’t help but be experienced. Palr’s unlucky beginnings were all due to these damned cultists. If it weren’t for the identity of a Debtor, Palr felt he should have been working in the Ninth Group, which is responsible for hunting cultists.
Now in his current position, he was at the core of this sacrificial ritual. As long as he guarded this place, no matter what the cultists did, they couldn’t complete the final sacrifice to summon the Devil they worshipped.
"But... the blood and flesh sacrifice."
Palr frowned, staring at the corpses scattered all over the ground. Most had their bellies slit open, intestines spilling everywhere, forming circles of ritual patterns.
This brought back so unpleasant mories for him, and Palr muttered softly.
"These lunatics wouldn’t happen to be from the Ape Rot Sect, would they?"
In the gradually deafening silence, so viscous sounds squird, as if footsteps were treading through a thick pool of blood. Palr snapped his head up, but saw no one else present; only corpses littered the ground.
Even so, Palr could determine that sothing was approaching. He didn’t know if it was a Condenser or so other sinister entity, but he was sure it ca with full malice.
"Bologue, you were right, this matter isn’t that simple."
Palr muttered to himself, drawing a folding knife from his waist, holding the knife in his left hand and the gun in his right.
By now, Palr also felt the eerie atmosphere, the peculiar, ominous sensation specific to Devils, similar to countless sharp claws scratching at the lining of your stomach, or a cold breath lingering at your neck.
After becoming a Debtor, his old folks at ho rarely showed concern, but during phone calls, their aging voices sounded strange; they were both happy and worried. In their view, "Blessing" was a double-edged sword.
The most crucial thing was that they kept saying,
"You’ll see things you shouldn’t see, and feel things you wouldn’t normally be able to feel."
At the ti, Palr didn’t understand what these words ant, but seeing Bologue’s intense reaction on the street and then himself encountering the sa sinister aura deep within here,
Palr more or less understood. It was like being promoted from a regular person to a Condenser, as if he had an extra organ out of thin air, allowing him to perceive the presence of Ether. The Debtor identity was similar, granting him another qualification to perceive these eerie auras.
With these thoughts, Palr couldn’t help but lant his partner’s misfortune. He could sense these things from so far away; it was unimaginable what kind of dealings Bologue had with the Devil during the transaction.
"Bologue, I’ve encountered the enemy, and they want to reclaim this place."
Discarding all those chaotic thoughts, Palr calmly declared, as intricate light trails spread across his skin, as if a storm descended upon this place, shattering the remnants of the stained glass windows with a whistle, the raging winds pouring inside.
...
Palr’s words echoed through his mind, but they didn’t slow Bologue’s pace. He trusted his partner, believing that Palr wouldn’t die so easily, and even if he faced an overwhelming enemy, Bologue trusted his luck, along with the speed granted by the Secret Energy·Wind Source.
The entire cathedral area was controlled by these cultists. What Bologue killed inside the cathedral was only a portion; more cultists were hiding in different buildings, such as the cellar, chapel, living quarters, and bell tower.
As an expert, Bologue never liked letting anyone slip by. He advanced quickly in the side corridor, and during the battle amidst the sea of fire, he heard Bane’s words. There were no survivors in the cathedral area. Apart from the three of them, everyone else was an enemy, and there was no need for him to hold back anymore.
Bologue smashed open the main door with the Sheep Horn Shock Hamr. Amidst the rolling smoke, a dark figure lood, but he didn’t hesitate at all, swinging the hamr down and smashing the figure into a mist of blood.
The Face of Horror was in a released state, a faint white mist entwining the blood aura, spreading a strong sense of dread.
The Contract Object was an extrely eerie weapon. Coupled with Bologue’s brutal fighting style, many enemies thought they were scared by Bologue himself, but in reality, the fear they had for Bologue was only part of it; more so, it was the influence of the Face of Horror.
Yet, the enemies couldn’t imagine that Bologue, in their eyes, was like a nightmare breaking through the boundary of reality.
The cultists scread in agony, with large swathes of fresh blood staining the walls. So took the opportunity to hide, slipping into small rooms, closing the doors, locking them tightly, and blocking them with cabinets in an attempt to stop Bologue’s advance.
They lowered their breathing, trying hard to calm their restless hearts. Little did they expect that, the cultists who always hunted others, would one day be hunted themselves.
Trembling, they raised their guns, aiming at the blocked door. This was their last stand, but the anticipated death did not arrive. The surroundings were extrely quiet, as if the bloodthirsty Evil Spirit had gone far away.
One person heaved a sigh of relief, grateful for surviving, but the next second, a trendous crash resounded, causing the entire room to shake violently, as if a giant was pounding it.
They tensed up, raising their guns again, but the vibrations weren’t coming from the door. Instead, the wall they leaned against collapsed.
The wall shattered, and a hand erged from the crack, grabbing a nearby cultist. Before he could resist, he was squeezed and dragged out through the gap.
Amidst the knocking sounds, accompanied by piercing screams from the fissure, the remaining few were completely engulfed by fear, petrified in place, while so roared, trying to rouse their frenzy for the uncanny.
Logically speaking, these cultists were all madn, but in the face of greater fear, everyone briefly regained their sanity. A sinister figure stepped out from the smoky dust behind the breach, using the hamr to break open the fissure until it was wide enough for him to pass through easily.
He pulled the trigger, firing a volley of gunfire.
Countless bullets struck the figure, but they couldn’t tear through his flesh and blood, instead sparking heavily, as if under that gray-black coat, he wore stern Iron Armor.
Bologue quickened his pace, his gaze calm as he smashed the indoor enemies into blood and gore.
As he erged from the collapsed wall, the blood-stained courtyard was once again filled with cultists, holding their guns aloft, the muzzles uniformly aid at him.
From their numbers, it seed all the cultists were there, saving Bologue the ti of searching for them one by one; it also ant that the battle was reaching its finale.
"It seems I’ve also encountered a Condenser."
Bologue murmured, only the existence of a Condenser could rally these routed cultists.
Without any warning, gunfire roared instantaneously, but Bologue was faster than them. He never strayed from the collapsed wall, his left hand secretly touching the wall.
The bricks crumbled, then twisted into a wall shield in front of Bologue. Not only that, but Bologue also took advantage of the brief mont his figure was obscured, continuing to slam the ground, causing irregular earthen walls to rise, creating several covers in the once open courtyard.
This not only protected Bologue from gunfire but also allowed him to assault the enemies from behind cover.
Yet just as Bologue thought he had mastered the battlefield, Ether surged abruptly, pouring in from another direction. The rising earthen walls reversed, blocking Bologue’s view. He knew the opponent’s Condenser had appeared, but he couldn’t observe him imdiately.
The obstructing earthen walls crumbled in an instant, scarlet light trails scattered across the sinister figure, resembling a savage beast with blade-like claws, slashing out cold arcs.
Bologue didn’t hesitate, imdiately throwing out a grappling hook. Modified by Belli, the hook’s range was greatly extended, easily embedding into the higher bell tower.
The figure leaped swiftly, Bologue landing steadily on the high bell tower. From here, he could overlook the entire cathedral. Only then did Bologue realize that the scarlet blood not only covered the inside of the cathedral but also spread outside, turning the entire land into an evil ritual ground.
Looking down at the courtyard below, amidst the clouds of dust, Belli’s robust figure appeared where Bologue had just stood, the ground beneath fracturing.
"Palr, I’m engaged in battle as well."
Bologue’s voice was calm. Belli slowly arched his body, his expanding muscles like armor, his entire body filled with violent power.
Belli leaped fiercely, and after a resonant thud, Bologue didn’t even see Belli’s jumping trajectory. He simply appeared in front of him, swinging his claws.
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