It seed that Bola would die just like this, at the hands of Galahad. To be honest, with death approaching, Bola wasn’t exactly afraid; he just felt a deep sadness. Galahad had killed Bluebird, and now he was about to kill him. Galahad was a friend, soone who fought against monsters, yet in the end, he beca a monster himself.
How ironic...
The sharp blade in his pupils grew larger and larger, but at that mont, a spear covered in circuits pierced through the iron cage and struck Galahad’s body. It couldn’t penetrate the sturdy armor, but the sharp barbs sprang out from the front, clutching tightly onto Galahad’s body.
"Little bird, fly up!"
A damning voice rang in his ear. It reminded Bola of a certain lunatic, but before he could recall the lunatic’s face, more spears struck Galahad. Although they couldn’t harm him, the barbs that sprang out bound him like shackles.
Dazzling sparks flew across his vision. The steel-like wings lted one by one, and the hot iron droplets dripped onto Bola, making him groan in agony. Yet, despite the pain, it seed he survived. A hand reached into the lted cage and grabbed him, then pulled him out in one swift motion.
"The little bird is safe, begin recovering Galahad!"
The man was dressed in a white lab coat and wore a gas mask with a filter on his face. Realizing Bola was watching him, he barely lifted the eyelids above his dark circles, greeting Bola with a sickly enthusiasm.
As the man’s words fell, Bola felt a tingling sensation. The floating particles in the air before him began to glow faintly, then extinguished. His hair gently lifted as if soone was lightly brushing it. In the next second, flowing electricity surged past the two of them, illuminating everything, as if the god of thunder had descended.
The wings emitted a low hum. Thousands of swords leapt out, but Galahad was still bound by the spears. Just as there was a little distance left, a massive surge of electricity pierced through him.
The light shone into Bola’s weary eyes. It was those spears — each connected to a cable. They never intended to penetrate Galahad in the first place; their purpose was to connect the electricity.
"Put this on."
Like admiring a landscape, the man handed Bola a gas mask identical to his own, then gunfire erupted.
The electricity completely halted Galahad’s actions. Iron canister after iron canister fell beside him, emitting a pale yellow anesthetic that completely enveloped his ferocious body. His violent movents began to slow under the heavy dosage, resembling a cornered beast.
"What are you doing here, Nikola?"
Looking at this madman, Bola felt no joy in narrowly escaping death.
Nikola pointed to the electrically surrounded Galahad, his tone filled with weariness. His voice rose and fell inconsistently, as though his throat was hoarse.
"Galahad can die, but the Armor of Original Sin he’s wearing is very valuable, and we also need experintal data."
More people disembarked from the Iron Serpent at the last mont, fully ard and well-equipped.
It was only then that Bola realized his mistake. The Armor of Original Sin was not sothing one person could wear. These damned lunatics had been in the carriage all along. They never hesitated to sacrifice anyone for so-called progress. To them, tonight’s operation was rely a weapon test.
"What exactly are you doing!"
Bola shouted angrily. Nikola was unaffected and casually replied.
"These Knight Commanders have been specially optimized. They can endure much more ntal strain than a little bird like you, but obviously not everyone is Lancelot. So far, besides him, the other Knight Commanders haven’t been able to control the armor, and Galahad certainly can’t. He was instead controlled by the armor."
There was no hint of reflection in his tone. To Nikola, everyone was just a laboratory rat.
The gas mask reflected the dark figure in the lightning. More people passed by the two of them, wearing clothing entirely made of iron chains, turning their bodies into individual Faraday cages to avoid possible electrical shocks. Dragging the cables, Galahad was moved like a wild dog.
Just monts ago, the indomitable Black Angel was subdued by professionals, and then a pitch-black coffin was brought down from the Iron Serpent.
The frawork, whose composition was unknown, was cast in a dark golden surface engraved with bizarre, nacing reliefs. Copper pipes densely populated the edges of the coffin. It resembled a magnificent painting, an angel descends, or perhaps countless demons rise from the shadows.
The hexagons of the coffin popped up one by one, revealing silver-white nails, but they also resembled bolts in a chanical structure. As the coffin opened, endless white cold air spewed out. The air heated by fierce flas instantly plumted below zero, and a thin layer of frost ford on the tal surface.
Galahad, like a dead dog, was dragged to the edge. To control this out-of-control knight, hundreds of ters of cables were uncoiled from the Iron Serpent, continuously electrocuting to paralyze and suppress all of Galahad’s movents. Yet, just as he was being loaded into the icebox-like coffin, his exhausted body erupted with astonishing strength again.
His dark eyes eerily glanced to the side, and his dark red muscles tensed once more.
In an instant, the sharp steel feathers sliced through the soldiers’ iron armor. The high-voltage current instantly charred them, and then the blade swung down, severing several cables.
"If you can still move, co help!"
Nikola panicked as well. According to experintal data, the Armor of Original Sin should have lost its mobility, yet the reality was so abnormal. The blade was swung high, killing one restraining him after another.
Struggling with all his might, the blast of crumbling rocks sounded one last ti. It was a speeding projectile that instantly struck Galahad, but with the additional barrage, the Iron Serpent equipped with the smoothbore cannon finally toppled over after continuous shellings.
Bola struggled to stand up. In the final mont, he grabbed his silver-white spear and smashed it heavy onto Galahad. The shaft was embedded with sharp barbs, like thorns.
The barrage and the blow disoriented Galahad, who had just broken free from the electric shock. At this mont, new electrified spears struck Galahad, driving him like a torch chasing away the beast. Nikola took out a hefty revolver. Despite his frail body, the massive kickback couldn’t budge him an inch. Round after round, the bullets punched Galahad back step by step.
Emptying the last bullet, the unbalanced Galahad was finally forced back inside. The coffin sealed shut, and the popped silver nails fell back one by one, reinforcing it doubly.
A dull pounding echoed from within, like an evil spirit knocking on the door.
Nikola sighed, removed his gas mask, and placed a cigarette between his pallid, sickly lips. Leisurely, he sat on top of the coffin, gently brushing his hand over the frost-covered tal surface.
"Galahad’s recovery is complete. Prepare to retreat. Leave the rest to the Purification chanism."
The pounding persisted, shattering the surface frost. Countless pipes extended from the Iron Serpent and connected to the coffin. It wasn’t clear what they injected inside, but the agitated coffin settled down in a few minutes, and the Geiger Counter that had been screaming fell silent. The deranged demon was finally cald.
"Nikola, I need an explanation."
Bola struggled to his feet, blood oozing from every wound, yet he didn’t care. Beneath the mask, his expression was filled with unprecedented rage.
"Don’t rush. It’s all authorized by Arthur and the Chief."
Nikola found Bola’s angry emotions laughable and continued speaking.
"About a month later, Arthur will hold a Round Table eting at the Broken Do. All your questions will be answered there, but until then, Bola, you need to figure out a way to survive."
Bola’s expression was strange; he wanted to say sothing, but chaos filled his vision. The excess blood loss and injuries fully erupted at this mont.
Watching Bola collapse helplessly, Nikola sighed again, but a group of soldiers quickly lifted him up. As an Upper-Rank Knight of the Purification chanism, Bola couldn’t just die like this.
The engine began to roar, and Nikola strolled leisurely across the scorched battlefield. His muddled gaze scanned the burning world, leaving only a white silhouette. On the back of that white coat, a black serpent devoured its own tail, coiling and extending infinitely.
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