Lorenzo didn’t care if he accidentally hurt others. Even if there were any moral repentance, it should be done in the dead of night, not now.
His gaze was cold. After a series of encounters in the past few days, Lorenzo felt his vigilance had reached its peak.
"Nice to et you, Mr. Lorenzo Hols."
The man said amiably, then extended his hand, but his approachable deanor had now turned into a terrible threat in Lorenzo’s eyes.
"Who are you?"
Lorenzo didn’t react much, simply asked coldly.
"You can call Moriarty."
Seeing Lorenzo’s deanor, Moriarty withdrew his hand and then looked at the misty world outside the train window.
"The New Order?"
Lorenzo asked, he and Moriarty shared the sa hotown, Florence, so Lorenzo could only deduce he ca from there.
Moriarty made no attempt to hide it, he simply nodded,
"What do you want to do?"
Lorenzo couldn’t feel any anomaly from him, he seed just like an ordinary person, but after Lorenzo saw through his disguise, the bizarre unease swirled in his heart, refusing to leave.
This was a redundant question; Lorenzo knew exactly what the New Order wanted, that elusive Pseudo Holy Grail that even Lorenzo didn’t quite understand.
"The New Order is ready to make a move on you. We won’t allow the Pseudo Holy Grail to remain outside."
Moriarty didn’t answer Lorenzo’s question, instead, he spoke of sothing else.
"So you ca just to say this? Remind before killing , sounds arrogant."
The Secret Blood stirred restlessly, Lorenzo stared intently at the man’s face. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, he felt an imnse pressure.
He had too many enemies: the New Order, the remnants of Lawrence lurking in the shadows, the "curse" written by Shermans, and the demons that wouldn’t leave... it was as if the whole world had beco his enemy, and this ti the Purification chanism was no longer his solid support. He was left with only himself and the sword in his hand.
"Yes, just to remind you, after all, we are similar people; I wouldn’t want you to die so easily."
The Iron Serpent stopped, apparently for Moriarty’s alighting only. No other passengers moved; only Moriarty stepped off, standing on the platform gazing at Lorenzo in the train carriage.
Steam poured from the machine, and the Iron Serpent was set to move. Moriarty held a black umbrella, removed his glasses, caught the rainwater flowing from the umbrella edge, and combed back the hanging bangs, revealing his white forehead.
"But there’s another thing, Mr. Lorenzo Hols, I serve the New Order as simply my job, so there’s no helping it as it is work."
In a trance, he seed to transform into another person, without the glasses obscuring his eyes, his gaze was exceedingly clear, the amber pupils appeared to glow like jewels embedded in flesh, yet soon the previous friendliness and peace vanished, his eyes beca as sharp as blades, carrying a hint of madness.
His smile gradually beca frantic, exuding violent fury; for a mont, Lorenzo seed to see himself in him, the sa madness, the sa anger, a fla that burns unceasingly.
"They say you are a detective, also skilled in ’deception’, right?"
Lorenzo remained silent, gripping tightly the Folding Blade.
"Actually, I’m also skilled in ’deception’, how about we play a ga, Mr. Lorenzo Hols, just you and ."
A sudden downpour fell, and Moriarty’s figure, like dye in water, vanished in the deluge. Lorenzo was about to get off to inspect, but just then the Iron Serpent’s door closed abruptly, trapping him inside the train.
"Moriarty..."
Lorenzo whispered the na, as the Iron Serpent slowly started moving, advancing along the tracks, splashing water, yet the further it moved, the more intense was an indescribable eerie sensation.
An odd terror pierced into Lorenzo’s mind, his face pale; almost simultaneously, he whipped out the Folding Blade, grasping the shining steel like a flash of lightning.
Gone, all the passengers had vanished.
Lorenzo stood alone in the empty carriage, the previously crowded passengers disappearing with Moriarty.
"What... happened?"
Lorenzo’s eyes darkened, the Secret Blood ignited simultaneously, imbuing this corporeal vessel with extraordinary authority.
Yet he could see nothing.
All the windows were covered by a torrential curtain of rain, visibility less than three ters, and simultaneously the entire carriage began to violently shake. Amid shrieking wails, countless hands stretched from the rain curtain, pounding hard on the windows; through the blur, endless grotesque, bizarre faces could be seen.
Lorenzo was surrounded, surrounded by countless demons in the city center of Old Dunling.
As a Demon Hunter, Lorenzo did not fear demons, but he feared the unknown, the bizarre happenings, everything occurring so swiftly, so swiftly even Lorenzo felt bewildered.
He hadn’t detected any sign of contamination, yet instantly demons appeared in sight; the window shattered as sinister hands reached through the broken glass, akin to moths drawn to a fla, they lunged at Lorenzo in succession.
The Folding Blade carved out arcs of stark white light, severing the extended arms completely, blood mixed with rainwater turning into a cold, fetid torrent, dripping down the steel edges.
Torrential rain and thunder combined, bombarding this steel city under the tempest’s encasent.
The entire world seed subrged in a deluge; pedestrians found it hard to stand on the streets, seeking shelter from the rain, yet there was a sharp slicing sound emanating from beyond the rain curtain.
Across the carriage, the Folding Blade repeatedly pierced through the train body, penetrating demon after demon; their contamination intensity was low, rely ordinary demons, easy prey for Lorenzo’s slaughter.
The Iron Serpent raced recklessly along the rails, countless bizarre entities grasped the steel outer wall like barnacles clinging to it, yet all this remained unseen by anyone.
Those seeking refuge from the rain could only glimpse a vague sothing moving through the downpour, the wails and screams drowned by descending thunder, Lorenzo was so close to these ordinary folk, yet this very distance was like two separate worlds.
It seed a voice echoed beyond the rain, but more intense crashing tore it all apart, the Iron Serpent derailed under the demons’ assault, tumbling and crashing by the street side, the steel shredded by sharp sword light.
Lorenzo, gripping the Folding Blade, stood alertly, and beyond the curtain of rain, countless silhouettes slowly approached, baring sharp teeth and claws, their mutated bodies still clad in remnants of human attire. Minutes ago they were ordinary humans, but now they were afflicted by what was called the demon plague, becoming these bizarre entities.
"Demons, demons, they just never end..."
Scorching white flas blazed intensely, even the wind and rain could not quench them, driving away the cold, evaporating raindrops before they could fall, a faint steam perating, with eyes rising like midday suns beneath.
The fire-wreathed Folding Blade effortlessly severed demon bodies, blood and rainwater evaporated together by the fla, the cold air suffused with a terrifying scent.
People could only see the brilliance shining from behind the rain curtain, akin to thunder leaping across the ground.
On the other side of the rain curtain, Moriarty observed the "real" world quietly, peculiar white flas burned in his pupils, but soon those white flas extinguished. He greeted towards the place of rising light.
"Enjoy your playti! Mr. Lorenzo Hols!"
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