Knowing all this at this mont, what does it matter? He no longer has the ability to pass on this ssage; he can only carry it to his grave.
Cold wind and rain battered its body as the demon erged from the research zone, once again drenched in the downpour.
Its hideous and terrifying form could no longer be recognized, while in the farthest reaches of its sight, beneath that sowhat laughable barrier, people still held their ground.
When they ran out of ammunition, they'd take up folding blades, and if those dulled, they'd use shards of steel to strike, fighting to the end like primitive beings battling with stones.
They guarded this storm-drenched stronghold, the final barrier, while the Armors of Original Sin continued their onslaught, moving and slaying amidst the fiery rain.
The demon clad in iron armor showed signs of weakness as the wounds widened continuously; now it just needed a force capable of a killing blow, but the current firepower was insufficient.
No... There's still a chance.
Lancelot's hookshot anchored into the do, his shadow hanging like a bat above, attracting the demon's ironclad attention with Percival's distraction, montarily unaware of Lancelot's actions.
Above the lead-gray clouds, daylight fell heavily, and at that mont, Lancelot leapt once more.
For high mobility, his armor was the lightest among the first-generation armors; as he swung the hookshot, he resembled a low-flying swift darting through the deadly fiery rain.
The armor made of iron and flesh under his command was swift, executing one impossible maneuver after another, and upon reaching the predetermined position, his bloodshot eyes locked onto what was to co.
The hookshot fired again, this ti hitting the descending fiery rain hidden behind the rain curtain, the frenzied burning, yet-to-fully ltdown of shattered tal, while another hookshot pierced the demon's soft flesh beneath the iron armor.
So seed to guess Lancelot's intentions, feeling incredulous, as it was beyond their expectations, yet the spectacle unfolded before their eyes, a phenonon called "miracle" born in this dire situation.
Lancelot was fully aware of the current circumstances; they had been forced into a corner. Although the demon's iron armor was breached, they no longer had the power to completely kill this demon saturated with Secret Blood.
No, they still possessed strength; the all-encompassing fiery rain was a most lethal sword, and Lancelot's task was to guide this deadly blade to hit the demon.
"Percival! Stop it!"
The sowhat immature voice roared like a lion.
It all happened almost instantaneously, Lancelot predicted the path of the rapidly moving fiery rain, while the hookshot embedded in the demon's body was swiftly retracted.
The machinery on his arm erupted with brilliant flas, the steam engine overloading, though the armor wielded terrifying power, altering the trajectory of the fiery rain in such a short ti was impossible. All Lancelot could do was use the hookshot to change its path, allowing it to strike at the vulnerable spot.
The hookshot tightened, a low sound of steel breaking echoed beside him, yet beneath the face armor, Lancelot's gaze remained fearless, soon followed by dazzling firelight sweeping a deadly arc through the rain curtain, the frenzied flas consuming everything.
High-temperature explosions erupted within the demon, without its iron armor protection, it was blasted apart, and the Armors of Original Sin nearby were also hurled by the impact of the explosion, waves of heat a few ters high surged like billowing seawater, flattening the surroundings.
The descending rain montarily halted, then resud, washing away the deadly heat.
A massive carcass stood at the burning core, amidst the dawn-like radiance, its skeleton and iron armor forming a jagged sculpture, like a twisted, deford dead tree, its vague grimness still visible.
All fell into silence with the demon's demise, until two Armors of Original Sin helped each other to their feet, their victorious roar surpassing the demons' howls.
The most dangerous demon had been dealt with, and beautiful hope magnified before people's eyes.
Cole stood dazed beneath the rain, seemingly in disbelief of all that had transpired, but soon he burst into chilling laughter, sharp like a baby's cry.
He suddenly felt at ease.
Yes, he couldn't pass on this information anymore. In history, there were more like him, carrying these terrifying secrets to their deaths. Yet, despite this, humanity survived, and in the subsequent era, descendants retraced their steps and rediscovered these hidden knowledge.
Those who ca later did even better; they pushed the boundaries of human understanding of this world forward continuously, until soday they unveil the blurred veil, truly perceiving the truth of the entire world.
Cole was no longer afraid, he could die unburdened, believing that not far in the future, soone would uncover all this, eradicate demons, ending the endless hatred propagated through ti.
The world would no longer have demons, nor this cruelty.
He continued laughing, realizing even death no longer seed intimidating.
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