From the very beginning, the Purification chanism underestimated the power from the darkness. The whole Ende Town beca a breeding ground for Demons, all the residents sank into that dream, transford into monsters known as Demons amidst wonderful things, and now they surge forth en masse.
The power from the Armor imbued Bola. The so-called delay was no longer feasible, he hadn't even had the chance to see the mysterious Holy Coffin. At this mont, it seed all he could do was to fight courageously and leave more Demons here.
The Thermic Sword slashed down with a scorching crimson. Although the Purification chanism didn't have Holy Silver, they achieved the effect of Holy Silver through scientific ans. The wound inflicted was fully scorched, the flesh and blood utterly necrotized, and even the sturdy bones were destroyed under that high temperature, as if struck by flowing lava.
Demons burned as they died, only to be promptly replaced by more Demons surging forward. After donning the Armor, Bola's stature reached over two ters. To lessen the Demon density, the Second Generation Armor incorporated many chanical structures and plate armor, which now beca his shackles, making his movents appear sowhat clumsy.
Sharp claws cut through his Armor, sparking bursts of dazzling sparks and scratches on the tal surface. Fortunately, the more precise structures were covered by the Demons' flesh, and with strong self-healing capabilities, the damage to the Armor was rely superficial.
Through the gaps in his Face Armor, Bola couldn't see anything, only endless darkness charging towards him. He couldn't even tell directions, and amidst hundreds or thousands of Demons, all he could do was swing his blade futilely.
The sensation was akin to walking towards the sea, with wave upon wave of black tides battering against you, making it increasingly difficult to stand, until you collapse and are completely engulfed by the surging seawater.
With another sword swing, the feeling grew heavier. It was then that Bola understood how Galahad felt when he donned the Armor; it truly was a nightmare of an experience.
The dream, the Demons, and the Armor on his body—all three forces eroded Bola's will simultaneously. The green light indicating ntal state on the Armor had already started flickering, seemingly about to switch to uncontrolled red the next second.
This is perhaps the sorrow of humanity, having not only to fight Demons but also their own willpower.
The steam engine at his chest emitted a low growl, and scorching steam burst forth from the brass pipes. With trendous output, Bola seized a Demon's neck, and with little effort, the fragile bones snapped in his hand.
The Demon hung limply in his hand, as if all strength had left it, its muscles twitching grotesquely, before Bola tossed it aside, knocking over several more charging Demons.
The rising tide kept surging, as if he were standing on a flood-tide beach, the seawater gradually covering his body, pushing those hallucinated mories ashore together.
Gradually, the slaughter beca almost instinctual. The Thermic Sword emitted its last high temperature before the connected cable was bitten off by a Demon. Yet even without thermal energy, it was still a heavy Giant Sword that could easily crush them with the montum of its swings.
There was no longer any need for tactics; all that mattered on this battlefield was efficient Demon killing. So Bola swung the Giant Sword with effort, like a windmill, shredding all the Demons in the domain, until his thoughts turned chaotic, the grip on the sword slackened, and the Giant Sword plumted to the ground, raising an endless cloud of dust.
Beneath his Face Armor, Bola's face turned deathly pale. At the mont he donned the Armor, tiny electrodes thrust from the spine of the Armor, embedding themselves beneath Bola's flesh, linking human will with the Demonic body.
At first, Bola could remain rational, but as ti passed, his will gradually collapsed, like a sandcastle built on the beach. When the tide ca in, he had no strength to resist.
Borhans' mories kept flashing back, like the end of life, standing in front of a grave recalling all past events.
Bola saw his siblings, his miserly father, and also his grandfather.
That was the elderly man, still full of vitality despite his advanced age, who raised Bola. Initially, Bola didn't want to co to Old Dunling, after all, Borhans was his hotown, where everything was familiar. Yet one day his grandfather found him, saying he had grown up, from a child to a man.
He said Bola should see the wider world, maybe suffer injuries, or perhaps et many enemies, and possibly encounter an accursed love. But whatever ca, it was all part of the experience, and that was enough.
So Bola ca to Old Dunling and attained everything he had now. If possible, his retirent life should be to relocate back to Borhans, lying on the familiar green adows, watching the dark clouds billowing from the industrial area, the blood-red sunset making everything chaotically enchanting.
Unfortunately, he might never return, so he wrote a letter to his family at the station.
Ah... damn it!
Thinking of that letter, beneath his Face Armor, Bola mustered so spirit, enduring the pain.
That damn letter was still on him. If he died like this, who would discover it?
The sting from the electrodes at his back cleared his head slightly, and then the tallic box on the back of the Armor suddenly popped open. This was an accessory added after donning the Armor, as the outlined latches opened one by one, several sword hilts and gun grips appeared from the box.
This was a portable armory. The designers of the Armor initially intended this item to be consumable, be it Knights and Armor, or the weapons within.
Drawing out a broad blade like a bleak thunderstorm, it was a plain blade that needed no excessive design, just sharpness and hardness sufficed.
The steam engine erupted with a scorching orange-red light, followed by a massive surge of steam rushing out of the cooling pipes. The high-temperature gas collided with the cold blade, instantly condensing into countless tiny droplets that, together with the armor's power, sliced the demons in half, tearing open a scarlet curtain.
Strength filled the body, and it felt amazing.
It seed... rging with the warm tides like this wasn't bad either, drifting along, shaking the storm...
Exhausted eyelids drooped powerlessly, blood splattered into the gaps of the face armor, making the vision blurry and blood-red. Bola felt a weariness he had never experienced before, as if he could return to that familiar place just by closing his eyes.
Suddenly, it seed that there was a thunderclap in his ear.
"Wake up! Bola!"
Among the mixed screams, soone shouted at him, and the next mont, a blood-stained, handso face appeared in his view. Her hair was spreading out, and her cloak was battered, but she had no wounds.
Blue Jade tightly gripped the protruding parts of the armor, like a sleek leopard cat, crouching on Bola's shoulder.
It was as if soone drowning in the deep sea, at the last mont before consciousness faded, held onto the hand reaching down from the surface, clutching it tightly, refusing to let go.
In that instant, Bola thought of many things, such as he still couldn't die. If he died, Blue Jade would be helpless against such a massive group of demons, not to ntion the soldiers behind him in the Radiant.
It seed as if strength was reinjected into the armor, and the slow actions beca swift again. The sharp blade cut through everything in front like a at grinder. Blue Jade danced as if on a knife's edge; no matter how violently Bola moved, she maintained a peculiar balance, then fired shots.
Blue Jade looked at the eyes behind the face armor's gaps and shouted at him again.
"Bola! Get the Radiant moving!"
As long as they got the Radiant moving, they could break through the demon encirclent, possibly rushing all the way to the source of the pollution and completing this mission.
As if burning through the last bit of kindling, Bola gave a red-eyed response through actions.
His arm reached for the backup weapon rack and took down a giant firearm. Without any hesitation, he directly fired at the demon group ahead, pulling the trigger, as if opening the gates of Hell.
One could only hear a montary thunderous sound; perched on his shoulder, Blue Jade saw a constantly advancing white light, followed by explosive light filling her vision, the sudden flash montarily blinding her.
It was the dragon from the myth unleashing its dragon breath; the wandering sea of fire released from the heavy firearm. Liquid tal and continually combustible materials directly covered everything in sight, spreading like flapping wings of fire, scorching all life while leaving a burning path on the ground.
"What... is this?"
Even Blue Jade was amazed by this violent great power, while Bola's weak voice ca from beneath the face armor beside her.
"A masterpiece from the chanical Institute, an armor-piercing firearm nad 'Dragon Breath'."
This is a derivative of the Second Generation Armor. After all, a knight shouldn't just have armor, but also a gun capable of piercing all armors.
This weapon, nad the armor-piercing firearm, can only be used by Armored Knights. The reason is not just its size, which exceeds normal human control, but also because of its lethality.
This strike cleared a blank space on the battlefield; the ground was on fire, and Bola, carrying Blue Jade, stood within the blaze. No demon besides him could tread there.
Releasing his hand, the Dragon Breath Armor-Piercing Firearm slipped from his grip, and Blue Jade glanced lightly. In her view, the weapon had already lost its original form as a firearm, and one could say that the instant it fired, the massive power had caused it to explode.
Although these research institutions are known for madn, they never develop untrustworthy things. Just like this firearm; during the developnt stage, those madn realized that excessive power would cause explosions, but they didn't want to lose power. So, these clever chanicians transford the weapon into a one-ti consumable.
Shaking his arm to shed the molten tal splattered on him from the explosion, Bola took another firearm from the weapon rack, then dashed along the burning path towards the front of the Radiant.
Feeling the scorching temperature and the battlefield akin to Hell, Blue Jade clung tightly to Bola. Even in such life-threatening circumstances, she unexpectedly smiled; this feeling was truly fascinating. When you realize your death is imminent, you ironically beco fearless of death.
Beneath was the galloping knight and the burning trail, surrounded by the wailing demons. Blue Jade felt like a Valkyrie traversing the battlefield.
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