The cold wind and snow engulfed Lorenzo, leaving a thin layer of white snow on his clothes. A massive fracture appeared on the ice in front of him, and the shattered crowd struggled within it, like criminals drowning in their sins.
The man stood up, shook off the ice and snow from his body, and stepped forward on the floating ice, casually stepping on those withered hands or kicking a loathso head hard.
"Do you want to try? It's very relieving."
In this hellish scene, the man was still having fun.
Lorenzo shook his head, refusing this damned way of entertainnt. He looked at the hideous faces devoid of humanity and asked.
"Is this it, then?"
"Part of it, this is just its probing. Even after being imprisoned for so long, it is tirelessly testing the strength of its cage, waiting for the mont when the iron chains show a gap."
His gaze penetrated the dark blue seawater, reaching the deepest part of the entangled iron chains, beneath the dim seabed.
"The real it is hiding there, biding its ti."
The man turned around, patting his chest as he looked at Lorenzo.
"But don't worry, with here, as the Gatekeeper keeping watch over the demon. A Prison Guard is always stronger than the prisoner, is it not?"
He was always so confident, and because of his confidence, he died.
"Also, Lorenzo, you should leave now."
The man finally put away his smile, his expression becoming solemn.
"...Do you know what that thing is?"
Lorenzo asked one last ti. If the man was also a solitary soul living in his own mories, there was a strange connection between them, then perhaps the man had known about what Lorenzo was seeing.
The man nodded, but said nothing, with a strange smile.
"What is it?"
Lorenzo asked again.
That thing, the one causing everything that is happening now, the Holy Coffin.
Everything Lorenzo experienced stemd from that mysterious object, and now Lorenzo was only a thread away from it.
"It's fine not to know, after all, you didn't have the qualifications to participate in that feast back then."
The fragnted images gradually pieced together. Without needing any answers, Lorenzo's earliest dreams were now explained, with his conversation with Dean Lawrence, the invitation from the Pope, the celebration of the Divine Birthday, and the demise of the last demon.
That wasn't Lorenzo's dream; it was the dream of the man before him. The wills of the two beca intertwined, only to et in the present day within the [gap].
The confusion was resolved, and Lorenzo looked at the man.
"It truly is a painful mory. On that night, I lost everything."
He whispered nostalgically, but soon, the fragile look disappeared, and he spoke sharply.
"That thing is its remnant, Lorenzo. You should know what that ans, right."
He reached out and patted Lorenzo's shoulder, and the aura of the Demon Hunter returned to him, after many years.
It was like a coronation ceremony in this forgotten desolate place.
Lorenzo's pupils narrowed, seemingly surprised by this result, but it made sense. The cold blood boiled once again, he couldn't tell whether it was a sense of mission or the desire for revenge, he just felt there was fire burning, needing to be released.
"This... is also the reason you dragged into the [gap], isn't it?"
This solitary ghost hidden within his mories had noticed it, and finally t him as the connection deepened. This wasn't a moving reunion, rely the start of another hunt.
The man nodded, hiding all the touching emotions in his heart. He once again beca that cold figure, speaking with authority and gravity.
"Lorenzo Hols, our task isn't over yet, the Night of the Holy Arrival isn't over yet! Your final duty has co!"
His eyes filled with madness and hatred, the terrifying frenzy made even those drowning in lant feel fear.
He spoke as if it was an oath.
"Kill it, throw it into the furnace, burn it to ashes, sink it into the deep sea, erase all traces of its existence so that it may be forever forgotten!"
This was the Gatekeeper's hatred, as though a spectral soul, continuously accumulating that emotion called vengeance, never dissipating.
He leaned in slightly, whispering softly into Lorenzo's ear, like a child's dream murmur.
"You haven't forgotten, have you?"
Recalling the little poem engraved on the Winchester, Lorenzo recited softly.
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
"Fury, fury!"
"Rage against the fading of the light."
The man then smirked mischievously and kicked Lorenzo into the icy water, countless hands seed to see hope, clinging to him, attempting to drag him into the deep darkness.
The suffocating cold overwheld all of Lorenzo's senses, the isolation and chill enveloped him completely, as if cut off from the world, until a scorching burn stabbed his body, then the man's voice resounded like a curse in his ear.
"Go back to hell."
And so the world was filled with light.
...
It was a boring slaughter, Ed holding Lorenzo's head, this Demon Hunter seeming dead from before, ceased all actions, allowing Ed to attack.
Perhaps because of that dream, it made Ed even angrier, this Demon Hunter's retirent life was indeed very pleasant, so good that even this simple erosion couldn't be resisted, truly a disgrace to Demon Hunters.
The temperature in his palm began to rise, like slowly killing a small animal, Ed tried to burn Lorenzo's brain into ashes directly, while the surrounding demons anxiously waited, longing for Lorenzo's flesh like beasts awaiting feeding, eagerly anticipating their master's orders.
Under the shrouding light, Ed seed to still hold out hope, wishing Lorenzo would wake up, otherwise, it would be like torturing a corpse, utterly aningless.
As ti ticked by, Ed suddenly laughed, anger completely clouding his mind, angry with a corpse.
Reaching out, he needed to make a final confirmation, Ed was going to determine which Demon Hunter branch Lorenzo belonged to, according to the Alchemy Inscription on his back. The burning hand reached for the clothes, just as he was about to tear off the disguise, the burning hand was grasped firmly.
Suddenly looking up, a pair of equally scorching eyes t his gaze.
It was a thunderous assault, so fast that Ed could only see the white-hot light trailing, the burning flas then were cleaved by roaring winds, the tal covering the body shattered in sequence, and crimson blood followed the trajectory of the blade, splattering in the air.
The sharp Nail Sword reflected in Lorenzo's pupils, the next mont the Winchester fired, the heavy bullet hit the fla, high temperatures might lt steel, but they couldn't negate the bullet's kinetic energy.
This was a setup of preditated combo, Ed lost his balance under the sword and gun attacks, and Lorenzo clung to him like a ghost.
But Ed wouldn't give Lorenzo any more chances for another strike, the burning Purifying Fla rose again, like a fierce sun touching the ground, such extre heat would force anyone to retreat, yet Lorenzo charged forward as if he didn't see it, then the pitch-black blade pierced through the burning flas.
Ed looked incredulously at the Demon Hunter before him, the pitch-black Iron Feather covered his body, protecting him like armor, hot white flas surged from between the feathers, then with Lorenzo's firm grasp, the silver-white Nail Sword too was covered in that darkness.
It was a power he had never seen before, no matter which branch of the Demon Hunters, such a thing had never existed.
In the next mont, more Black Swords impaled him, pinning him to the ground like executioner nails.
[Warning, Secret Blood Awakening 30%, critical value reached.]
[Silver Binding Bolt beginning to disintegrate.]
[According to the Sword Scabbard Treaty, you have three hundred seconds to act. After three hundred seconds, await retrieval by the Holy Hall Knight Order.]
A damned voice sounded in his mind, Lorenzo seed very displeased with it, freeing a hand to knock forcefully on his smoking head burnt by Ed.
He then looked at Ed, who wore a face of horror, and suddenly beca a bit curious.
"Your Silver Binding Bolt must be as noisy as mine right now, right?"
Like asking a friend about sothing mundane, Lorenzo said and swung the pitch-black sword again to slash down fiercely.
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