The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 34

A new era had dawned, where the relentless wheels of progress crushed everything from the old world beneath them.

It seemed as if countless birds screamed in unison, gathering into massive flocks that danced and circled above the downtown area.

The piercing sound of iron whistles echoed intermittently, as soldiers blew them with force, their iron-clad boots pounding the damp ground, seizing every street and square as commanded by those sounds.

The purification of the catacombs had entered its final stage. Tons of oil poured in from various entrances, igniting a raging inferno that blazed fiercely. Beneath it, firearms discharged continuously, their thunderous roars echoing.

Endless shadows raced through the inferno from the other end, carrying with them inescapable murmurs and wails. Despite the flames and bullets, they always returned from the abyss of that dark nightmare.

"Increase firepower!" Beralo bellowed, as the black steam-powered armored train raised its cannons, rows of welded-together guns unleashing tremendous force.

The Nightingale murmured prayers, his deep voice resonating through everyone's communicators. Amidst the spreading sound, soldiers occasionally emitted piercing alarm signals, prompting Beralo to skillfully raise his gun and shoot tranquilizers at them.

These tranquilizers were products of the Mechanical Institute, with electrodes buried beneath the flesh. Direct current could stimulate the central brain, typically used in mental illness treatment. However, modified by the Purification Mechanism, they became a safeguard against the demonic entities.

When soldiers reached a certain level of nerve contamination, the electrodes discharged to forcibly interrupt their descent into madness. This was to ensure their clarity amidst the crisis. If necessary, the interference from the electrodes also facilitated Beralo in dispatching them if they truly succumbed to madness.

This conflict, stemming from the old era, persisted with blood and pain. Despite the Purification Mechanism's current advantage, casualties occurred due to relentless interception.

Blood streamed down the hot barrels, most soldiers' hands already shaken by the recoil of bullets, despite the protection of gloves. Their condition continued to deteriorate.

Finally, at a certain moment, the readings on the Gage Counter stabilized, indicating that the demons within the catacombs had ceased their transformations, or perhaps Galahad had slain them.

Thus, amidst the roaring flames, heavy footsteps resounded from the other side of the inferno.

"It's Galahad!" The Nightingale exclaimed with some joy. Delving into hell was an act of immense blessing, with each return bringing profound favor.

As he moved forward to greet, Beralo intercepted him, his eyes behind the mask showing a complex expression. He demanded through the communicator, "Galahad, I need confirmation of your consciousness! Say something! Quickly!"

The silver barrel pointed directly at the figure within the flames, fingers tightly on the trigger. This time, it wasn't tranquilizers being fired, but solid bullets of iron and gunpowder.

"What are you doing, Beralo!"

Seeing Beralo's demeanor, the Nightingale grew angry. Beralo responded fiercely, "This is protocol! Galahad! Answer me!"

He roared into the communicator again, but besides the occasional crackle of electricity, there was nothing, an eerie calm like the dead sea.

Answer quickly!

Beralo felt an unprecedented sense of urgency. Galahad still had time, time to respond.

As long as he responded now, even if it was a vague or unclear utterance, but in the end, there was nothing. The allotted time had ended, and sorrow filled Beralo's eyes.