The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 67

They were enemies like the sea itself, equipped with fangs and claws, emerging ominously from the deepest darkness.

Edd stood atop the high ground like a god descended to Earth, his body ablaze with pure, cleansing flames. The alchemical inscriptions, named after the angels from the Gospel, had various effects when combined with secret blood. These powers, known as Potentials, were the culmination of alchemy and secret blood.

Edd possessed the Potential granted by the Michael inscription, an extreme flame that could ignite anything, embodying the fierce angel. As Edd burned, the entire world seemed to tremble. Demons surged from their rigid flesh, hissing and craving blood and flesh, crashing against Lloyd and the distant Radiance like a rising tide.

Those demons were once the residents of Endtown, now completely corrupted by their cursed dream. They appeared like Edd's soldiers, roaring as they advanced from his burning light.

"So tragic..."

Lloyd watched it all quietly, feeling neither fear from the endless demons nor dread from Edd's power. Instead, he felt an overwhelming sadness. Neither the revival of the demons nor Edd's hatred could move him—only the sorrowful rebellion.

Demon hunters and demons were always mortal enemies, but now Edd stood among them, untouched. Lloyd didn't know what power made this possible, but he knew the demons had returned, rendering the sacrifices of the Night of Descent meaningless.

He felt sadness, and anger.

"I... am not a traitor. I've always fought demons to the death!"

Lloyd roared in fury, his flaming sword slashing through the darkness. Bright white shadows cleaved a path through the black tide, scattering ashen flakes like snow in the wind.

The sharp blade pierced the demon-filled sea, and Lloyd's vision was dominated by twisted figures. He slashed with abandon, striding forward.

He had to kill Edd.

The hunter had crossed Lloyd's line, and those who crossed it must die.

But the next second, pure white light descended like a falling star. Edd's burning blade, carrying intense heat, came down with holy fire and boiling silver.

"You're the real traitor, siding with them!"

Winchester's roar echoed as his bullets struck Edd at close range, only to melt into molten iron. That was Michael's power, the ultimate heat, like a walking sun.

The blinding light blurred Lloyd's vision, but he stubbornly swung his sword. His secret blood began to awaken; he could do it.

But then a burning hand gripped Lloyd's throat, the intense heat suffocating him instantly.

"No, you have no idea what I've been through."

The burning demon whispered, ignoring the sword strikes.

"Everyone celebrated the end of the demon era, but because of the Night of Descent, the Pope issued Secret Order No. 13... Can you understand how I felt? We thought we were heroes, returning to the Seven Hills with hope, only to be ambushed by the Templar Knights!"

Endless fire washed over Lloyd as he whimpered in pain, trying to stab Edd with his sword. But under the extreme heat, the sword reddened and shattered like melting ice.

"It was a nightmare. Everyone died, trapped within the Seven Hills. They poured oil and rained bullets on us from the walls."

Scarlet eyes stared at Lloyd as Edd whispered.

"Do you know how Michael died?"

The voice hammered at Lloyd's heart. He knew who Michael was—the strongest demon hunter who earned the honor of an angel's name. It was both a code and an honor.

"He burned his secret blood, surpassing the critical level. It was like daylight falling to earth. Thanks to him, I escaped the Seven Hills, but he died there, his bones covered in molten silver, like a sculpture."

Edd's grip tightened, the sound of searing flesh echoing in the air—a slow execution, venting Edd's hatred.

"We were hunters, but now we're prey. They burned every captured hunter, bodies and secret blood consumed in the flames. Only I escaped. Everyone else died meaninglessly."

With his anger, Lloyd's sharp sword burst forth again. Grasping the shattered blade, he broke free at the last moment, his body smoking as he coughed in pain. He had almost been incinerated by Edd.

He retreated, slashing at the ethereal flames, stirring the glowing air.

More demons pounced, and Lloyd, heavily wounded, struggled to fight back. He plunged his broken sword into a demon's head, then twisted it down its gaping maw.

Watching Lloyd's battered form, Edd approached slowly, the burning continuing. Demons turned to ash just by nearing him.

"I'll make you feel their pain, purifying you with holy fire."

The Templar Knights lacked secret blood but were numerous as ants. Many hunters died of exhaustion, their bodies and secret blood burning in the pyres.

"Or... tell me what happened, and maybe I'll let you die easily."

Amid the unbearable flames, Lloyd sensed a hint of pleading. He smiled.

Edd had always been like this, driven by a single answer about the Night of Descent. Why had they become the church's enemies? Why had his friends died inexplicably? Why wouldn't Lloyd reveal the truth?

Like an obstinate child, he sought only that answer, one that could stop him.

One answer could end it all, but Lloyd knew he couldn't speak. Like the insidious corruption of demons, the truth could only live in his memories. Speaking it would free it, spreading like a virus.

It was a deadlock, resolved only by death.

Amidst a roar of hatred, everything blurred.

Lloyd felt warmth—not the furnace-like heat, but a soothing warmth like a bath at home. He grew wary; it was a nightmare illusion, invading his will during the battle with Edd.

The burning battlefield vanished, and so did the surging demons. Lloyd shivered, falling from a chair.

He looked up at a clear night sky, stars shining brightly, standing alone on a windswept ice plain, only a damned chair beside him.

Damn it! Damn it!

He pounded the ice in anger, wiping away snow to see his pathetic reflection in the dark surface.

How could he be invaded by a dream now? He had to wake up!

Panic gripped Lloyd. He might already be dead, killed by Edd while he pounded the ground.

Wake up!

He tried to draw his sword to kill himself, but his familiar weapon wasn't there.

What was going on?

Lloyd had trained for dream anomalies. In a dream, a hunter had an advantage—it was their dream, and with strong will, they were the creator. That's why Lloyd had easily summoned weapons in the first dream.

But now, he couldn't. Everything was rigid, leaving him alone in a desolate world.

"You look pathetic."

A familiar voice startled Lloyd. At the ice plain's edge, a man walked slowly under the full moon.

Lloyd paused, realizing the truth.

"This isn't a dream... Where is this?"

The man smiled, arms open in welcome.

"Welcome to the Gap."