The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 69

From the very beginning, the Purification Unit had underestimated the dark power that lurked in the shadows. All of Ende Town had become a breeding ground for demons, and every resident was trapped in a dream, where they lost themselves to the beauty within, transforming into monsters called demons. Now, these monsters were swarming out.

Berol, fortified by the power of the Divine Armor, knew that delay was no longer an option. He hadn't even glimpsed the mysterious Holy Coffin. At this moment, all he could do was fight fiercely, leaving as many demons as possible behind.

His thermal sword slashed down with a burning crimson heat. Though the Purification Unit lacked sacred silver, their scientific methods achieved the same effect. The wounds inflicted by his blade were completely cauterized, with flesh charred and solid bones disintegrated under the intense heat, as if struck by flowing lava.

Demons burned to death, only for more to surge forward. Clad in Divine Armor, Berol now stood over two meters tall. To reduce the demons' advantage, the second-generation Divine Armor was fitted with numerous mechanical structures and plate armor. These heavy defenses now became his burden, making his movements somewhat clumsy.

Sharp claws scraped against his armor, sending up dazzling sparks and leaving scratches on the metal surface. Fortunately, the more delicate structures beneath were covered by the demons' flesh. Thanks to its resilient self-repair abilities, the armor's damage was superficial.

From the narrow slit in his helmet, Berol could see nothing but endless darkness rushing at him. He couldn't even tell which direction he was facing, and amidst the hundreds of demons, he could only swing his sword wildly.

It felt like walking into the ocean, where wave after wave of black tides struck him, making it harder to stand until he would eventually fall, swallowed entirely by the surging sea.

With each sword swing, the weapon grew heavier. Berol now understood the nightmarish sensation Galahad must have felt wearing the Divine Armor. The dreamscape, the demons, and his own armor—all three forces simultaneously eroded Berol's will. The green light on his armor, indicating his mental state, was flickering, seemingly about to turn red and signal his loss of control.

This was perhaps humanity's greatest tragedy—not only having to battle demons but also to fight against their own willpower.

The steam engine in his chest let out a low roar, and scalding steam burst from the brass pipes. With a surge of power, Berol grabbed a demon by the neck, crushing its fragile bones with a slight squeeze. The demon went limp, its muscles twitching oddly as Berol flung it away, knocking over several more oncoming demons.

The tide of demons continued. It felt as if he were standing on a rising tide, the seawater inching up his body, pushing those haunting memories onto the shore.

Gradually, the killing became almost instinctual. His thermal sword emitted its final burst of heat before a demon bit through its connecting cable. Even without its thermal function, the sword remained a heavy greatsword, capable of smashing the demons with pure kinetic force.

No sophisticated techniques were needed on this battlefield—only efficient killing. Berol swung the greatsword with all his might, like a windmill, shredding every demon in his path until his thoughts grew muddled and his grip on the sword loosened. The greatsword fell to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Under his helmet, Berol's face was deathly pale. When he donned the Divine Armor, tiny electrodes had pierced from the armor's spine into his flesh, linking his human will to the demonic body. Initially, he could maintain his sanity, but as time passed, his will crumbled like a sandcastle facing the rising tide, powerless to resist.