The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 80

There is a moment in everyone's life when you find yourself engulfed in darkness and despair, and suddenly, someone kicks open a door, flooding your world with light.

For Eve, this was that moment.

The Glorious was racing across the earth, its massive body leaving deep tracks in the ground. Blazing white flames roared along its path, making it resemble a dragon of white fire, bringing a destructive inferno in its wake.

But this was not the end. The Glorious was hurtling forward with the momentum of its derailed speed. As it neared the lighthouse, its speed began to slow, and the horde of demons surrounding it took notice, moving to encircle it.

"Attention everyone, eliminate anything that moves, except us," Lloyd's voice crackled through the channel.

On the pitch-black carriage, armored panels rose, countless gun barrels protruded, and a series of flashes erupted from both sides of the train, suppressing the oncoming horde of demons.

This was the triumph of the industrial age. With a simple pull of the trigger, deadly iron was unleashed. When this iron rain gathered, even the most terrifying demons could be brought to their knees.

With the blazing white flames, everyone began the countdown in their hearts.

Three, two, one!

Each person grabbed onto whatever they could to steady themselves. As the countdown ended, the Glorious crashed headlong into the horde of demons. Steel crushed flesh, white flames ignited and fell, and countless severed limbs and entrails battered the cold carriage, with the stench of blood permeating every corner.

"Brake!" Lloyd's command echoed through the channel. The driver, although aware of the plan, couldn't help but feel a chill of terror at Lloyd's audacity.

He yanked the lever hard. The emergency brake gears locked the speeding machinery in place. The train, confined to the tracks and unable to turn, executed a strange maneuver under Lloyd's ingenious plan. The outer armor fell away one by one, revealing the fully armed units from Berhans.

Black muzzles extended and unleashed a ferocious barrage on the encircling demons.

These were railway guns, a legacy of the Glorious War. Utilizing the advantage of railways, trains dragged artillery, becoming a mobile fortress of cannon fire, presenting a significant obstacle to the Gallunar invasion.

But unlike in the Glorious War, the cannons had been miniaturized by the Mechanical Institute. Although this reduced their firepower, it allowed for more weapons to be mounted.

The black muzzles spewed flames several feet long, and dozens of kilograms of shells tore through the demons' bodies, detonating violently at their endpoints.

This was a one-sided bombardment. Using the recoil of the railway gun cluster, the Glorious performed an eerie drift, then stood like a wall between the lighthouse and the demons. As it slowly came to a halt, hot steam hissed from the machinery's crevices, more armored panels rose, and countless gun barrels pointed to either side of the train.

Fire at will.

In an instant, the world was filled with deafening roars. Thunderous explosions shattered the demons that swarmed in. This was the victory of the Industrial Revolution. Each demon's death was a sacrifice on the altar of steel to the god of industry.

It was a grand symphony. Heavy shells fell with enchanting clinks, the pungent smell of gunpowder filled the air, and the rhythmic clatter of machinery loaded one steel shell after another into the breeches.

Lloyd stood atop the train, the muzzle flashes illuminating his face. His Winchester fired continuously, creating a curtain of white-hot bullets as he moved with a dancer's grace.

Centuries ago, people had to build defensive lines, suffering countless casualties to slay demons. But in today's technological age, with the right positioning and sufficient firepower, no amount of demons could challenge humanity's place at the top of the food chain.

Humans no longer needed to live in fear.

A new era had arrived, yet relics of the old still tried to reclaim their former glory. They swarmed like ants, braving the torrents of steel and gunpowder, leaving blood and fire in their wake, carving a grim path.

"Lloyd! Something's wrong!" Eve's panicked voice came through the channel. Lloyd calmly reloaded and fired, then asked, "What is it?"

"The tide... it's rising!" Eve, positioned at the lighthouse, could see the dark blue waters surging, steadily advancing towards the battlefield.

Lloyd's excitement waned. He remembered the map's markings indicating the tides' influence on the land. He wasn't concerned about the water itself, but what might emerge from it.

Sure enough, he heard more wails amid the tides. An overwhelming horde of demons rode the waves, an almost suffocating sight.

This was the final battle of the night. The hidden entity did not want anyone to reach the sacred coffin and had stopped concealing its forces.

"Do we have enough ammunition?" Lloyd asked.

The difference between demons and humans was that demons would fight to the last.

"Only enough for a short while. Once that new horde arrives, we won't be able to maintain the defense line," came the voice of Burlow. The firepower of the Glorious maintained a precarious balance with the demons. They couldn't approach the train, and the ammunition reserves were sufficient to kill them. But the incoming horde from the sea would tip the scales in the worst possible way.

"And Lloyd, have you ever seen demons like these?" Eve's voice trembled as she watched the colossal shadows rising from the sea, trailing foam and swarms of fish and shrimp.

"Doesn't look familiar," Lloyd replied. He, too, saw the massive forms, impossible to miss. These were giant demons, lumbering from the sea with heavy strides.

Secret blood began to surge. Black iron emerged from beneath his skin, as the divine armor slowly encased Lloyd. He stepped down from the carriage, gripping his sword tightly.

It seemed tonight would not end so simply. But suddenly, he noticed a change in the light. The entire area seemed to darken.

There was no time to ponder. The giant demon required his attention. Without defeating it, everyone would die. Human technology was designed for human wars, not for such enormous monsters.

Suddenly, a clear sound of wind roared from above, from the depths of the night sky.

Lloyd looked up and saw a colossal whale moving through the clouds, casting a monstrous silhouette in the gleaming light. Then a voice came through the channel.

"We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed."

The voice was so calm, almost devoid of emotion, a detached prayer, like a mechanical recitation.

In the endless sky, heavy machinery creaked, opening sealed doors. Wind rushed into the cabin as the knight finished his prayer, eyes fixed on the promised battlefield.

Behind him, countless soldiers were fully armed, their red cloaks with iron plates flapping in the wind. Chains connected them, and red communicators turned green one by one, signaling readiness.

"The Dawn-bound has arrived on the battlefield, beginning descent."

"Night Owl joining the battle sequence."

"Phoenix joining the battle sequence."

"Lancelot joining the battle sequence."

"..."

Each voice was like a bullet being loaded. The knight slowly raised his head, then leaped down. In the storm, his ancient divine armor spread wide, blocking out the sky.