The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 122

The wailing sounds twisted and turned, weaving a sorrowful melody in the icy cold wind.

The actions from Old Dunling's side were much swifter than anyone had anticipated. After all, the royal district lay just beyond the manor, and the armed royal guards were the most intimidating force around. Under orders, they were quickly mobilized—not to attack the manor but to seal it off. No one could enter, and no one could leave.

Scarlet cloaks formed a crimson line of defense, with finely crafted weapons pointed at the burning manor.

Tonight, the true executors had arrived under the cover of darkness, accompanied by the rumble of a train. They avoided the public eye, waging war in the shadows. The Purging Unit's response team had arrived, and their thermite rifles added fuel to the burning blaze.

The heavy gunfire was relentless. No one could understand where so many demons had come from. According to the Observer System, such a large group of demons in Old Dunling should have been detected immediately, not after they began their assault.

Even more alarming was the sheer number of demons. While not as massive as the End Town operation, the observed numbers indicated a continuous influx of demons, their origin unknown.

Most survivors were sheltered, though 'sheltered' merely meant hiding in their homes with the doors locked. Soldiers outside were slowly advancing, while inside the manor, chaos reigned.

Bright searchlights cut through the darkness, casting the shadow of a whale-like figure drifting behind deep clouds, watching the ground with luminous eyes.

Horner walked through the burning castle. This man, usually as rigid as a wooden statue, seemed to have found a new strength called emotion. His perpetually stiff face twisted into a grimace.

"I did pretty well, didn't I, Mentor Lawrence?" Horner whispered, though no one answered.

He looked around, seeming to remember that Mentor Lawrence was no longer by his side. Tonight was a grand ball, and everyone had their own partners.

But it was a pity. This was the most perfect and brilliant moment of Horner's life. He performed his heart out on stage, but no audience could witness it.

His eyes showed disappointment, but as the wails of people echoed, it seemed to fuel him, and he began to run slowly.

This was the last name on the list. Horner hadn't wanted to kill so many people, but Mentor Lawrence demanded it. That mysterious mentor sought something in the chaos, though their goals differed.

Horner only wanted to kill the person who caused his tragedy—the one who turned him into this tragedy.

He was just an ordinary repairman, aiming for nothing more than a full belly each day, yet someone wouldn't leave him alone. He didn't even know that person.

Horner's mentor was the same—a repairman who took pity on a wandering Horner and adopted and taught him.

In the story, the mentor was a good man, but he met a bad end, dying in a factory accident, falling into a furnace. Horner couldn't even retrieve his body; after all, halting the machines for even a minute cost a lot of money.

A nauseating sensation rose in his throat, and he stopped, retching violently. His vision blurred briefly, but he quickly composed himself, forcefully suppressing all pain.

Fiery bullets sliced through the air—Horner had never seen such weapons. The bullets burned intensely, piercing through steel and wood, incinerating a demon entirely.

The Purging Unit soldiers breached the manor gates, advancing methodically, shooting every demon in sight.

Mentor Lawrence had mentioned a strange force within Old Dunling, and these soldiers were likely it.