The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 185

After the blizzard ceased, the fierce flames that had raged for hours finally began to subside, like the aftermath of a frenzied celebration following a ritual. The remaining ashes swirled through the air like black snow.

It seemed that everything had come to an end—new grudges and old feuds, honor and shame—all cast into the blazing fire, burnt to nothing.

The night sky grew deeper, as if a massive black entity was slowly descending. A giant whale of steel and machinery glided through the clouds, its sails slicing through the cumulus. Thick steam spewed out like breath, and the roar of engines thundered, heralding its arrival with the wind and rain.

"What's the Geiger index reading?"

"It's within stable ranges. Looks like Lawrence is dead."

The brief conversation took place in the command room. This time, Arthur was personally leading the team. In the dim space, various indicator lights illuminated his aged face.

He stood at the forefront of the command room, where the floor and front were covered by transparent composite glass. Through it, one could barely see the ground below—a raging inferno that showed no signs of dying down.

"Should we continue monitoring?"

The Red Falcon asked beside him.

Due to weight constraints, there wasn't much ammunition stored on the Dawn's Voyage. Its current military strategy leaned more towards covert transport.

"Yes, we need to keep waiting," Arthur said cautiously.

Lawrence's terror had deeply rooted itself in everyone's hearts. Arthur couldn't guarantee what might happen if Lawrence wasn't dead. If they descended rashly, they might step into the range of his corrosive attacks. All they could do was keep waiting, ensuring there were no abnormal changes in the situation.

"Should we deploy the old-century mechs for reconnaissance? The few first-generation mechs we have left are in the hold, ready to be deployed anytime," the Red Falcon suggested again.

"First-generation mechs?" Arthur frowned.

"It was Merlin's suggestion. The second-generation mechs are controllable, but against Lawrence, even a dying Lawrence, they are somewhat inadequate. So, the first-generation mechs, which had been sealed, were brought out. Galahad is on standby, ready to pilot one again."

The cold voice echoed. The Red Falcon knew very well what it meant to pilot a mech again. Since the last malfunction, Galahad had been severely corrupted. This would be his death mission, but he was the only one on the Dawn's Voyage with experience in piloting a first-generation mech.

"What about Lancelot?"

"Also a consumable. Merlin said he should be reserved for more important occasions."

The conversation fell silent, leaving only the sounds of machinery and the monotonous signals.

"Tonight's sacrifices have been enough. Forget it," Arthur sighed, feeling weary.

"So, what title should we give Lloyd?"

"Title?" Arthur was puzzled by the Red Falcon's words.

"Some kind of recognition? Like a knight's rank or something? Though it might not matter much to a dead man, it's still a form of acknowledgment," the Red Falcon continued, unsure how to express his thoughts.

"Not for his part as a demon hunter, but for Lloyd as a person who truly existed."

"I didn't expect you to think of that," Arthur said, surprised.