It seems to have fallen into the deepest ocean, no matter how hoarse you struggle, your voice can only echo in this gloomy water, and no one can hear your existence, just like this, until the time when the memory is no longer there.

Lorenzo slowly opened his eyes, and there was a quiet street in front of him, where people in their dresses held each other's hands, smiled and enjoyed the silence in the moonlight.

There are poets singing and playing music in the streets, telling dusty stories.

Feeling tired, Lorenzo turned his head, his white robe draped in with a silver cross on his chest, and the people around him cast respectful glances at him.

"Falling asleep here is a cold. ”

A voice rang out, and the white-haired man sat beside him, with the vicissitudes of middle-aged people on his face, dressed in the same religious robe as Lorenzo, except that he was the bright red of the divinely favored one.

The passers-by on the side of the road gave him reverent looks, bowed their heads slightly, and whispered prayers in their mouths.

"Imam Lawrence?"

Looking at this familiar old man, Lorenzo had a strange mood for a while, as if he didn't expect to see him after many years.

"Wait...... This is the Emerald?"

He suddenly realized the difference in the situation, and stood up with his head covered, Lorenzo looked around, although his memory of the place was blurred, but he still found a sense of familiarity in the heavy buildings.

It was there, the place where he was born, and he had already left here, but it was not known how long it would take for Lorenzo to return to where he had been.

"You seem to have been dreaming so long that you almost forget about yourself. ”

Imam Lawrence seemed to see Lorenzo's confusion, he was a servant of the gods, the leader of the Demon Hunting Order, and he saw through Lorenzo's confusion at a glance.

"You mean...... Dreams?"

Lorenzo savored the word, still in disbelief.

"Yes, you are a person who has been baptized by the Divine Grace, and what you should have gained from that divine baptism, as I said then, those memories that do not belong to you will always follow you, some will be beneficial to you, and some will interfere with your judgment. ”

Lawrence has a faint smile, he always gives people the feeling of spring breeze, even without the red robe that symbolizes status, you will think that he is a sage at first sight.

"I've had dreams that have almost made it impossible for me to tell the difference between reality and illusion, and I'm as confused as you are, but time will tell, no matter what the problem. ”

"Like that hellish 42?"

Listening to Provost Lawrence's Chicken Soup for the Soul, Lorenzo remembered the story written in the depths of his memory, in the image medium called the movie.

The ultimate in the world is 42, a number that seems to make sense and seems meaningless, in short, Lorenzo can't understand all this, so he can only understand this memory as an absurd story.

He didn't know if the other beneficiaries had this, but at least Lorenzo had learned about the existence of the universe through his shattered memories.

"42? You mean something in your own memory. ”

Lawrence smiled kindly, every witcher has been baptized, and only the baptism of the gods can further specialize their will to resist the erosion of demons, but this will also bring some side effects, such as some memories that do not belong to them, no one knows where these things come from, and there is no definite answer to this within the Order.

"Probably...... So what have you ever dreamed of, Imam?"

Lorenzo asked lightly, he couldn't remember this ritual of favor, his memory was a blur, he only remembered that he had stepped into the shimmering pool, and then he had more memories and the ability to resist erosion.

"A lot, but I'm old and I've almost forgotten it. ”

I don't know if I really forgot, or if I don't want to answer, Imam Lawrence just dodged the question,

"Like you when you were young, I longed for the world of my memories, which was completely different from us, where there were no demons, no wars, peace, and everyone could get what he wanted. ”

Recounting the yellowed memories, he carried a bit of nostalgia and emotion.

"But then I walked for a long time, and set foot in many places in the world, but I couldn't find it, and then I realized that it was just a false bubble, and although it was sad, it was not bad to use it as a consolation. ”

Lorenzo nodded as if he didn't understand, looked at the familiar face, tried to look at it a few more times, and remembered him as he looked.

"Well, don't think so much, today is the great day, the Pope is waiting for us at the place of the seven hills, the execution of the old times is about to begin, and every demon hunter needs to be present. ”

Lawrence patted Lorenzo on the shoulder as he finished the conversation, and a sumptuous carriage slowly stopped in front of the two of them.

The door opened to greet the two of them, and without much thought, Lorenzo and Imam Lawrence got on board.

Outside of the Seven Hills, as the center of faith, the only things that can be tolerated there are believers and churches, so the basic circulation there depends entirely on the Philemerald, like a worm parasitic on the city.

The Tiber River flowed through it, and the carriages ran fast along the banks.

The carriage was so large that it was more of a mobile office than a carriage, and behind the elongated carriage were stacks of papers, which were organized by assistants on the table for review.

"Well, do you know that country to the north of us?"

Imam Lawrence, with thick lenses, looked at the document and suddenly asked.

"North, you mean Invig?"

The first thing Lorenzo remembered was the city, the city he had lived in his dreams for six years, and it was so real that it seemed as if Lorenzo had been there a few minutes earlier.

"Yes, after his war with Gaulinaro, steam technology has been improved again and again, and in order not to be targeted by us alone, the Queen Victoria generously shared steam technology with other nations, tying them to steam chariots.

Now steam technology has been on the rise in other countries, and even the mysterious Nine Summers have received their technical assistance. ”

Imam Lawrence put the file down, and he looked directly at Lorenzo in a cold tone.

"They were all afraid of the Church and tried to use steam technology to keep us away, and now we can maintain a delicate balance between each other, but no one knows what will happen next. ”

Lorenzo seemed to hear something out of the strings, and he asked tentatively.

"You...... What is the church going to do?"

"That's exactly what we're going to talk about tonight. ”

Imam Lawrence had a mysterious look on his face, with a sense of detachment.

"But tonight is not ......"

Lorenzo's eyes froze, and he suddenly remembered, he remembered what was going to happen tonight, the much-anticipated revelry.

"Isn't that a good day?"

Imam Lawrence smiled, his cold eyes hiding fanaticism.

"End an old era and open up a new one. ”

Lorenzo finally remembered what had happened that day, and the news that had been circulating in the Demon Hunting Order a few months ago that the Order had captured the last demon and that they would execute it tonight, thus announcing the end of the old era and the beginning of the new era.

"That'...... What about us?"

Lorenzo looked up at Imam Lawrence, his eyes filled with confusion that he had never seen before.

"If the last demon is dead, then is there still a need for us demon hunters to exist?"

He whispered, as if questioning Imam Lawrence, and as if asking himself about the final choice of this confused path.

It is precisely because of death that life is precious, and because of the horror of darkness, the light is full of hope.

Everything is in opposition to each other, so what about the witchers, and when the demons are gone, what do the witchers do?

"There will always be a way. ”

Imam Lawrence said with deep meaning.

"No matter how the times change, we will live tenaciously, just like a spark, as long as it has not been extinguished, it is enough to ignite again. ”

Rising murmurs and prayers filled Lorenzo's ears, and the vast and majestic city grew in magnification before his eyes, as if it were alive, and countless worshippers gathered in the square to sing praises of its existence, and the fanatical and evil breath gathered together, with a warm white mist, as if the city was also breathing together.

The tall Templar stood guard between every junction, his well-armoured armor and a sharp sword at his waist, his heavy and massive firebolt guarded by them in the chest, which could easily pierce through the steel plates when fired head-on.

Looking at the incomparably familiar everything, the carriage led him at a gallop forward, across the long red carpet, to the most sacred center.