He descended the mountain, and the villagers gathered to see the new arrival.

"Are you here for the Holy Pastor?" A very young man asked him.

Lucian nodded.

"So stranger, hallelujah." He laughs. "You've worked hard."

In Lucian's memory, there was no town that could match the beauty of New Eden. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted into his nose. Fiddlers in the street play music, and young girls dance to it. There was a refreshing singing voice in the honey wine house, which was not tainted with the tyrannical madness of the Great West at all. The people he passed by greeted him, gave him food and water, and asked him where he had come from and where he was going.

The devil in his body was roaring, but Lucian could suppress it in broad daylight. Moreover, there is a power here that calms him down. It's been a long, long time since he's experienced it.

"No one here is afraid of death." Someone said. Lucian turned his head to see a kind old man. He was dressed in a modest clerical robe, and his decrepit eyes flashed with a youthful look. "Fear of death means fear of life. We are very comfortable with death, and when we are alive, we don't care about the end when we don't know when it will come. ”

Lucian liked the way the old man spoke. His tone was soft and airy, like a chant.

"I don't know whether to believe it or not." Lucian said.

The old man smiled. "Understandable."

He walked forward. Lucian followed.

"We live in a land where angels and demons coexist. Every day we see their effects, sometimes for good, sometimes for the worse, and the calamities they cause when they fight. The world is very old, but many gods are still alive and watching over their people. Even at this moment. ”

He walked towards the center of the town, where there was a picturesque church with white walls and blue tiles. The whole building is neat and flawless, even the stained glass windows are clean and faintly glowing. The villagers came and went in an endless stream, talking and laughing, and the children were around their knees and laughing. It's as if the church was built just yesterday.

"They will bless the faithful. Give life and love. ”

The old man turned to Lucian with a perceptive smile on his face.

"And death."

There was a strange sound in Lucian's ears - when the old man said "death," the voice turned into words on his lips, as if he had confided a secret in his lover's ear. The pedestrians on the road suddenly stopped, their eyes closed as if they had fallen into a dream. It wasn't until the strange rhythm flowed through their bodies that they opened their eyes again.

"When you're ready, look for me inside." He said. "They call me Pastor Karthas, and I have a lot to show you."

The interior of the church is also very clean and snow-white. The stool is smooth and clean, and the shrine is solemn. Karthhas dispersed the congregation in the church, and they all looked at Lucian with loving eyes as they passed by. Some whispered "welcome," while others clapped softly in respect. Lucian felt that New Eden was like a sleeping child who had not yet woken up to witness the monsters roaming the door. It seems to have been able to exist thanks to the rumored abilities of Karthus, whether true or not.

In Lucian's heart, the shadows erupted in rage. He felt his skin itch again, and a fire grew in some dark corner of his soul. The corners of his mouth crooked, squeezing out an irresistible smirk. But this time something was different - the thing was scared, and Lucian didn't know why.

"Oops," Kartas still had a smile on his face. "Now isn't the time, is it?"

The priest picked up a small black book decorated with a golden key. He waved his hand softly and spat out a few muffled words, and the devil immediately fell silent. Lucian had never had such an experience. The devil whispered in his ear like a low whimper from a dying flame.

"They're monsters."

"Where angels and demons coexist, I'm curious about your ultimate fate." Karthas draped a faded shawl and motioned for Lucian to kneel before him. Lucian was surprised to find that he had done so.

"Why are you fighting? What do you want to get? ”

Lucian did not answer. The light begins to dim, and the heartwarming music of New Eden fades into an eerie elegy. Karthas nodded slowly, his smile brightening as Luthic stared steadily. There was a strange movement on the ground behind him. The voice was all too familiar to him.

"We surrender most of our selves to fear." Karthas's voice became deeper and darker. "And you're giving the most."

The old man was surrounded by energy—a blue-green fluorescent sketch of the friends Lucian had lost, and what he had killed. Apparitions danced around the rafters, and the church was now decrepit, with peeling paint and black mold underneath.

Lucian felt at least a dozen shadows behind him. Some are on all fours, some are clinging to tattered benches, and many more are waiting outside the church. Their human disguise is dissolving. Lucian then understood why the town was so clean, and why everyone seemed so amiable: they weren't people at all. Maybe they were, but they must have been dead for a long time.

Lucian slowly reached for his pistol.

The Holy Priest clutched the book with the golden key pattern and floated into the air. His prayers erupted into a frenzied chant of countless voices overlapping each other: "The ice of death will cleanse our souls!" Our broken spirits will be restored to their original state, and all that was lost will be returned! ”

Something behind Lucian crawled forward, salivating and thirsty. Karthas spread his arms in the foul air and rose higher and higher. The images of Lucian's memories surround Calthas, and the images of the deaths of men and women are repeated.

A familiar voice poured into his ears, like a word, but not exactly.

"Did you hear her?" Karthas asked.

Lucian listened carefully.

He heard the sage breaking, the campfire turning to ashes, and the matches scratching. The voice spoke of Senna's death and Lucian's descent into despair. The dead-hearted bailiff roamed the land, he didn't care about anything but a name, and any joy had nothing to do with him. As the days passed, his will would be gnawed away by evil. The darkness inside longs to take full control of him. At the slightest chance of regaining peace, he would try, no matter how threatening or stupid.

Lucian heard that someone could talk to the deceased, so he set out on his way without asking. The fierce hatred in his heart turned into a shadow, and he gave himself up, allowing the shadow to completely occupy him.

Lucian finds himself facing the devil alone—he is far from the church and far from New Eden. The two stood opposite each other on a moonlit field of flowers. Lucian could feel the cool breeze blowing through his body, and in the distance he could see the lights of a small town high on the mountain, and the moon hanging low in the sky. The flower at the devil's feet was scorched and curled, but it stood indifferently, its face contorted into a familiar, hungry grin.

Lucian took a breath. His ego has been almost entirely surrendered to the shadows – and the ghost of the ruthless West, Hammerstone. But he still kept his soul. Although it is half decayed, this shadow is also a part of the soul, a part of himself.

The shadows came slowly, burning more flowers with each step.

Lucian held out his hand, and the shadow placed his charred arm into his palm. It whispered, "Will you throw your enemies into the flames?" ”

Lucian was silent. The touch of the shadow cracked his skin, but he didn't say anything. The shadow already knew his answer.

Its ashen body began to fuse with Lucian's flesh, and it whispered again, this time in Lucian's own voice, "Then let's do it together." ”

"Did you hear about your lost lover?" Karthas sang.

Lucian drew his pistol. "Nope."

His arms stretched out, turning into a pair of demon-forged hell cannons, and an unclean flame pierced Kartha's forehead. The priest's body fell from mid-air, and a ghoul on the bench screamed and pounced. Lucian turned and melted into the shadows. He slew the monster with one shot, and then shot the rest of the greedy monsters that looked like bones. Fiddlers, bakers, dancers, and farmers are now shrunken, twisted, and hollow. Bullets exploded between them, and the stumps flew sideways. At the same moment, a sea of monsters erupted from cracks in doorways, windows, and church walls. New Eden has finally woken up.

Lucian gave up his body to Shadow. Waterfall-like pillars of fire rushed into the horde of monsters, and Shadow raised its arms high. The devil screamed with joy, in tune with Lucian's own voice. The flames of hell spewed in every direction, and shadows slammed into the air. Gunfire pierced the decaying walls of the church, swept through the filth that had grown throughout New Eden, and lit up the town. Burning wood chips spilled from the ceiling. The ghouls screamed in fear and began to rout in groups, but the devils were faster. It leapt out of the crumbling rooftops onto the dilapidated streets, pouring cannon fire into the monsters' gaping mouths.

At this moment, Lucian burst out, and the devil's body exploded into gray mist. The undead scattered and fled, and Lucian slapped the two pistols together. The magical energy cast into the body of the spear began to surge, the fine lines stretched and extended, and the two barrels couldn't wait to merge together. A dazzling beam of light erupted from the spear, tearing the earth and countless screaming undead in anger.

The light is fleeting. Lucian looked around, and the two pistols had been re-unfastened.

He's waiting. The shadow in the body is now quiet. Abandoned houses are on fire, and fields are full of rotten grain. No more ghouls appeared. The church in Karthas collapsed, covering his body. Flames were consuming every inch of the remnants of his evil magic. But Lucian was sure that out of the corner of his eye he could see the old missionary still smiling as he was surrounded by a group of New Eden's inhabitants. The burning roof finally collapsed, burying them completely.

Lucian turned and walked toward civilization. The shadow followed him not far away, smirking.

He was close to talking to Senna. Just a little bit. But Lucian no longer needed to resort to ancient rituals and spells to comfort himself. He would see his lover again, or wait for Senna to come and meet him, just until the day he was buried in the ground. This is the end of a veritable brave gunslinger. Until then, terrible monsters were still lurking in the dark, waiting for the devil to knock on their door.

And in the vast frontier, there is a demon waiting for Lucian to slash it himself.