The once-prosperous manor was now in ruins, and the lawn full of life was baptized by fire, leaving only the ashes of the dead scattered on it, and the dust carried by the wind.

In the end, there is a kind of gray of death, and everything seems so sad.

The monstrous duo stared at each other from a distance, looking indifferent or furious.

"Imam Lawrence, where did you go that night?"

The ghost questioned again, he was a survivor of the night of Arrival, a survivor of the impossibility of existing.

It's really bone-chilling, like a familiar face under the frozen lake, he is obviously dead, but one day you walk on the frozen lake and see his stubborn face again.

Even though you're dead, you're stubbornly smashing through the ice and trying to drag you down.

There is always something chasing after you, some are memories, some are missions, and some are angry vengeful spirits.

"What did you do on the night of Arrival?"

The faint voice sounded again, and the flaming iron rider stepped over the scorched meadow, the flames burning behind him, as if they were scorching on his back.

The voices began to blur and overlap, and there seemed to be countless people questioning him at the same time, all the dead witchers.

Few people know the full extent of the events of Advent Night, after all, the catastrophe that swept through the entire Seven Hills was so terrible that even the Holy Pope died in the end.

In memory, Medanzo was also one of the knowers, and when the Messiah-class containment broke through, he was the first to enter outside the Basilica of San Nalo, but now he is dead, and the only will he has is living in the [gap] like a lonely ghost.

Lorenzo only knew a vague idea of all this, and none of the rest.

Suddenly remembering the conversation with Medanzo many years ago, as the guard of the Basilica of Santa Nalo, Lorenzo's job was actually boring, after all, there were not many deadly demons who would try to storm this place, and even with this huge armed guard, they might not even be able to climb the sacred staircase.

At that time, the work was really boring, but boredom was a good thing, there were no demons, no fighting, except for the secret blood flowing in his body, Lorenzo was just an ordinary guard, everything was ordinary, not good.

Lorenzo had asked Medanzo what he wanted to do when he retired, after all, he was the best in the branch, maybe he could take over the position of Imam Lawrence and become the new imam, and maybe he would be able to play in a red robe.

But Medanzo said that he was not interested in that kind of life, and he asked what he wanted to do, and Lorenzo said that he wanted to be a bard or something, to travel the world and read all kinds of things.

"It's a lot like yours, but I don't like to run around, and I'll probably start an office with her. ”

Medanzo replied at the time, saying that he wanted to open a detective agency, but now he is a detective himself, and he is dead forever.

No one could have imagined that this would end up many years later, just as Lorenzo would never have imagined that he would become like this many years later.

"You...... Doesn't look like he?"

Imam Lawrence apparently didn't listen to Lorenzo, and he was still wrestling with his strange familiarity with Lorenzo.

But then he smiled, his cloudy eyes burning with the same blazing whiteness.

He'd lived so long that even his own memories of the past were so strange that he always felt that he should remember Lorenzo as a person, but Lorenzo was hiding under his armor, and he couldn't be sure of it, but what did it matter?

People as noble as the Pope will die, but only people like him will live to the end. Nothing is worth remembering.

To be forgotten is to be dead, just as no one ever knows what was once built on the sand, meaningless.

"Don't talk nonsense, kids, it's just for different interests. ”

He tilted his head, his voice was calm, looking at the falling bright light, and before he knew it, the purification mechanism had surrounded the place, and the cavalry in the night sky was ready to go, and in the darkness there were one point of light after another, which was the aluminum rifle that ignited the igniter.

In the night, there was the sound of railroad tracks trembling, as if something made of steel was rushing towards it.

"In the end, hatred or anything is just the anger of children, and real adults will just be silent and do what they want. ”

Patriarch Lawrence smiled, it was clear that he had failed tonight's operation, and he had not caught Eve in the first place and was stopped by the sudden appearance of the witcher.

"Actually, you're lucky, you survived, if I were you, I'd go into hiding, find a place where the church would never find it, forget all the secret blood demons and whatever, and then live a good time...... I've always had the luxury of looking forward to this peaceful life, but it's a pity that I haven't gotten it for so long. ”

"Do you think I'll choose that?"

Lorenzo asked.

There was a long silence, and then Imam Lawrence smiled.

"Yes, how could it be? Just like when I gave up my quiet life, I was about the same age as you...... Maybe it's bigger, but the fire in my heart hasn't been extinguished yet, what jealousy and hatred are like hatred, for the sake of brothers and knives in the ribs or something, young people, they will always do something unexpected.

It's like different age groups make different choices, but at least it's all our own choice, and there's no need to regret anything. ”

Imam Lawrence's gaze was like ice, he was once young, and there was fire in his mouth, but now that he was old and the fire was out, he was a boring adult, just for his own ends, unscrupulous means.

"If you're a witcher, I should have taught you that you should always keep your thoughts hidden...... Weapons are thoughtless. ”

"I'm about to hear that. ”

"But after you heard so much, didn't you learn?"

The old wrinkles twisted together, and he was like a real teacher.

Lorenzo began to understand Sheak Lawrence's words, but then the reason lost in his rage returned, and he remembered something and unconsciously clenched his sword.

"Those inferior secret blood have something to do with you, right? ”

The mysterious disappearance of Imam Lawrence on the night of Arrival, if it was he who took the book of Revelation and then developed the inferior secret blood, then it all makes sense.

But then Lorenzo thought of another thing, if the above speculation was true, then how did Imam Lawrence know that there would definitely be a [Messianic] containment breach, although he didn't know the security measures of the Apocalypse, but only that night the Cathedral of Santa Naro completely fell, so he had a chance to do it.

Also said...... He single-handedly planned all this, just like tonight, causing endless chaos, but his real purpose was behind the shadows.

Ostensibly to take revenge on the nobles, but in fact it is the kidnapping of Eve, so the night of Advent unleashes panic and steals the Book of Revelation......

Suddenly all the fury of revenge was gone, and he looked at Imam Lawrence smiling on the other end, as if a huge shadow had enveloped him, from the place of the Seven Hills six years ago to the old Dunling now, something was secretly fermenting, and the aftermath of the events of Advent was far from over.

Lorenzo looked at Imam Lawrence in shock, and everything in his mind was a mess.

"Son, we are all people who are chased by the carriage of fate. ”

Imam Lawrence laughed out loud.

"Some escaped from the wheels that crushed everything, while others were crushed into powder......"

After laughing, he slowly lifted his broken spike sword and looked at Lorenzo in disappointment.

"Like me, you thought you had escaped, didn't you? ”

The words stopped, and the wind rose.

The blazing flames almost condensed into substance, welling up in the old man's eyes, and Imam Lawrence's expression was not angry, and the nameless wind dragged his red robe.

At that moment, Lorenzo could only see a galloping scarlet, accompanied by the sound of thunder tearing through the air, and the blade of the broken sword was directed at Lorenzo.

"You're still a kid. ”

A sigh sounded, and Lorenzo swung his great sword to try to cut the thunder down, but the galloping thunder suddenly deviated slightly in the path it was on, only a little distance, but it was so easy to pass by Lorenzo's blade, and then fell towards his rear.

"It's a belated lesson to hide your thoughts and never let anyone know your target until the weapon actually falls. ”

The voice returned to his ears, and the nameless fear fell on Lorenzo, and he could only see the broken sword light slashing through the ashes and smoke, and over the ruins and fire.

His goal was not Lorenzo.

The aluminum rifles fired together, and countless gunshots mingled together, like the resounding murmur of an ancient giant.

The flaming aluminum bullet tore out hundreds of burning tracks in mid-air, and in slow motion, there were red lines that stood in the air, weaving a burning net and blocking all the paths of Patriarch Lawrence.

And so in this moment the palpitating power surged, and the old door slowly opened with the master of will, and with the smell of dust and decay, the old beast came out of its cage again.

The thunder met the fire net directly, never slowing down, but becoming more and more rapid, and then, as if avoiding Lorenzo's sword strike, the shadow swayed slightly, dodging one aluminum bullet after another.

Seem...... It was as if he had known the trajectory of those aluminum bullets from the beginning.

Lorenzo froze in place, and he suddenly remembered the story of Imam Lawrence, whom an elderly elder had called him.

Chanda.

Yes, he was the patriarch of the Demon Hunting Order, and he had been named after the angel, whether it was his sword strike or the burning trajectory, all of which he had foreseen.

Eve could only see the glow that kept coming, whether it was the aluminum bullet or the soldiers in front of her, they couldn't stop him, like a falling meteor, and the next moment Imam Lawrence descended in front of her with a bitter wind.