In the hazy rain curtain, dark shadows chased after the speeding train, and the surging steam overflowed from the cracks of the machinery, like a sharp blade, easily piercing the wind and rain.

Lorenzo leaped high from his horse, grabbed the edge of the train, and pierced the crack in the steel with a sharp spike, and with Lorenzo's force, the door was slowly pried open, it was a cargo car, Lorenzo pried it to the size of barely enough for one person to enter, and then got in.

The cargo did not fill the entire crate, which gave him a place to rest, and he leaned on the cargo, and the rain and cold wind poured into the cargo compartment along the crevices that were pried open.

Lorenzo gasped, and after a moment's rest, he sat up slowly, and though his movements were slight, he tugged at the wound and grinned.

Fortunately, Lorenzo was only affected by Cantrella, and the deadly toxin was not enough to kill him, plus the healing of the secret blood, Lorenzo has improved a lot, but there will still be nosebleeds from time to time.

After a brief wipe and looking out of the carriage, the rain covered everything, Lorenzo felt that the train was running in a world of nothingness, never reaching the end.

After a moment's pause, Lorenzo took out the note in his arms, which Shermans had given to him at the end, and with the angry look of the old man at that time, he seemed to hold on until then, just to give it to himself.

"Cursed Knowledge ......"

Lorenzo thought back to this sentence, this was not the first time Lorenzo had heard it, although the expression may be different, but it is often the same in alchemy.

As if touching something, Lorenzo's breath quickened.

The note was thick and plain, with a little blood stained on it, and Lorenzo couldn't tell if it was his own or Shermans's.

He was about to open his note, but then he saw the bookmark sandwiched in it, located on the last few pages of the note.

Lorenzo recalls when he infiltrated and was assassinated when Shermans was writing something in his notebook.

He had reason to believe in the preciousness of this note, and in all that he had just experienced, what Shermans had done was to protect it, or rather, to allow himself to take the knowledge of this note away from that Jedi.

The ink on the page had not yet dried completely, and it seemed that this was the last thing Shermans had written, and the handwriting was very neat at first, but Shermans himself seemed to have something wrong, and his handwriting became more and more sloppy as he got to the end, and there were even large blood stains covering the page.

Lorenzo felt a little pressure, the witchers of the Protestant Order had been dumped by him, and he was sitting on the speeding train, he was already safe, but as he read Shermans's handwriting, a strange sense of crisis gradually fell on him.

"Demon ...... What exactly?"

Demons are a very special thing, and even if the knowledge accumulated by the Demon Hunting Order over the years is difficult to give a good overview of it.

But to put it simply, a demon is an extremely powerful creature, with outstanding strength and speed, terrifying vitality, and that bloodthirsty desire, but in the end, this is just a powerful creature, but when it comes to the nature of erosion, the horror of demons has ushered in a qualitative change.

Each demon is a source of pollution that carries erosion, and that strange pressure can drive a person crazy until he also becomes an abominable creature like a demon, and if the conditions can, as long as there is a wide enough high-intensity erosion, it can transform the entire city into a demon.

This is also the reason why even if humans have mastered technology, it is difficult to fight against demons, swords and guns can easily destroy demons, but they cannot kill the invisible erosion, and that invisible erosion can penetrate the solid armor and drag reason into the abyss of madness.

Therefore, the demon hunters of the Demon Hunting Order, the superior knights of the Purification Agency...... These people, who have been experimented with or blessed with alchemical potions, have become resistant to erosion, and they have become the main force in the fight against demons.

With the steam engine setting off the Industrial Revolution, mankind no longer lacks weapons to fight demons, but lacks the intellect not to be swallowed up by erosion and to face despair.

Lorenzo gripped the notes, trying to keep each character firmly in his mind, and the more he read, the more he could feel the fear of seeing the truth.

The wind and rain were cold, and the heavy rain and fog surrounded the train, leaving nothing but the lonely railway beneath its feet and the endless green fields around it.

Lorenzo stretched out his hand, and he tightened his grip on the spike sword, holding it in his arms, knowing that there were no enemies around, but as if doing so would give him some security.

Faintly, the old voice of Shermans could be heard again, as he wrote the terrible truth.

"How do you distinguish between the strength and weakness of demons?

Due to erosion, even after nearly a thousand years, we still haven't established a sufficiently detailed classification of demons...... It is also possible that we have tried in the past, but like the knowledge that has been lost through erosion, they have not been passed down.

However, despite this, the approximate types are recorded in the Demon Hunting Order, and according to the types of demons and specific effects, they are named Stomach Chew Grass and Nightmare Illusion......

But this is just a type, there is no specific individual strength or weakness, some demons are extremely ordinary and can be easily killed, and some demons are very powerful and difficult to break.

They had tried to distinguish demons based on their size and strength, but I thought they should be graded by the intensity of erosion.

Yes, the erosion intensity, in the end, this invisible spiritual immersion is the most terrifying root of the demons, sometimes I even think that their demonic flesh is just a shell, what is really terrifying is the crazy will. ”

I don't know if it was sweat or rain, there was a crystal liquid sliding across Lorenzo's forehead, he wiped it, it was such a cold weather, but he felt extremely hot.

Lorenzo looked around in a panic, relieved a little when he realized that he was the only one here, but only then did he realize his ridiculous behavior.

What are you afraid of?

Lorenzo looked down at the note, there was no erosion, the book was not tainted, but like the cognitohazard he knitohazard, the more Lorenzo read, the more uneasy he felt, the uneasiness of intuition, the wild instinct of man warning him.

What's going on here?

Lorenzo couldn't help but awaken the secret blood, and the tyrannical power rushed in the veins.

It takes a time for the witcher to awaken the secret blood, and when the secret blood is not awakened, the witcher is only stronger than ordinary people, but when the secret blood continues to awaken, the forbidden power is given to this body, and beyond the critical value, it is moving towards demonization.

It's a dangerous process, so each Demon Hunter will awaken the Secret Blood according to the strength of the enemy, rather than maxing it out as soon as the battle starts.

"What's even stranger is that the demons we've encountered over the years have all been mutated by humans, yes, that's right.

So far...... At least in my understanding, we haven't encountered pure demons, the Primordial Demons, so does it mean that the Primordial Demons born from nature do not exist?

If you think about it from this perspective, the struggle with demons that seems to have been fought for thousands of years is actually a human being killing each other, and a strange force has alienated humans into demons, and then this demon has transformed more humans into demons, so we draw our swords against each other.

Rather than being a creature or an unknown name, it is better to understand it as some kind of ...... Epidemic disease?

Just like the Black Death that once ravaged Invig, one day in the past history, a plague called the demon broke out, it spread and swept the whole world, we hid in the darkness and resisted powerlessly, because of the existence of erosion, the information about it was forgotten, and in the end, we even forgot the original appearance of the demon, and we are accustomed to this world of monsters. ”

Shermans's handwriting had eventually become scribbled symbols, and Lorenzo could barely make out the words, but then he suddenly noticed that the countless scribbled symbols formed a strange and cumbersome picture scroll all over the page.

Lorenzo didn't think that Shermans had the leisure to draw with handwriting when he wrote this, but more like he was influenced by something in the process of writing.

During his life as a witcher, Lorenzo encountered this situation, where a group of corrupted creatures saw crazy hallucinations and thought they were favored by the gods.

"Yes...... If the primordial demons did not exist, then what was the root of the concept of demons that we had captured, and what was the reason for them to think that the Divine Grail was the root of all demons?"

The words that follow have lost their basic logic, and Lorenzo can now vaguely feel the madness of Shermans at that time, as if he was maintaining his last sanity, and the words he wrote were fragmentary, and he wrote whatever he wanted.

"If this is really a plague, then who is the [Patient Zero] who caused all this? or the so-called Holy Grail......

No, it's not right, if we look at it this way, with the spread ability of demon erosion, even if the current demon hunters are expanded by more than ten times, it will be difficult for us to curb the flood of demons...... Something is limiting the number of demons......

Everything should have a beginning, but I can't find it, I can't find the source, I can't find the source of the story......"

Lorenzo's eyes tightened, his heart pounding, and he read the last scribbled handwriting, slowly closing the note, and then carefully placing it in his pocket.

He let go of the nail sword, wiped the cold sweat from his palm, and gripped it hard again.

In such a short period of time, Lorenzo felt as if he had experienced a terrifying storm, his perception of the world and demons being torn apart, and then reunited again.

The world is far from as simple as it seems.

"So...... Will I die in some strange accident next, or will some goddamn demon come out of nowhere and bite me to death?"

The secret blood rose, Lorenzo kicked open the door, the goods were dragged back by the wind, the cold rain poured into the car, and the whistling wind kept ringing in his ears.

Lorenzo remembered Shermans' death, as he said in the last paragraph of his note.

Shellmans Borgia was not a very good person, and in addition to his belief in God, he was only helped by the legacy of his family, and even such a mediocre person could discover these historical doubts, so how could those great sages not find out?

No, they found out, but when they did, they were all dead.

These are the last words in Shermans's notes, he believes that there is some unknown barrier that restricts us, restricts everyone's search for the truth of the world, and that all those who touch it are dead, so Shermans admonishes himself so seriously before he dies.

"Knowledge is a cursed ......"

Lorenzo looked around vigilantly, and if what Sherman believed was true, then Lorenzo had touched the unknown barrier, the boundary of human cognition, and woke up as he touched the sleeping things.

The darkness slowly swirled in the corners he couldn't see, as if something was about to emerge from the darkness, but then all this seemingly strange change stalled.

Lorenzo was puzzled, but it was what actually happened, and the feeling of extreme unease was dissipating, as if the Grim Reaper had suddenly given up hunting Lorenzo.

The train broke through the endless rain curtain, and a huge gray silhouette appeared at the end of the horizon, and the old Dunling was close at hand.

Lorenzo was a little surprised, and he sat on the edge of the carriage, looking at the endless wilderness, the gloomy clouds that seemed to connect the canopy of heaven with the earth.

The train took Lorenzo with it, but left something else unsettling.

The torrential rain poured down on the earth, and in the thousands of rain streams, I could barely perceive that the fall of the rain seemed to be distorted by something intangible.

They stood on the railroad tracks, looking at each other, two unsettling shapes in the air under the majestic rain curtain.

"Who are you?"

A voice sounded out of nothingness.

"When the will of nothingness has substance, it can interfere with matter, but in the same way, it can also be interfered with by ...... entity."

The other man did not answer the question, but only muttered to himself, as if to confirm the current situation.

"You...... It's not 'us', how is that possible?"

The voice sounded again in the void, this time confused and uneasy.

And the man still did not answer it, the man was silent, in the rain, two ghostly beings were wary of each other, until the next moment there was a rapid drum beat, it was the sound of the beating of the heart, under this lonely rain curtain there were two invisible hearts beating violently.

In an instant, the terrifying erosion detonated everything, and the invisible force swept the whole world, pulling the storm and wind, gathering into a storm, and the earth crumbling under this force, the grass and soil seemed to be cut and turned up by invisible blades, and the steel rails danced like snakes, and finally fixed into a twisted shape.

The unknown force had come to kill Lorenzo, and all who touched the border would have met this fate, but this time the Grim Reaper was blocked, and that resistance came from another Grim Reaper.

The unknown beyond the unknown fought here, and an even more violent impact spread, and then the entire storm that had just emerged collapsed.

Everything was so abrupt, just now it was an apocalyptic scene, but now everything is gone, and the rain is still falling, but this time there are no invisible figures like ghosts under the rain curtain.