Armored Gargoyle

The moment the stranger opened his eyes, he witnessed such a shocking scene that his legs went weak.

"... Ah, ahh..."

His throat gurgled and made meaningless sounds.

His pupils contracted, and his vision went black. The stranger collapsed to the ground—not just from being knocked down by the flying kick, but also from the dizziness caused by the blankness in his mind, which caused his legs to buckle and he fell.

Strangers are not afraid of corpses, much less of the dead.

As Fourth Level Calamity Splicer, although he hadn't graduated from school yet, he had already handled and pieced together many corpses. Even before he could speak fluently, he had already learned the art of sewing corpses from his sister and father. To him, human corpses were merely materials, no different from clay or building blocks.

He had a friend from a family of watchmakers. That guy had been playing with pocket watches since he was a child, and the stranger had been playing with corpses since he was a child; to him, it was all the same.

—But this was the first time that the stranger had ever seen a living person turn into a corpse.

The superhuman's exceptional dynamic vision allowed him to see everything. The old man's face still bore the marks of fear and shock, his entire body twisted and shattered under the flames and pressure. His body, crushed by the pressure, resembled a tomato stuffed with a firecracker. Countless spurts of blood, like countless needles, felt as if they were piercing his very marrow.

The stranger couldn't even tell whether the blood had penetrating and impactful power under high pressure, or whether the pain he felt was just an illusion.

He himself didn't know what he was afraid of, but he knew that standing in the middle of the street was definitely very dangerous.

So even though his legs started to give way and he couldn't stand up, his educated brain still urged his body to almost tumble and crawl away from the shattered corpse.

He had only crawled two steps when he realized he hadn't taken the box. So he crawled back, hunched over, and staggered to his feet, leaning on the box, before making his way to a nearby house.

He had barely knocked when the door opened. Without asking any questions, the other person pulled him inside.

It was an old woman.

"Master Nobel!"

She exclaimed in surprise, "Are you alright?!"

"... Heh... ha... ha... cough cough cough..."

The stranger waved his hands and shook his head repeatedly, but could not utter a word.

He let out heavy breathing, gasping for air as if he were having an asthma attack.

But what rushed into my throat was not fresh air.

—Only the smell of soil, blood, and gunpowder.

They made the stranger's throat dry, and he couldn't help but cough. He coughed until tears welled up in his eyes, like a non-smoker taking a deep drag on a lit cigarette.

It took him a while to finally calm down. He asked in a hoarse voice, "What... what happened?"

He was surprised to find his voice so hoarse that it sounded like it was about to crack when he spoke.

The stranger instinctively touched his throat, finding it wet and sticky. His experience immediately told him that it felt like warm human blood.

He stared blankly at his fingers and saw that they were dripping blood.

The stranger felt his vision blurring and he could barely open it. So he subconsciously reached up and wiped his face haphazardly a couple of times, and when he let go, his hand was covered in blood.

"Those pig-headed, antimony-infested Stibnite Person have broken in!"

The old woman, with a shrill voice and a witch-like hoarseness, cried out, "There are dead people everywhere, so don't go out!"

... Stibnite Person?

Strangers gradually came to understand some of the current situation.

I don't know why, but I suddenly found myself here the moment I opened my eyes. It's as if I've lost a period of my memory...

But looking at the surrounding walls, which have a rather rural feel, this must be the countryside of Avalon.

Did I escape here alone? Immediately, another unresolved question arose in the stranger's mind.

Why would the Star Antimony army attack a village without any troops stationed there? Why would they directly use Alchemy Bomb to attack civilians?

This makes absolutely no sense! Military manuals state that this kind of behavior is not permitted!

Who exactly is in command?!

Anger and confusion rose in his heart, and the stranger subconsciously clenched his fists.

"I..."

He had barely opened his mouth when the words caught in his throat.

—What should he say?

Should I comfort the other person and tell them everything will be alright? But the bomb had just landed right in front of me, and I was covered in blood.

The Stibnite Person explained that this was abnormal? Yet, the familiar villagers were reduced to fragments before his very eyes.

They said they'd all be fine?

... However, I can only exert the combat power of the Third Level now, and I cannot even exert the full power of the Master Nobel.

Even if he could put his abilities to use—what could he possibly do?

But the stranger felt he couldn't remain silent. The words were stuck in his chest, and he would go crazy if he didn't speak them out.

He looked around in fear and confusion, his fists clenching and unclenching. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, or where he was.

But at that moment, the old woman suddenly pulled him down.

Even an alchemist who didn't particularly enhance his physique was far stronger than the old man. However, the stranger, in his panic, offered no resistance and was easily pulled to the ground.

The next moment, the stranger held his breath, his mind going blank.

Because something he knew all too well appeared—

It had a fierce, horned face, a body as thin as a monkey, and wings like a bat.

Their heads shimmered with fluorescent green runes, their bodies were covered by a metal shell like an iron cage, and inside were flesh and blood that had become cold and dry from high-speed flight.

It looks like a person's skin has been peeled off and then bound with a metal outer garment.

Their arms were machine guns bound by iron hoops, and their backs were wrapped with two cloak-like ammunition belts.

Upon spotting them, they let out a cacophony of squeals like monkeys and swooped down.

In the darkness, gun muzzles spewed flames. The old woman's body was torn to shreds in an instant, lying like a scarecrow.

"Mom! Damn it... I'll fuck you, you damn monster!"

A middle-aged man burst out of the house, roaring angrily.

He held a shotgun in his right hand and suddenly pulled the trigger at the gargoyle.

However, these bullets were of no use to them.

Bullets capable of Bear Hunt only managed to blast a gash the size of a baby's fist into the stone statue. The gargoyles moved without hesitation. They didn't even stop firing; as if watering flowers in a garden, they casually turned their guns, and the barrage of bullets tore the man to shreds.

... This is precisely the operational detail set by Moke.

Gargoyles have very low intelligence, so they cannot master complex weapon handling skills, and using firearms is naturally not one of them.

However, a simple command like "pull the trigger" is sufficient to complete the task.

Aiming was too difficult for them; if they detected an enemy firing again, the delayed reaction could easily prevent the bullet from being fired. So, after six versions of testing, Stranger chose a new approach. "Don't release the trigger."

As long as the gargoyles are in combat stance and there are no targets in front of them that need protection, they will not release their triggers. Even if they turn their guns around, they will continue firing. The barrage of bullets can easily weave a large net, tearing apart anyone trying to escape, and this firepower is deadly to unarmored units.

... tear apart anyone who tries to escape.

The image of himself proudly explaining his new idea flashed through the stranger's mind, and his excited voice still echoed in his ears.

The intense nausea caused his abdomen to spasm.