Reason

Before his eyes was that pure white fire, warm and searingly painful.

Suddenly, he recalled a story from a distant memory, one accompanied by thunder and torrential rain.

He remembered that the Vikings had never intended to take him to Inverwig; they only wanted his money. Back then, he had grappled with them on the ship for a long time, but in the end, he was still thrown into the sea. He had once thought he would die there, but when he woke up on the shore, the land of Inverwig was beneath his feet.

That truly was the moment his dream came true. When he woke up on the beach, the sun before his eyes had been just as warm and searingly painful.

Flames illuminated the dark space. Lorenzo gripped his Cane Sword; the blade was already halfway in, and as long as he drove it all the way through, he could pierce Sabo's heart. Yet, at the final moment, Sabo braced his blades, four arms locking the Cane Sword from different angles. He could only ignite Sabo's chest, but he could not burn his internal organs to ash.

"Mr. Holmes, so you consumed the Secret Blood just to kill people like me?"

Reflected in his eyes was Lorenzo's ferocious face, where pitch-black tattoos slithered across his skin like tangled snakes, and his gray-blue eyes shimmered with light.

"So, in order to fight against monsters, you don't even mind becoming something like a monster yourself?"

Sabo revealed an ugly smile, then used his four arms to forcefully fling Lorenzo away. The barbs at the ends of his limbs moved rapidly across the rock wall before diving into the darkness. Lorenzo landed on a wooden piling, gripping his sword and gun.

"Then, Mr. Holmes, will you kill yourself one day?"

The voice, laced with sarcasm, drifted from the surrounding darkness. Due to the hollows in the rock wall, Lorenzo could not determine the specific direction.

"This Secret Blood was given to me by a Doctor. He said it was technology from The Order."

The image of the Plague Doctor gradually surfaced in his mind; he was a man like that mysterious Mentor—bizarre and terrifying.

"The Order was among the first to fight against monsters. They hunted the creatures in the darkness while upholding noble character and divine names. Even in death, they would drive weapons forged of holy silver into the hearts of monsters. What holy believers they were... I could almost cry..."

A sharp bone blade struck from a corner of the darkness. Lorenzo immediately swung his Cane Sword and severed it with ease, his gaze scanning the darkness, incomparably vigilant.

"So what? Sabo, the Secret Blood has long since ceased to exist. Who exactly is that Doctor!"

Lorenzo demanded sternly. He clearly knew more than Sabo did, and his tone revealed a rare trace of anger.

People are greedy. Fishermen hunted whales and extracted flammable whale oil from them, and The Order had extracted something that should not exist from the bodies of monsters. That was the source of all evil; those who fought monsters eventually became monsters themselves.

"This is The Order's mistake. That is a power you cannot control!"

"So you think you can control it, is that it?"

Following Sabo's ear-piercing roar, a mottled rapier descended from the darkness above Lorenzo's head. Lorenzo kicked off hard, and the rapier sliced the wooden piling beneath his feet in two. Endless water splashed up, and then a bullet detonated by gunpowder pierced the water screen and struck Sabo.

It was a blinding white flame. In this darkness, it served not only to inflict damage but also allowed Lorenzo to see Sabo's position.

The twisted monster tore through the water screen, wreathed in flames. Its completely mutated body stepped on the pilings, closing in as it swung its rapier and bone blades. Iron clashed against iron; in the darkness, it was like a passing meteor, emitting a fleeting light.

"You have no idea what you are doing. That is Pandora's Box; it contains nothing but calamity!"

In the gaps between sword swings, the shotgun fired again. Taking advantage of the scattering pellets, Lorenzo's figure stopped eerily in mid-air, then he slashed his blade down fiercely. The fleeting light struck Sabo's abdomen, slicing through flesh and bone, tearing open a massive wound.

"But within that endless calamity, isn't there still that tiny sliver of hope?"

Sabo's voice was thick. His blade slashed down, wounding Lorenzo's chest. Blood splattered; this was a trade of wounds, a desperate fight fueled by trembling killing intent.

The shotgun fired in rapid succession, keeping Sabo at bay while the distance between the two widened until a safe gap was maintained.

"Mr. Holmes, I thought you would be able to understand me."

A hand covered in mucus and scars gently brushed over the massive wound on his abdomen. There were no internal organs, only a mass of writhing flesh, and that flesh was currently healing... or rather, growing savagely, proliferating without restraint.

Sabo looked at Lorenzo not far away with sadness, a distorted voice rising from his throat.

"Mr. Holmes, I have had nothing since the day I was born. A pure outlaw. No one loved me, and no ethereal god looked upon me with favor. I have no past, and I have no future. All I have is what I can obtain right now."

The words became blurred. His eyeballs, squeezed by the flesh, sank completely beneath the distortion, and then fresh red blood flowed from the gaps, just like weeping tears.

"So, for an outlaw who has nothing, does it even matter what is in the box?"

The monster questioned the monster hunter—one side stood in the darkness, the other ignited a raging light.

After a brief silence, the voice sounded again.

"It doesn't matter at all, Mr. Holmes."

It seemed to be laughing. A bone-chilling cracking sound echoed as a new bone blade was pulled from its chest, dripping with mucus and blood.

"Endless calamity and a sliver of hope—it's like a traveler about to freeze to death who sees a sea of fire before him. Then... as long as there is that tiny bit of warmth, what does it matter if one dies in that warm sea of fire?"

The words echoed in his ears like a curse. Even a fearless soul would feel a hint of discomfort and confusion. It seemed to be asking Lorenzo, and it seemed to be asking itself. Then, a hideous smile appeared on that ferocious face.

"It doesn't matter anyway, does it?"

It laughed, mocking itself.

Lorenzo looked deeply at Sabo on the other side, a rare, faint smile appearing on his cold face.

"Yes, for an outlaw, none of it matters anymore."

The answer was not important; what mattered was that only the one who survived could judge right from wrong. There was no need to say anything more. Sword light and thunder arrived together.

Four sharp blades came head-on. The Cane Sword parried with all its might, searching for an opening to counterattack. Lorenzo's blood sprayed everywhere, landing on Sabo and igniting a raging fire.

The two fought under the shroud of white flames, like moths to a flame.

A bone blade hacked down with force, but Lorenzo blocked it with one hand. He gripped the bone blade tightly and yanked it upward, then slashed down with his Cane Sword, snapping the bone that was as hard as steel. But at that moment, another bone blade descended, leaving a trail of wounds on Lorenzo's body.

Yet, Lorenzo did not care. His pitch-black tattoos grew scorching hot, and bizarre changes were occurring within his own body. Sabo suddenly raised his thigh and kicked Lorenzo in the chest. The man was knocked backward, and before he could stop, a speeding bone blade pierced his shoulder like a long nail, pinning him firmly to the rock wall.

In an instant, Sabo lunged again, his two bone blades crossing like a falling guillotine.

A shrieking roar echoed through the dark space. Sabo's face, now completely unrecognizable, pressed close to Lorenzo. The Cane Sword snapped under the impact, and the remaining two bone blades pinned Lorenzo against the rock wall like long spikes.

"That's why we're the same, Mr. Holmes."

The final rapier descended slowly like an executioner's blade, piercing Lorenzo's chest before carving downward. It was a horrific wound, yet beneath the flesh lay a skeleton of silver. It was soaked in blood, but under the flickering light, one could see holy scripts etched across its surface. Flesh writhed within the gaps, healing even as it was torn.

"You're a desperate man too. If you weren't, why would you consume the Secret Blood?"

It was that so-called Secret Blood protecting Lorenzo. He loathed it, yet he was becoming it. Sabo let out a triumphant laugh; in the end, Lorenzo was nothing more than a creature like himself. He roared with laughter.

"There is always a reason."

Lorenzo remained as cold as ever, as if nothing could disturb him.

Sabo paused for a moment, but as if to prove a point, the sharp rapier descended.

The rapier grew larger in his pupils. If nothing went wrong, Sabo intended to pierce Lorenzo's heart. Whether demon, human, or any other life form, that non-resilient body possessed such fatal weaknesses: the heart and the brain.

Lorenzo tried to lift his shotgun, but the bone blades jammed his joints. With no other choice, he pulled the trigger, but it could not stop the demon's strength.

The rapier fell, piercing his chest and his heart.

After a brief moment of pain, it was all over. His vision blurred, and Sabo leaned close to his ear, whispering hoarsely.

"Then what is your reason for consuming the Secret Blood?"

Distant memories engulfed Lorenzo like a tidal wave.

Though he claimed they were different, as he faced death, he found himself pondering his own reason. Sabo's reason was to survive—merely to survive. He craved life; it was the only thing he possessed and the most valuable thing he had. But what about himself?

The demonic malice eroded his nerves, as if thousands of people were wailing in his ears. Phantom pains racked his body, and countless maggots gnawed at his flesh, reducing him to bare bone.

His will was collapsing, but in the midst of it, Lorenzo suddenly remembered.

He had been in Old Dunling for six years. It was neither long nor short—enough to forge a new life, and enough to forget the old one.

He remembered.

[Secret Blood Awakening 9.7%, exceeding stable range, Silver-Binding Bolt beginning to melt.]

His gaze filled with frost, and a rage seemed to ferment, breaking through the barriers.

The chaotic wailing vanished, and all the maggots were burned to ash by a raging fire.

Muscles pulled against bone, tearing himself free from the bone blades in a gruesome display. With blood and fire, Lorenzo grabbed the rapier, gripping it with a death-like hold.

"To live, as well."

Lorenzo spoke to Sabo with a savage expression, then tore his entire body free from the bone blades. His flesh ripped, but it also regenerated. The power of the demon was released from that blood, filled with distortion and hatred. He had transformed into the same thing as Sabo.

"Only, I live for the sake of others, Sabo."

A scorching light grew brighter in his gray-blue eyes. Pitch-black tattoos covered his body like iron armor, and dense plating grew from beneath his skin, stacking layer upon layer. With every slight movement, it emitted the harsh, metallic screech of steel grinding against steel.

It was like wings.

[Secret Blood Awakening 9.9%, exceeding stable range, Silver-Binding Bolt beginning to melt.]

[Attempting to connect to Stasis Temple.]

[Connection failed.]

He seemed surrounded by countless believers, his ears filled with faint, murmuring prayers.

Sabo had never believed in any god; even joining the Gospel Church had only been for the free communion on Sundays. But here, in the depths of the earth, in an abyss untouched by light, he witnessed a miracle.

The so-called steel began to be reforged. The broken Cane Sword began to sprout a substance known as metal. It burned, resembling the flaming sword that guarded the gates of Heaven in the Gospel Book.

The sword of heavenly fire fell into the mortal world, purging all evil.