She sat down slowly, unable to perceive the existence of things around her; even the struggling, writhing flesh in the sea of fire couldn't attract her attention.

Lawrence was dead, but the Holy Grail's flesh was not. It finally took over the entire body, attempting to crawl out of the searing sea of flames.

After an indeterminate amount of time, she stood up again, her expression ferocious.

"Lorenzo Holmes."

Perhaps it was the striking resemblance to Lorenzo, even in anger, she bore his shadow.

"Lorenzo Holmes, you bastard, you can't just die like this!"

Looking at that filthy face, this Demon Hunter, even in death, carried a damned rogue charm, his dry lips curled up as if killing Lawrence was fulfilling some cursed revolutionary dream.

"Yes, you can't die yet."

The girl repeatedly muttered, her fury solemn as ever.

Just like many talks before, the reason for this Demon Hunter's existence was too fragile. In this lunatic's mind, there were only two things: either killing demons or on the way to kill them.

This guy's life is a tragedy, and now this damned Demon Hunter has completed his revenge; whether ascending to heaven or descending to hell no longer matters.

But it's still not enough, not enough.

...

"Did I... die?"

Lorenzo slowly raised his head, still in that familiar ice field, sitting on a bench.

"Almost."

Watson sat beside Lorenzo, answering him.

Lorenzo was initially a bit surprised, then accepted calmly.

"Maybe being on the verge of death, everything seems indifferent."

"Even your vigilance against me is the same?"

"Of course."

Lorenzo replied, "I'm dead, you're dead too. Not only did I kill Lawrence, but I can take you with me, isn't it wonderful?"

Watson shook her head with a smile, continuing to speak words Lorenzo couldn't understand.

"You seem to have forgotten a lot, still haven't recovered?"

"Forgotten what? Nothing matters anymore, Watson, I'm dying; no amount of memory is worth more than a cigarette... if I could, I'd want to eat another meal."

As expected of Lorenzo, even at death's door, he's full of nonsense.

"So what happens next? Does a strange train break through the air, carrying me to hell?"

As Lorenzo spoke, he looked to the edge of the ice field. He always had this strange déjà vu; it was like a bus stop bench, but who in their right mind would build a stop out here?

"You know very well what the world after death is like, Lorenzo."

Watson said.

The slightly playful expression gradually settled down, and Lorenzo answered.

"There's nothing, just like falling asleep, only never waking up again."

"Then why not try to live on?"

"Maybe I'm trying to escape."

The two chatted casually, rarely seen; a Demon Hunter was calmly chatting with the terrifyingly bizarre, like a confession before death.

"Escape?"

Watson was somewhat surprised, not expecting such words from Lorenzo's mouth. Lorenzo just nodded seriously.

"Yes, in the end, Demon Hunters still possess parts of humanity. We're not pure humans, nor pure demons, living in the gap between two worlds, wandering in the gray area between black and white."

"I still have human weaknesses... cowardice, compassion, empathy, and more..."

"Do you really think killing demons every day is interesting?"

Lorenzo asked back.

"But I see you kill them happily enough?"

Watson said without giving any leeway, rendering Lorenzo momentarily speechless, but then he continued to answer.

"Alright, I must admit it's really satisfying to chop them down... but honestly, it's really exhausting."

Lorenzo said with a hint of desolation.

"Everyone's dead; only I survived. All I can do is offer my rage to commemorate everyone. Even if I want to stop, that rage continues to drive me, but I'm ultimately not a perfect person... or demon. I'm a flawed guy, with demon strength and human weaknesses. In the end, I'll feel tired and reach a point where I can't move anymore..."

"Do you know that feeling? Like having a damn mission, you know you can't abandon it and mustn't, but one day when you're about to die, you just want to surrender to death, and then you're relieved, saying goodbye to the mission."

"So, this is your escape?"

Watson asked.

Lorenzo nodded.

"Yes, this flame has burned for too long. I've already been burnt out, from firewood to ashes, and I just released the last bit of warmth... I can't burn any longer. Even if I die like this, no one will blame me..."

Lorenzo spoke casually; the feeling of release from such pressure was quite nice. He even wanted to have a day out as an ordinary person, with no damn demons or revenge, but unfortunately, there was no chance.

The cold wind swept by, lifting snowflakes like fluttering curtains, brushing across Lorenzo's cheeks, intensely cold.

"No, Lorenzo."

"What?"

Lorenzo looked at Watson, unable to hear her clearly.

"I said you can't die yet, Lorenzo."

Watson stood up, seeming to sense something, her expression becoming somewhat ambiguous.

"You will die eventually, just like all life reaches its end, but... not today, Lorenzo."

She looked at Lorenzo arrogantly, her gaze cold.

Lorenzo's heart trembled; for the first time, he was intimidated by this strange being. He could never figure out what she truly wanted or what she would do; then he heard the steady roar ringing in his ears.

"Isn't your fire still burning? Aren't you escaping because you simply have no hope anymore?"

Lorenzo stared at her dazedly, that hand penetrated his body, tightly grasping the heart that was gradually ceasing.

Yes, he had no hope at all. Under that bombardment, even with Secret Blood, he was as fragile as a common person, so he chose to face death calmly.

This wasn't escape, but desperate abandonment.

"I know you too well, Lorenzo."

"Those ancient pains have always tormented you, the flames of anger have always burned, you've long reached the depths of hell, unified with demons."

She whispered softly in his ear.

"There's a price for everything."

Intense pain burst forth from the heart, and the already calming beat roared back to life, like the sound of war drums.

"What... did you do?"

Lorenzo bent over in anguish, it was indescribable pain, seemingly torment from the soul.

"This is the price."

Watson pressed his head, forcing him to look at her.

"If the firewood has run out, then add more. You are destined to die in the surging flames, not just vanish peacefully.

This is part of the curse."

Therefore, in the burning battlefield, Selyu spoke in rage.

At this moment, her identity was no longer that of a protected beggar; she was Selyu, Selyu Stuart, the young Duke adorned with honor.

"If your existence is so fragile, then let me fortify it for you."

She murmured to herself, gripping the still-warm Broken Sword on the ground, disregarding the scorching heat, fiercely swinging it up.

"Grant you more... meaning to live..."

Selyu growled, like an immature lion cub.

"Lorenzo Holmes, I acknowledge your existence, the existence as a human!"

"In the name of Stuart."

The broken sword rested on the shattered shoulder.

"I bestow upon you!"

As if countless ghosts were screaming, they brandished swords and shields, chanting as if overlapping with everything from a century ago.

Warfare bestows! Warfare bestows! Warfare bestows!

They chanted.

Metallic resonance pierced through ancient history.

The tides of erosion burst from the dying remnants, spreading across every part of the battlefield in an instant.

The Geiger Counter aboard the Sailing Dawn reached its peak, Secret Blood surged, and the ancient curse dragged the dead souls back to the world.

[Secret Blood Awakening 31%]

The heart like a war drum roared with colossal sound.

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