This is a mythical ritual, solemn and dignified.

It descended from the heavens, seemingly a messenger of God, yet perhaps a betrayer of faith, surrounded by steel feathers like countless descending sharp swords, ready to judge all the guilty.

Selyu could only stand as an observer and witness it all, watching quietly as the dark angel slowly landed upon the shattered body of Lorenzo.

It seemed to be the Death God from the myth, coming to take away this lost soul, yet also as if it came to save it, though this gift originated from the Devil.

Lorenzo was not dead yet, at the last moment, the Secret Blood broke through the threshold, and he had entered into demonization. To completely kill a Demon, the heart and brain must be destroyed.

The deforming growth of power left him lingering at the edge of life, while the Silver Binding Bolt rapidly disintegrated, scalding Holy Silver mixed into his blood, accelerating his death.

Destruction and rebirth coexist.

Although he was still alive, death was imminent. Lorenzo had only two paths to walk.

Continue maintaining the demonization until he falls into darkness, obtaining immortality with a demonic body, or calm the violent Secret Blood and die consciously as a human.

This was not a difficult choice; by Lorenzo's reasoning, he would gladly die as a human, but this time, the power of choice was not in his hands.

The dark angel gently picked up the dying corpse, dragging him out from the twisted steel, and at that moment, Selyu clearly saw the weight of Lorenzo's devastation.

She thought Lorenzo's lower body was buried in the soil, but in fact, he had hardly any lower body remaining. Half of his body had already been completely destroyed in a violent explosion. From the terrifying wound in the abdomen, it was empty inside, all viscera and bones vanished, as if it were a burnt-out skeleton.

"No, no, no..."

Selyu couldn't even bear to look at that scene.

The once powerful Demon Hunter was like a broken doll, fabric torn, stuffing spilled everywhere.

Strong blood sustained that shattered life, like a flame flickering in the wind, possibly overturning in the next moment.

But then, an even more forbidden scene appeared in everyone's view.

The Black Angel gazed at the corpse, slowly opening its hands as if to embrace him.

The Armor began to crack, and the demon's flesh opened a gap in the chest plate, with nothing beneath, just emptiness. No one was operating this Armor, as it devoured the corpse bit by bit like a monstrous maw, then closed shut.

Like a blacksmith's furnace, but this time it was forging that sinful life. Rushing steam poured from the exhaust, the engine roared into operation, crazily proliferating flesh filled every gap.

The safety protocols from the initial design were breached one by one. The flesh surpassed the internal protective armor, proliferating into the pilot's space, wrapping around Lorenzo's fragmented corpse, beginning to gradually assimilate with that flesh.

This is the danger of the First Generation Armor. Demonic flesh occupies a significant portion, and during the fall into erosion, it would integrate and assimilate. Galahad nearly died here; his entire back got connected with the Armor, like a grotesque conjoined twin.

Now this bizarre occurrence happened to Lorenzo, but the difference was that it was extending his life.

They fused together, using the organs of the Demon to fill Lorenzo's deficiencies.

But this demonic flesh originally had no consciousness; its every action followed the instincts of the Holy Grail Flesh, yet now another consciousness seemed to control it, steering it towards a direction defying the laws.

The proliferating flesh connected to Lorenzo's body, differentiating in a short time into various external organs outside the corpse, injecting more flesh to carry out bizarre external circulation to sustain life.

Broken metal was expelled under the pressure of muscles, twisted bones began to reposition. Several breathing ports cracked open on the Armor's exterior, infusing massive fresh oxygen into the blood, transporting it to the internal core, temporarily replacing the function of the lungs.

It seemed as if the world's best doctors gathered here, continuously wielding a scalpel along the dying person's body, dragging him back from the brink of death bit by bit.

This is something that appeared only in medical imaginings, but now it's happening inside the Armor, yet it was still not enough, not enough.

"Lorenzo, you cannot die yet."

In a daze, Lorenzo heard someone say that.

The current sensation felt magical, like soaking in warm seawater, wrapped by a gentle force.

An unprecedented serenity and peace, beneath which that voice now seemed very noisy.

"But what are you going to do?"

Lorenzo strained to open his eyes and asked towards the unknown.

He was truly going to die, the injuries so severe, even the Secret Blood couldn't heal him. He had no hope whatsoever.

"Watson, sometimes this curse thing is unreliable."

Lorenzo spoke again.

It seems Watson did not want to die with him; she was just trying to motivate him one last time, but Lorenzo did not want to try anymore, to rest peacefully like this would be the perfect ending.

"No, Lorenzo."

In the warm ocean, someone reached out and caressed his cheek.

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