Chapter 1458: Homecoming

The Holy Hall Knights were screaming, crying, continuously praying, pleading for mercy to a God as vague as a mist. Under the cruelty of blood and fire, their unprecedented piety seemed to almost sacrifice their entire being to God, yet such devotion brought nothing in return. The Demons were still advancing, and the defenses organized by mortals were terribly fragile against sharp fangs and claws.

Medici Square had turned into a slaughterhouse of flesh and blood, bodies falling in shattered, unrecognizable forms. Blood flowed through the brick seams, seeping into the earth below.

The blazing firelight shone on the central statue of Lorenzo de’ Medici, with light and blood distorting the sculpture’s features, as if an evil spirit had possessed it. At this moment, the statue came alive, savoring their death and pain.

Fear captured the hearts of these people. Without anyone to suppress the fear and face it all head-on, they fought their own battles, chaotically, like a flock of sheep with a broken fence facing a pack of hungry wolves, running desperately.

“Someone… someone save me.”

A Holy Hall Knight called out for help this way, standing on the inner defense line, able to clearly see the advancing Demons and the Holy Hall Knights battling them at the forefront.

His body was trembling violently, so much so that he couldn’t even hold his sword. He let go of the blade, hearing the crisp clang as it hit the ground, then slowly knelt, prostrating on the ground and praying to a nonexistent God.

“Stand up!”

Someone beside him cursed angrily, trying to pull him up, but he remained unmoved.

The two tugged at each other until, at a certain moment, the pulling action halted. The Holy Hall Knight kneeling on the ground raised his head slightly, only to see a headless body standing next to him, blood still seeping from the neck stump.

“Ha… Ha… Ah!”

He gasped violently, then screamed loudly, fear and disgust rolling within his body. His screams didn’t last long, as vomit surged up from his stomach and clogged his throat. He vomited on the ground, as if expelling his soul along with it.

Before any further action could be taken, more bodies pressed down upon him, pinning him in the darkness. Then a Demon swept by, its blade rendering all into a spray of flesh.

It started snowing.

Someone looked up, and against the light of the fire, the particles scattered in the air became clear, falling down and leaving sticky scarlet spots on the body.

Red snow, snow tainted with fear and death.

“Don’t run! Reorganize the formation!”

Those who maintained their sanity shouted, knowing that in both strength and speed, the Demons far outmatched them. All they could do was utilize their own advantages to combat the Demons as best as they could.

Some followed the instruction, some fled in panic, and others knelt dumbly on the ground, silently awaiting death.

Eyes bypassed those people, looking instead at those who were approaching him, knowing he must seize this last chance of survival.

With that thought, the next moment, a dark shadow enveloped him.

He froze entirely, like prey under the gaze of a predator, every nerve in his body emitting warnings and fear.

A foul and murky stench hit him, and he met a pair of scarlet eyes.

“Damn it!”

He cursed loudly, thrusting the sword in his hand. This was the final act of defiance in life, at least he would die with dignity.

Metal sliced, flesh easily severed, the sound of cracking bones echoed.

The man paused for a moment, never imagining his swordsmanship and strength to be so formidable, then realized there was no blood on his sword as the Demon’s body fell, revealing the person standing behind it.

“Take them away, hide in the buildings, I’ll hold them here.”

Samuel spoke coldly, the blazing white in his eyes emitting waves of chilling light.

“Okay… okay.”

The man replied stiffly, soon realizing that Samuel wasn’t speaking to him, but another person answered, rushing out from the side.

“Follow me! Find cover, don’t fight these monsters in the open!”

Nord swung his sword, severing a Demon’s arm. Unburdened by armor, his speed increased, narrowly dodging several fierce attacks.

One man alone was still too vulnerable. The monsters were incredibly agile, he needed to hide in a building, restricting their movements as much as possible.

Seeing Nord, those people’s spirits were pulled somewhat from the clutches of fear. They knew Nord, knew his identity as a Centurion.

“What about you? Samuel, are you okay?”

Amidst the chaos, Nord shouted to Samuel. Too many demons had gathered in the square, and he thought it unfeasible for Samuel to confront them all alone.

To this, Samuel replied calmly.

“Maybe not if I were from another faction, but I am Yanar, the immortal Yanar.”

This was something Nord did not understand, having no knowledge of the factions among Demon Hunters, nor the nature of the Authority, but he heard confidence in Samuel’s voice.

Turning back, Nord randomly chose a building from the surrounding blocks near the square, then commanded the others to retreat. Some Demons tried to continue pursuing, but they caught the sweet scent floating in the air, turning to focus on the burning bright white.