Old Dunling was protected by a complex web of systems and institutions. Though the storm obscured their vision, Black Mountain Hospital had remained in communication with the Shattered Dome until several hours ago, when all contact was suddenly lost. Under one of the disaster-response protocols, the loss of contact with Arthur and the entirety of Black Mountain Hospital triggered the emergency plan, and the Scavengers were deployed.
Just as their name suggested, the Scavengers were responsible for cleaning up after supernatural operations. Under certain circumstances, they were also tasked with cleaning up the aftermath of failed operations by the Exorcism Bureau.
According to the Seer System's assessment of the level of Corrosion within Black Mountain Hospital, and based on Arthur and Gawain's final communication before contact was lost, the Scavengers knew that a tide of demons had erupted inside the hospital. Given the hospital's importance and geographical location, they had temporarily classified Arthur as killed in action and Black Mountain Hospital itself as a fallen zone.
To call them a special force that fought demons was almost misleading. They were closer to an army. Most of their members were veterans who had retired from the main forces of the Exorcism Bureau and were no longer capable of directly confronting demons. For that reason, the Scavengers had brought the Ascalon to bear against Black Mountain Hospital, clearing the way for the forces that would follow.
A rain of fire descended from the heavens. It annihilated demons and buildings alike, reducing one structure after another to ruin. Countless armored iron serpents raced along the railway tracks beneath the storm, rapidly closing the encirclement around Black Mountain Hospital. Not a single demon would be allowed to escape.
"Are they trying to kill us too?"
Beneath the shelter, Red Kite screamed. He had considered the possibility of being killed by a demon, but judging from the situation now, he would probably be killed by his own people before the demons ever got the chance.
"That's how the Scavengers operate," Arthur replied. "And they've given us a chance."
"What chance? A warning to evacuate?"
Red Kite could not help cursing, but this time Arthur had no time to answer him. A violent explosion sent a wave of heat crashing over them. Only moments ago, the rain had been bitterly cold. Now it felt as though they had been thrown into boiling water.
The Scavengers had indeed given them a chance, but it was not an evacuation warning. The moment contact with Black Mountain Hospital was lost, the emergency protocol had begun counting down. Only after all that time had passed without a response did the Scavengers make their decision.
In a sense, although the Scavengers belonged to the Exorcism Bureau, unlike Black Mountain Hospital and the Perpetual Motion Pump, they existed entirely independently. Arthur had no authority over them.
It sounded strange—almost unbelievable—but that was simply the truth.
The Scavengers themselves were an emergency protocol. If the command structure was completely corrupted and overrun by demons, the Scavengers would become the new Exorcism Bureau, purging the old and corrupted institution in its entirety.
They were the Exorcism Bureau's final safeguard, the sword hanging perpetually above the heads of its commanders. For that reason, the Scavengers had to keep their own existence as inconspicuous as possible, lest the corrupted command structure detect them and destroy them before they could act.
That was also why the Scavengers were the only organization within the Exorcism Bureau authorized to employ antimemetic technology.
As a commander, this was where Arthur's knowledge of the Scavengers ended. Their very existence was meant to restrain the command structure, and the rest of the information concerning them was firmly protected by the effects of antimemetics.
Merciless toward their enemies, and equally merciless toward their own.
That was entirely in keeping with the Exorcism Bureau's way of doing things.
The others could hardly believe the rain of fire descending upon them, but Arthur understood it. He was not surprised in the slightest.
To keep demons beyond the boundaries of human perception, the Exorcism Bureau had become the wall standing between humanity and the supernatural. That was its ultimate creed, an inviolable line that could never be crossed. To prevent the demons from spreading beyond that boundary, the Scavengers might be willing to do even more insane things.
The ground shook beneath continuous thunder. It hardly mattered how many demons or survivors remained above ground; most of them would probably be buried beneath this baptism of fire.
Shrieks and howls rose through the storm. An iron-armored demon was struck by a massive shell. Under such overwhelming firepower, even its armor could offer little protection when hit directly.
The iron plating shattered. Scorching heat poured over its body, molten metal flowing across its flesh. Through the enormous wound, malformed tissue could be seen growing grotesquely beneath the armor.
"Lancelot!"
Someone roared his name.
Then, amid the chaos and despair, heavy footsteps thundered forward.
Through the curtain of rain and rising steam, a gaunt knight smashed through the barrier. The steam engine within his armor was running beyond its limits, and beneath the seams of the divine armor burned a crimson glow like the heart of the sun. The scalding white vapor had barely begun to disperse before the knight's rapid movement stretched it into thin, pale threads.
At this moment of apocalypse, Percival burst from the shelter with her greatsword in hand. Confusion, fear, grief—all of it had been washed away beneath the merciless rain of reason.
This was a perfect opportunity.
If they failed to kill this troublesome demon now, its terrifying vitality, granted by the Secret Blood, would make it even harder to deal with.
Her answer came in the form of falling thunder.
A grappling hook shot through the chaos and struck directly into the soft flesh beneath the wound. Previously, the iron armor had protected Lancelot so thoroughly that his hooks could never penetrate the demon's body. But now, at last, he had an opening.
In an instant, the divine armor descended like a phantom of deep blue. The long, razor-sharp twin blades plunged into the wound.
Iron armor could protect against attacks from outside.
It could not defend against tearing from within.
Pierce.
Slash.
The wound was torn open into the shape of a cross. Along the path carved by the blades, the flesh split apart, spilling blazing blood.
Lancelot could smell the blood.
The sensation was exquisite.
Even though he was already standing in hell.
Arthur had been right. He was a knight by birth, possessed of a will of iron that surpassed all others, and a desire so ravenous that even demons found it difficult to corrupt and devour.
The desire for freedom.
Ever since he had first possessed memories, Lancelot had known of the mysterious King's Curse. At first, he had been too innocent to understand what it truly meant. Like a childish game, he had never taken it seriously.
That innocent dream had lasted for a very long time.
Until one day, while running, he stumbled and fell onto the grass.
Blood poured endlessly from his knee.
And the dream ended.
He had witnessed the deaths of members of the royal family with his own eyes. They could no longer move. Their swollen bodies were wedged into exquisite baby carriages, their deathly pale faces screaming meaninglessly. They could clearly feel the blood moving beneath their skin, yet there was nothing anyone could do about the internal bleeding that had already spread deep into their bodies.
It was a slow funeral.
Lancelot watched as they slowly died.
It was nothing like the priests had said. They did not pass peacefully into the land of rest with serene expressions upon their faces.
Their faces twisted in agony until the very end, the pain permanently carved into their pallid skin like a sculpture.
Someone once told Lancelot that this would be his fate too.
The fate of every Victorian.
"How wonderful…"
A faint voice sounded from beneath the divine armor.
Lancelot felt cold.
The rain had soaked him through, and the dampness continued to seep deeper.
There was little room inside the divine armor. His vision was completely restricted to the narrow opening of his visor. He could not see the condition of his own body, but he knew that he was dying.
It was not merely because of the rain of fire filling the sky, nor because of these troublesome demons.
The sound was faint, but Lancelot could hear it.
The sound of blood rushing through his veins.
The wound on his knee throbbed with pain. Blood continued to pour from it, seeping through the gaps in his armor.
Yet he felt no fear of death.
Instead, he was filled with overwhelming joy.
He had broken free from that dark destiny.
He would not die like a helpless infant inside that ridiculous baby carriage.
He would die as a Knight Commander, on a battlefield, fighting demons.
After a brief moment of pain, the demon began its counterattack.
Its mind had already been lost. It could only act on instinct. Its body had become bloated and clumsy under the constant growth of divine armor, and even its movements now appeared painfully slow.
As its joints ground against one another, the iron plates collided, producing a sound that sent shivers through the soul.
"Keep going, Lancelot!"
Percival brought her greatsword down, locking the demon's attack in place and buying Lancelot precious time.
The glow beneath the seams of the armor grew increasingly crimson. Inside the divine armor, Percival was almost completely engulfed by the demon's proliferating flesh.
The demon was simply too enormous.
As its body continued to grow in grotesque directions, its original form had become almost impossible to discern. Lancelot stabbed rapidly into the flesh, but no matter how many times he attacked, he could not reach the heart buried beneath layer after layer of tissue, let alone sever its head.
The demons' shrieks merged into a single deafening howl.
Countless creatures charged beneath the rain of fire, rushing toward the area beneath the dome. They had realized that disaster was upon them, and instinct drove them toward this place in search of escape.
The area that had once been relatively safe became even more dangerous.
Red Kite and the others had no choice but to continue fighting the demons pouring in. Otherwise, before the rain of fire could kill them, the creatures would tear them apart with their teeth.
"What's happening, Joey?"
At the end of the passage, Joey had just organized the evacuation into the research area when he turned back.
"The demons are heading this way. And the Ascalon bombardment destroyed the passage…" Joey replied. "Half the people are still on the other side."
By now, emotionally, he could barely react to anything anymore.
"Over here!"
Blue Jade waved to them.
They had gathered beside the wreckage of the Third-Generation Divine Armor. Using the remains of the armor and the angle formed by the surrounding structures, they had turned the spot into a temporary fortress.
It was terrible news.
Not only had their retreat been cut off, but as the rain of fire continued to fall, demons from every direction were converging on their position.
Soon, this place would become the final battlefield.
Humans and demons alike would settle the matter here.
The howls drew closer.
The demons tore and bit their way forward. The thermite rifles were almost completely empty. Everyone had been forced into close combat. Some had managed to get their hands on folding knives, while most were fighting with broken pieces of metal scavenged from the ground.
"Eve! Get to Blue Jade! Everyone, fall back there!"
Arthur shouted the order.
Everyone moved again.
Eve gripped her folding knife and hacked down several demons. She tried to make her way toward Blue Jade's position, but one demon after another blocked her path.
A murderous aura suddenly rose behind her.
Using the cover of the torrential rain, a demon silently crept up beside Eve. Just as it prepared to leap, a massive piece of broken metal came crashing down with brutal force, smashing its skull into fragments.
Eve turned around.
Standing there was Derren, looking unbearably pleased with himself.
His white hospital gown had been completely soaked through and dyed red with blood. He also appeared to have suffered a few injuries.
Perhaps because they were patients to begin with, the sick had always tended to fall into two extremes when confronted with demons. Some were almost incapable of recognizing the horror before them and were therefore difficult to affect. Others were tormented by nightmares within their own minds, making them especially vulnerable to corruption.
Derren was clearly the former.
He immediately made an elegant gesture toward Eve.
For a moment, Eve had absolutely no idea what this lunatic was trying to do.
Then Derren realized she had not understood his meaning.
"Ladies first."
Eve was momentarily at a loss whether to admire Derren's gentlemanly manners or simply conclude that he really was insane. The world was practically ending around them, and somehow she still had no idea what was going through his head.
"Thank you!"
She shouted the words and immediately charged through the path those lunatics had carved open.
The rain of fire threatened the survivors.
It threatened the demons as well.
Arthur stared at the massive lift platform being washed by rain and blood. Ascalon shells exploded across its surface, scattering molten iron and shockwaves that tore through most of the demons. The bombardment relieved some of the pressure on Arthur and the others, and with it came the faintest glimmer of hope.
Arthur did not know exactly how the Scavengers operated.
But the fire support had arrived.
As long as they endured, there was a chance they might survive.
Most of the people had already retreated to the wreckage of the Third-Generation Divine Armor. Arthur was preparing to move as well when he turned around and saw Cole and Gawain standing motionless in the rain.
The battle was, in truth, nearing its end.
All they had to do was survive a little longer.
Arthur tried to call out to the patients and tell them to retreat to safety, but remembering the fogged and confused state of their minds, he was not even certain whether he could persuade them.
He was just about to speak when Cole said,
"Ah… what a long-forgotten feeling…"
Cole rubbed his eyes and looked carefully at the world once more.
"Cole…"
Arthur froze.
He tried to say something, but nothing came out.
Looking at that aged face, Arthur could hardly believe what he was seeing.
"You…"
Cole turned toward him.
The cloudy gaze in his eyes had become clear once more.
So much time had passed, yet to Cole, it seemed as though everything had happened only yesterday.
"Long time no see, Arthur."
Arthur could barely breathe.
He did not know whether this was merely the final flicker of a dying flame or something else entirely. But as the corruption intensified, the things it had once taken from them seemed to be returning, little by little.
Some of the other patients were like Cole.
Like newborn children, they looked upon the end of the world with eyes that had only just regained their reason.
"Co… Cole, come with me! We can't stay here!"
Arthur's heart clenched.
There were so many things he wanted to ask.
But in the end, these were the only words he could force himself to say.
Cole refused.
He slowly raised one hand, his expression filled with complicated emotions.
"I can't keep living."
"The treatment those doctors gave me only postponed this. Now it's here."
The old arm had already begun to change.
Just like the demons they knew so well, the bones beneath his skin had begun to twist into a faintly grotesque shape.
These patients had never truly escaped the corruption.
And now, with the demons drawing near, the wounds left behind by that corruption were beginning to worsen once more.