Gun of Ashes-Chapter 610 - 146 Trace Source_3

042 felt a hint of fear, unable to clearly articulate the sensation, only perceiving it as terrifying to the extreme, as if something were staring at him from the corner of the shadows, slowly writhing until it crawled out of the darkness.

"They've come to kill me... It was only when I saw them that I understood everything. It's the thinking of mortals that has limited me; this world is a thousand times more complex than we imagined.

But unfortunately, I am Lorenzo de' Medici. How could I die so easily? I am the one set to lead the Golden Era!"

The old man seemed affected cognitively, unable to control his emotions, at times appearing maniacal and at others, silent like a statue.

"Who are they?"

042's pupils contracted with intense heartbeats.

The old man's speech paused, and he asked.

"You will die; those who touch the [Boundary] never meet a good end."

042's face turned pale, sensing that he was merely a step away from the world's Truth. Just a reach of his hand could uncover that delicate veil, but a profound fear seized him as well.

The old man was right; this was the [Boundary]. Once one understands all these, 042 too has touched the [Boundary], igniting and flickering in the dark, watched by all the peculiarities lurking there.

But 042 could not endure; he knew asking that question was the beginning of a disaster. Yet his curiosity overwhelmed him, unable to resist it, so he asked again.

"What exactly are they? What do they want?"

After a brief silence, the old man let out a hoarse laugh, reaching out to rub 042's head forcefully, as if stroking some adorable animal.

"Ah... human greed is too much. I'm simply too old. When I was young, I could hold these things tight in my hands, but now I am old, those people are starting to oppose me, and even Lawrence ultimately chose betrayal.

I discovered humanity needs a unified will, a strong will. Only then can the era of gold continue, and we can exterminate the Demons, instead of settling for the status quo.

Before retiring, I met the new Pope once. He was extremely confident, being the first in so many years to be free from my control. Then, within Saint Nalos Cathedral, I had the same conversation with him as now. I tried to convey these insights, but after listening, he refused to resist, declined to continue fighting.

I thought they would understand me, together building that perfect era, eradicating the Demons entirely. But, they refused; they feared the Truth, they dreaded death.

Only then did I realize these people are incapable of leading the Golden Era; they're just pigs satisfied with the status quo. What does it matter if there are more Demons? As long as Demon Hunters exist, they might be unable to shake their positions... just like when I first started, with enough food and drink, who cared about Demons?"

In a relaxed tone, the old man said words that invoked fear.

"Master."

Suddenly, the voice of a Demon Hunter interrupted, as he stood by the old man, reporting to him.

"011, what's happening, did someone see them?" the old man asked.

"Yes," 011 replied.

"How long?"

"About five minutes more."

The old man nodded, and continued speaking.

"Can you Shangdafeng Demon Hunters already see so far into the future?"

"Just temporarily. The blood of the Holy Grail is about to be exhausted. After it's all used up, at most we can see only a few seconds into the future," 011 answered.

"Is that so..."

The old man sighed deeply, muttering to himself.

"Sometimes I truly want to know what kind of future Lawrence saw, after all, he used so much of the Holy Grail's blood. I'm curious, what kind of future made him choose to betray me."

The old man turned his head, looking at the face beneath the hood, and asked again.

"Will you betray me? 011, you know, for you Shangdafeng Demon Hunters, reaching here without alarming the Order is not easy."

"No, we also long for that Golden Era," 011 said.

The old man looked him in the face and smiled.

"That's truly wonderful, all good children..."

"However... Master, previously you pre-installed those Holy Grail's blood on us, in addition to the portion he used," 011 said, his gaze falling on 042, "So what about you? You have no Holy Grail's blood to use now."

"No need to worry about that. Go prepare for our guests,"

the old man said, picking up the pocket watch on the small table, gently twisting it to start timing.

Five-minute countdown.

"Let's talk about the previous topic again. What exactly are they? What do they want? But before that, I want to tell you a mythological story, which might help you understand a bit."

The old man looked at 042 again, tightly gripping the exquisite pocket watch in his hand, feeling a faint tremor in its mechanical motion, like dissipating specks of dust, as time gently flowed in his hand.

"Do you know the Wild Hunt?"

"The Wild Hunt?"

042 vaguely remembered this concept, enjoying reading books, many books about mythological stories he had also browsed.

"Yes, the Wild Hunt, a legend circulating in the Western world, be it Leiber or Ingwig, or even the Viking nations which have records of it. Although the specifics vary based on region, there is a common description among them."