Blood and rain were intertwined. Under this hazy rain curtain, the light was distorted into different shapes. The demons came one after another. They were like primitive beasts. All their actions were based on wild instincts. They were completely unaware of Lorenzo's power and just kept launching suicidal attacks on him.
The folding knife was slashing mechanically. While slashing, Lorenzo was also thinking about something. Looking at the faces wet by the rain, for the first time, Lorenzo no longer thought according to what the Demon Hunting Cult taught him.
When he was in the Demon Hunting Cult, the priests explained everything about demons from a theological perspective. But now, no longer from a religious perspective, but simply from a rational point of view, Lorenzo had countless questions.
Why are demons so thirsty for blood
The priests said that these were God's enemies, the evil creatures that had crawled out from God's shadow, but these evil creatures only killed humans and would not destroy other animals. This was too abnormal. It seemed that they killed humans only out of primitive desires. It could even be said that according to the "phototropism" proposed by Shermans, humans were the light in the eyes of the demons, the light that they would do anything to get.
Amidst the whimpering roars, broken limbs and bright red internal organs were scattered all over the ground. With Lorenzo's superb swordsmanship, these ordinary demons were easily cut into countless pieces. The blood rolled into the sewer with the rain. It seemed that the scavengers had work to do again.
"Moriarty...Moriarty of the Protestant Order..."
Lorenzo whispered the name. Moriarty gave Lorenzo a very different feeling. It was difficult for Lorenzo to describe that feeling. Or perhaps, Lorenzo could not see through this person.
At first, Lorenzo didn't realize that there was such a dangerous guy around him until Moriarty revealed his identity. Lorenzo thought he was a very vigilant person, but this time he didn't notice anything. It seemed that the damn smiling face was still in front of him, but the next moment that face turned into a crazy look.
"Lorenzo..."
A voice calling came from the wind and rain. Lorenzo paused for a moment, then he tightened his folding knife again.
All the demons were killed by him, and their corpses piled on the ground. The rainwater under his feet was also dyed dark red. They mixed together and flowed under Lorenzo's feet.
But at the end of the rain, there were vague figures calling Lorenzo's name. They walked towards him little by little in the puddles until Lorenzo could see them clearly.
"Yes...you..."
It was a nostalgic attire, but now the sacred robe was wet by the rain and looked disheveled.
It was the witchers. They came out from behind the rain with staggering steps. The closer they got to Lorenzo, the more obvious the abnormality became. At the same time, the calling voices became stronger and stronger. Countless voices gathered together and hit Lorenzo's eardrums.
"You should be dead already."
There was no trace of pain on Lorenzo's face, only endless doubt.
They were dead, Lorenzo had killed them with his own hands. On the ship that sailed away from Florence, he dealt with the last of the out-of-control witchers, completely incapacitated them, tied their bodies to anchors, and threw them into the dead silent sea, hoping that they would rest in peace.