In the dark corridor, the sound of approaching footsteps gradually sounded, getting closer and closer, bringing with it panic and fear, like a poor man being chased by a nightmare, his heartbeat quickened, his blood became hot, and emotions of fear continued to accumulate, like a accumulating volcano, accumulating malice, until it broke out at a certain moment.
Anthony was gasping for breath, holding onto the wall. It was clearly just a simple escape, but he felt as if he had just fought a difficult battle and was exhausted. Every inch of his body seemed to be grabbed by countless hands, which pulled Anthony hard, trying to drag him into the water.
The exit was right in front of him. Anthony rushed into the elevator. The rusty iron bars slowly closed, and then the whole elevator began to rise. Among the dust and dim light, Anthony could hear the roar of a wild beast, followed by more thunderous sword sounds.
The metals collided and rubbed against each other, being torn into countless broken iron chips, and finally returned to the dust, disappearing without a trace.
"Your Majesty..."
Anthony stared at the rising gap, trying to see the crazy battlefield through it, but this was just a beautiful expectation. Nothing could be seen from here, only thick darkness.
Leaning against a corner, still some distance away from the Gate of Heaven, this place temporarily became an undisturbed shelter where Anthony could rest for a short while. Here, no one would see what he did, even his fear and crying.
No one knows what is going on in his mind, just like no one knows why separation always comes so suddenly and without any warning.
But think about it, this is what reality should be like, bizarre and mysterious, not like in literary operas, with long passages of elaboration. In reality, both life and death are just a matter of a moment.
Anthony's rest did not last long. Soon the elevator arrived at the gate of heaven. The door engraved with demons and angels slowly opened, and a dusty light fell, shining through the iron bars onto Anthony.
He raised his head, his eyes were bloodshot, he stood up listlessly, straightened his disheveled clothes, he coughed a few times, and as the iron bars were completely opened, Anthony walked out of the shadows, his expression changed from calm to ferocious, the fragility just now was gone, he was fully armed again.
"Father!"
Someone shouted.
"Father Anthony!"
There were more voices calling him, waiting for his response.
I saw that the demon hunters had already gathered here. They looked nervous and held sharp spike swords in their hands.
The moment the black fog erupted from the deep well, the stench, decay, disgusting and distorted feeling spread out. Ordinary people might just feel a little disgusted, but these demon hunters were keenly aware of it and rushed here.
"What should we do?"
Samuel walked forward and didn't ask what happened. He just waited for Anthony's instructions.
Anthony looked at them, was silent for a few seconds, and his eyes became firm again.
"Guard the gate of heaven and block the Cathedral of San Naro!"
Following his words, the witchers took action, just like the Holy Night many years ago. Perhaps the cycle of history really exists. Everything that is happening now is so familiar. It keeps repeating itself, and every time people are about to forget it, it crawls out from the shadows again, like the dead who refuse to be forgotten.