The once prosperous and sacred St. Naro Cathedral was now completely engulfed in flames. Everything within sight was covered in a layer of scarlet, as if it was soaked with blood.
The firelight slightly distorted the surrounding objects, making them look ferocious and fierce, as if the dead objects came alive at this moment, looking hideous and terrifying, and whispering forbidden curses.
"Perhaps... real hell is just like this."
The witcher dragged his injured foot and moved forward with difficulty.
There was hot smoke floating in the air, and breathing became difficult. Every time he breathed in and out, it felt like a burning knife was cutting across his throat. He coughed a few times, and blood flowed out of his mouth and nose.
The gray-white walls were burned black, and the metal products began to burn red and melt. The candles scattered on the stairs had long since turned into a pool of hot wax, mixed with the blood.
As a demon hunter of the new sect, he had only heard of the legendary Night of the Holy Coming and did not know the full picture. However, he guessed that what he was experiencing now might not be much different from the Night of the Holy Coming.
Another Advent Night.
He actually felt excited just thinking about it. This was like the holy war recorded in ancient books. Now he was on the battlefield, fighting against the devil.
This was a great honor, and he greedily enjoyed this fear and glory, refusing to share it with anyone.
Perhaps this is the power of faith, or perhaps... blind and stupid madness.
Such madness made the witcher not afraid of the heavy fireworks and hatred. Instead, it made him eager to fight. He clenched the warhammer in his hand, looking forward to smashing one hideous head after another.
The secret blood continued to rise. Without the restraint of the silver-binding bolt, it was very easy for him to reach the critical point. He just needed to make up his mind.
The body's self-healing process began to accelerate, and the staggering right foot gradually stabilized. Finally, it moved forward steadily as if it had never been injured.
Fireworks grew all over his body, almost condensing into substance, like some kind of glowing crystals, entwining and wriggling around the witcher's body.
The tremendous power added to his body made him even stronger, and his expression became as ferocious as that of a wild beast.
A shrill whistle was heard, and the wall on one side was knocked open. A blurry black shadow crashed directly into the witcher. With the help of the rolling fireworks, he could barely see the attacking demon, but before it could get close to the witcher, there was a loud bang and it was pushed away heavily.
Michael the Mighty.
Extreme fireworks erupted from the demon hunter's body, forming a blazing white tornado in the narrow and enclosed space. The raging flames pushed the demon away, burning its body at the same time.
The part of the body that was facing the witcher was burned clean in an instant, and the skin dissipated like broken dust, revealing scarlet flesh. The flesh did not last long either, as it was burned black and shattered, followed by blood vessels and bones.
The blood evaporated before it could scatter, and the bones began to collapse. The demon fell from the fireball. It struggled to get up, but half of its body was destroyed by the high temperature in the instant contact.
The broken bones and burnt internal organs were clearly visible, and the head was a bloody mess. Only a single eye was struggling to open its eyes amidst the sticky blood, peering at the witcher.