Chapter 212: Lanevus's Escape
The team was actually led by a senior deacon, and a senior deacon who was carrying a holy relic.
Angel breathed a sigh of relief. Lanevus would be unable to escape now.
She watched as three Night Watchmen carried a strange mirror into the guild dormitory and closed the door behind them. Then, the area around East Balam Dockyard returned to calm. The airship's propellers had stopped, and it remained afloat, relying on the buoyancy of hydrogen.
Only the machine gun on the box shook from time to time, indicating that time here had not stood still.
Angel waited patiently, waiting for the outcome of the battle in the dormitory, waiting for Lanevus to die under the goddess' sword.
At this moment, she discovered that the gas lamps near the dormitory went out one by one, from near to far, as if the flames were blown out by the spreading wind. Then, the extremely majestic airship floating nearby seemed to have lost its buoyancy, and began to slowly fall in a spin. The propeller spun violently like crazy, trying to restore the airship's stability, but to no avail.
At the center of these visions, the dock workers' union dormitory erupted with an extremely terrifying and evil aura. It was the aura of the "True Creator" that Angel had felt many times during this period!
This aura swept across the falling airship and enveloped Angel. She felt as if swept by an invisible storm. Her whole body was instantly cold, and her hands and feet were numb. It was as if she had returned to Tingen City and faced Megose and the evil offspring in her womb. It was also like the two times she had seen the bronze-skinned Lanevus in divination, and how he was struck back by the Creator's divinity.
Could it be that the evil god has returned? Where are the Red Gloves? Where is "Goddess Sword" Cecima?
She gritted her teeth, held on to the railing in front of her with her hands to keep herself from falling to the ground with her legs going limp, and stared at the brick-red building.
Should I go in and fight for it? Perhaps Lanevus and the Red Gloves were engaged in a fierce battle in the dormitory, and I was the final straw that broke the camel's back.
But will rashly joining the battle affect the Red Gloves who are already fighting?
Just as he was hesitating, the evil aura of the true Creator suddenly disappeared, as if He had never been there.
The streetlights lit up again one by one, and the airship that had almost touched the ground stopped its downward trend, stabilized its posture, and began to rise slowly.
Has the winner been decided?
Angel trembled as she regained her footing and watched the airship float high into the sky. Machine guns and artillery pieces were pointed at the brick-red dormitory building, waiting for the final outcome just like her.
She took out the magic mirror from her bosom, blew on it to polish the mirror surface, then infused it with spirituality and tried to do divination.
"Mirror, Mirror, tell me the current condition of Creste Cesimma."
Avoiding the divination target that might be counterattacked, Angel first asked the magic mirror about the other party in the battle.
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In the brick-red union dormitory, in the lobby on the first floor, several men in black robes were lying on the ground, their bodies riddled with bullet holes and blood all over the floor.
Two men in windbreakers and red gloves leaned against the wall, their eyes closed, unconscious. Between them stood a simple mirror, facing upwards, reflecting the ceiling of the hall.
"Sword of the Goddess" Creste Cesimar knelt on one knee, his windbreaker torn into strips, and the white shirt underneath was covered in blood. He supported his body with his red-gloved hands, stretched his neck, and looked at the stairs in front of him. The silver-white box beside him was open, and the inside was empty.
As the senior deacon opened his mouth to breathe, twisted faces appeared on his teeth, as if they were screaming, as if there were ghosts living in them.
At the end of his sight, a pure white bone sword, the holy relic he never left behind, was stuck between the chest and abdomen of the dark-skinned, angular-faced Lanevus. Only the hilt was visible. A large area of flesh on Lanevus's chest seemed to have disappeared, leaving a hole so empty that he could even see the wall behind him through it.
Lanevus stood upright, unaffected by the fatal wound. He even smiled with his signature mocking smile.
"You hardworking night owls, just like that time in Tingen, lived up to my expectations. Although you missed the traces of the mutant animals I deliberately created and overlooked the prostitutes I tortured and killed, you eventually caught a clue during that idiotic Rose Bishop's operation to silence me, found my residence, and helped me break free from the influence of the True Creator."
"Thank you, thank you so much. Don't worry, I'm not being sarcastic this time. I'm sincerely thanking you. Look into my sincere eyes!"
He spoke very quickly with a sarcastic tone, and pulled out the pure white bone sword from his chest with an exaggerated movement. The wound lost the support of the weapon, but not much blood flowed out. Instead, a few wriggling granulations gradually grew from the inside, slowly repairing the wound that went from front to back.
"As a thank you, let me use this sword to send you on your way," Lanevus brandished the bone sword and slowly approached Cesimar. "Unfortunately, I can't keep this weapon, or you'll use it to track me. Anything capable of killing the true Creator's divinity, even a hint of it, must be a High-Sequence Sealed Artifact. Hmm, that's what you call a magical item, right?"
Talking to himself like a chatterbox, he approached the half-kneeling Cesimar. A gleam of light flashed in the latter's eyes, and the surrounding space was instantly enveloped by a tranquil atmosphere.
Feeling this tranquility, Lanevus, holding the bone sword, suddenly felt that he should have a good sleep on the floor of the hall until dawn. His eyelids had the same thought, becoming heavy and gradually closing.
Just as his eyes were about to close, his expression changed and he bit the tip of his tongue to wake himself up.
"You still have strength... Humph."
With a cold snort, he threw the bone sword. His target was not Cesimar, who had her eyes half-closed, ready to pull the enemy into a dream, but the unconscious Night Watchman in the corner.
"No!"
Cesimar shouted loudly, his eyes wide open, and he waved his hand to use the strength he had accumulated with great difficulty, guiding the bone sword to the side, brushing against the Night Watcher's body and piercing into the wall.
During this brief moment, Lanevus quickly shook off the influence of the dream. He didn't dare attempt to kill the unpredictable "Sword of the Goddess" again. Instead, he turned and hurried upstairs, climbing out of the stairwell window. He landed lightly in the alley behind the dormitory.
He skillfully lifted the manhole cover on the ground, climbed up the ladder with both hands, and slid down directly into the sewer.
Several night watchmen are no longer able to fight, and it may take several minutes for the airship outside to discover the abnormality. This is the time I have to escape!
"Pah pah pah."
Stepping on the shallow sewage, the wounds on his chest and abdomen slowly being repaired by the granulation tissue, Lanevus felt like he had returned home in the sewer. He skillfully navigated one bend after another, occasionally choosing to backtrack slightly at a fork in the road and enter another passage, but he always stayed away from the East Balam Dockyard.
I just need to run a few hundred meters, back to the ground, back to the streets of the East District, and these stupid Nighthawks won't be able to find me...
He suddenly stopped and stood in the middle of the passage.
A figure appeared in the open space in front of him.
In Lanevus's dark vision, the other party took off her hood as if she didn't care about exposing her identity, revealing a round, featureless young female face. Her long black hair fluttered in the wind, like a demon seeking revenge.
"Great, you're not dead yet."
Her clear and beautiful voice was filled with a hint of relief, almost making Lanevus think she was there to help him.
"Someone is lying in ambush here. I was wondering how I could smell blood from so far away."
Looking back in the direction of East Balam Dockyard, he took a deep breath and started chatting with them as if they were old friends.
"Is it possible that the smell comes from your hands, which are stained with the blood of innocent people?"
The mysterious woman approached step by step, leisurely took out the dagger behind her, and quickly drew her fingers along the blade, igniting a black flame. The dagger danced like a torch in her nimble hands.
"Innocent people? Who?" Lanevus stepped back, searching for other escape routes while mocking him. "Sorry, there are so many, I can't remember them all."
"It's okay, I'll make you remember."
To his surprise, the other party was not angered by his verbal attack. Instead, a smile appeared on that featureless, expressionless round face.
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