It was a horror beyond description, as though every nauseating thing in existence had gathered into one writhing mass, slowly twisting upon itself while releasing eldritch cries that clawed at the mind.
The bodies of those indescribable beings were covered in terrifying symbols. Emerging from the mist, they advanced upon the demon hunters without pause, seeking absolute death—an eternal stillness where all things would finally fall silent.
Even resolute hearts trembled.
Within the teachings of the Order, all aberrations were categorized as demons. Yet this… this power did not belong to demons. It came from something else entirely—something unknown.
And it was the unknown that birthed fear.
The demon hunters shuddered for only a fleeting moment before tightening their grips around their nail-swords. Their eyes sharpened with ferocity as blazing fury ignited within them.
That was what separated them from ordinary men.
They were demon hunters—masters of slaughter, merciless executioners forged for the hunt.
Cowardice. Compassion. Weakness.
They had cast aside every frailty of humanity and walked the battlefields of despair with absolute reason as their only guide.
"We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."
016 whispered the prayer softly, her clear voice like the only light left within the dark.
And in the next instant, the hunters lunged forth like ravenous tigers.
042 charged at the forefront. He refused to look directly at those grotesque entities, instead tracking them through the edges of his vision. Protected by the Divine Armor, he could ignore most forms of attack.
His nail-sword swept outward, scattering curtains of blood into the air.
Bolts tore through the fog one after another, carving silver trails through the gray mist. Amidst it all, 011 never ceased moving. Unlike 042's relentless advance, he drifted through the battlefield as lightly as a feather. Countless blades descended in the chaos, yet every strike grazed past him by mere inches.
He tightened his grip on the nail-sword, and each time he brushed past those twisted creatures, the blade carved savage wounds into their flesh.
Shang Da Feng was protecting him.
In those prophetic eyes, the future had already been decided. Amid the countless intersections of death, the single path to survival had already been found.
042's assault was fanatical.
He paid no attention to enemy attacks. Rusted blades crashed against the Divine Armor, exploding into showers of sparks that barely slowed him. As he swung, the black hardened substance coating his armor spread along his arm and began to grow over the nail-sword itself.
These enemies were not demons. The holy silver embedded within the nail-sword no longer possessed its suppressive power against them.
So all he needed to do was increase the scale of destruction.
In truth, the power of Metatron was best suited for frontal warfare. Wrapped within Divine Armor, its wielders became unstoppable spearheads. Neither arrows nor bullets could force them back.
Blackened hardened matter engulfed the nail-sword, extending outward without end, lengthening the weapon until it resembled a massive greatsword.
042 swung with brutal force.
The enemy before him was cleaved apart instantly, blood erupting into the air.
At its core, Metatron's authority was not the creation of Divine Armor itself, but the generation of armor-like hardened matter across the body—matter capable of spreading beyond the flesh and extending into whatever it touched.
A calm breath escaped beneath the faceplate, drifting outward as pale mist.
Unlike ordinary swords, greatswords were colossal, heavy, and difficult to wield. Yet they possessed overwhelming intimidation.
Though against these maddened monsters, intimidation no longer held meaning.
Under such a monstrous weapon, conventional blades were utterly suppressed—sometimes shattered outright.
042 no longer cared for precision. He needed only wider destruction and greater killing efficiency. And amidst chaotic melee, this black greatsword held absolute dominance.
Slowly, he began to rotate the blade.
Like the joke soldiers often made—the sword became a turning windmill, its motion deceptively sluggish.
Yet this was precisely when 042 became most dangerous.
One of the twisted beings lunged toward him. He did not even look at it. Relying solely upon battle instinct, the speed of his swing exploded in an instant.
The slow windmill seemed suddenly seized by a hurricane.
The visible blade transformed into a black afterimage, descending with terrifying speed.
This was originally a defensive stance. A swordsman would slowly rotate the greatsword to intimidate foes, then accelerate instantly to strike, parry, or counterattack.
But 042 required none of those things.
Protected by Divine Armor, defense itself had become unnecessary.
All he needed was offense.
Advance.
Advance without end.
He became a storm born from nightmare itself, the sweeping blade reducing flesh into bloody fragments like the teeth of a merciless grinder.
It was a horrifying spectacle.
He compressed the enemy's space with every swing. Though his body lacked the maddening symbols that inspired terror in onlookers, the savagery of 042 already resembled a demon in human form.
Just like every battle before, the outcome became one-sided from the very beginning.
No matter how horrifying these creatures were, when confronted by demon hunters governed by absolute reason, even terror itself lost its meaning.
As the greatsword descended again, blood washed across the carved symbols.
The marks vanished.
And with them, the grotesque horrors revealed their true forms.
Exactly as 042 had suspected—they were the residents of this place.
Or rather, followers of the Final Covenant.
With the symbols erased, the cloak of fear began to crumble as well.
016 darted past 042, twin silver daggers flashing repeatedly through the chaos. Unlike 011 and 042, who pursued only slaughter, she was thinking far beyond the battle itself.
Perhaps it was the influence of Raphael's authority, but she had already begun to glimpse the truth behind Valley Town.
She needed experiments.
Her movements were fluid and precise. Sliding low across the ground before springing upward again, she severed tendons and drove blades into the gaps between joints, stripping her enemies of mobility without killing them.
Like a master physician operating amidst war.
Restraining the enemy while preserving their lives.
These people may once have been devout believers, for not even fear remained within them. Even beneath 042's overwhelming suppression, they continued rushing forward without hesitation.
Then, amidst the clash of steel, a strange power suddenly erupted.
A shrill hum rang through the mind like the buzzing of countless insects.
042's swing slowed for a fraction of a second.
The seamless flow of his swordplay shattered.
And the crowd surged forward like a flood.
Perhaps anticipating the anomaly, 011 had already withdrawn at the critical moment. Yet even he could not suppress the shock brought by that violent stabbing pain.
016, however, was barely affected.
In that brief pulse of agony, she seemed instead to uncover another piece of Valley Town's truth.
A man raised a rusted blade toward her—
But the instant their eyes met, he froze.
"Move aside," she said.
She did not evade.
The blazing fire within her eyes condensed into something tangible, like luminous mirrors reflecting the symbol-covered face before her.
The blade never descended.
The man stood there rigidly, staring blankly at 016.
Within his vision, the already distorted world became even more grotesque. 016's form began to twist, warping into a terror no human mind was meant to endure.
He heard countless whispers.
Thin, overlapping voices echoed endlessly in his ears, as though ancient beings had pressed themselves against him, murmuring secrets mortals were never meant to hear.
Agony exploded through his mind.
Blood poured from his ears and nose. His eyes swelled crimson before bloody tears streamed down his face.
The fanatic fire of death within him was extinguished.
At last, he seemed to realize the madness of everything around him.
After that fleeting daze came fear.
Pure fear.
He released a miserable scream and staggered backward.
But there was no time left for regret.
His consciousness began to collapse. Though his body had suffered no physical wound, his mind had already been torn to pieces within that brief exchange of gazes.
Endless nightmares devoured his will completely.
And then he fell.
Rigid.
Lifeless.
016 stared at the corpse as blood slowly washed away the symbols covering his skin. Little by little, the suffocating sense of wrongness began to fade.
But it was still not enough.
With sharp intuition, she realized that something else was still interfering with her.
Something that had lingered beside her ever since they first entered Valley Town.
It was as though she had suddenly realized something. Her gaze swept across the surroundings, and after a brief moment of distraction, a self-mocking smile rose upon her lips—as if she were laughing at herself for failing to notice something so obvious.
"Let's end this quickly, 042. I know where the problem lies."
016 shouted toward the center of the chaos. Her hand crossbow fired repeatedly, executing the survivors who had been left breathing. To her now, none of that mattered anymore.
Beyond the story itself, the four of them watched the bloody slaughter from afar. Everything was approaching its conclusion.
"She was always the smartest one. Efficient, exceptional. Even though 042 led the squad, she was the true mind behind it."
洛伊德 gazed at the familiar figure beneath the gray mist and spoke with faint nostalgia. He still missed those days. The Gospel Church had been full of idiots, certainly—but at least his companions were not. They enjoyed hunting demons, yes, but they had all been good people. Lovable, even.
"So the great Holmes can acknowledge another person's intelligence after all?" Red Falcon teased.
"Of course. I've never been stingy with praise toward the exceptional… idiots excluded."
Lloyd answered mercilessly.
"Then where exactly is the problem?" Robin asked curiously. Everything about Valley Town fascinated him.
An anomaly beyond anomaly itself. Even the Purification Agency seemed never to have encountered anything like this before.
"It's always been here… influencing us from the very beginning. The moment we entered Valley Town, it had already begun."
Lloyd and the 016 within the story spoke in perfect unison.
Inside and outside the tale, different eyes stared upon them.
Slowly, 016 raised her hand, as though she wished to touch the gray fog itself. It blanketed the valley heavily, impossible to disperse, omnipresent.
"It's the mist. The mist is the true source of the influence."
016 voiced her conclusion.
If there truly was something constantly affecting them, then only this strange gray fog could explain it.
"But I never sensed anything abnormal," 011 said.
"Exactly. That's what makes it terrifying… we were all misled by our own common sense," 016 replied. "Remember the example I always used to tell you, 042?"
042 severed the last survivor and stood amidst the corpses, yet he did not answer her. He remained silent.
"042?"
011 called out cautiously, though his hand unconsciously tightened around the nail sword.
Then Shang Dafeng foresaw it.
042's body swayed violently, as though enduring some unbearable torment. The stench of blood churned through the air, seeping into the mist itself, amplifying the eerie force surrounding them.
016 made her judgment instantly. Rather than retreat, she moved toward him. Before 042 could react further, she grabbed his helmet fiercely.
"Look at me."
She shouted—and then her voice softened into calm gentleness. The grotesque world around them suddenly became peaceful, as though they had fallen into a cradle. 042 stared into those blazing white eyes, and the tension gripping his mind slowly began to dissolve, like sinking into warm seawater.
Authority — Raphael.
The power to weave false and dreamlike worlds. Yet once one became lost within them, illusion itself would become reality.
Under 016's gaze, the agitation consuming 042 gradually quieted.
"That's why I keep saying you'd make an excellent doctor… though probably only a psychiatrist."
042 finally emerged from the tranquil illusion. Within such an oppressively suffocating environment, the hallucinations created by 016 were remarkably effective at soothing the mind.
Still, he remained wary.
He knew exactly how terrifying this Authority could become at its peak. Within fractured illusions, those who lost themselves would eventually lose their identity altogether—perhaps even have false memories implanted into their minds, descending into endless madness.
"I think so too. Against lunatics like these, this power doesn't really accomplish much."
After all, how much crazier could someone already insane truly become?
016 supported 042. The exhaustion following battle, coupled with the oppressive weight of the mist, had briefly shaken his consciousness. A demon hunter's will would not collapse so easily, but everything ahead remained unknown. 016 needed to ensure the squad did not fall apart.
"What exactly is going on with this mist?" 011 asked from beside them. Even he had begun doubting everything.
Among the piles of corpses, pale crimson vapor drifted from the blood, merging silently with the fog.
"I don't know yet. But I'm certain the problem lies within the mist. It's the only thing constantly affecting all of us. After all… everyone has to breathe."
016 walked toward one of the corpses. Rather than avoiding it, she stared directly at the face covered in symbols.
To confront the unknown with absolute rationality. To resist the influence of mystery itself. To dissect and explain it through cold logic.
"We were misled. As demon hunters, we blamed everything on demons… but never considered the existence of powers unrelated to them."
016 crouched down and wiped a trace of blood onto her fingertip.
Seeing this, 042 immediately warned her, "What are you doing? That could be poisonous."
016 appeared unconcerned.
"Our secret blood is already the deadliest poison imaginable. Besides, I need to prove my hypothesis."
She licked the blood from her finger.
At once, a surge of chaotic hatred flooded her senses—far more intense, far clearer than before.
As a master of illusion, 016 instantly understood the nature of this strange sensation. At last, she also realized why the demon hunters had failed to identify the truth from the beginning.
"Sometimes our strength becomes a disadvantage."
She stared toward the gray fog.
"There are hallucinogenic components in this blood… now everything makes sense."
"Hallucinogenic?" 011 finally grasped the core of the issue. Once the unknown became known, the terrifying complexity of it all suddenly appeared almost simple.
"That's right. Hallucinogens. Massive quantities inhaled over long periods, accumulating within the bloodstream… The mist itself has been affecting us all this time. A hallucinogenic fog."
016 lifted her eyes toward the hazy mist surrounding them.
At once, both 011 and 042 became vigilant.
So this was the true source of everything before them—the fog that devoured all things.
"Yes. These people… everyone in Valley Town has been living within an environment saturated with hallucinogens. Honestly, it would be stranger if they hadn't gone mad. That's also why we sensed something wrong. We've been affected as well."
"But we never experienced intense hallucinations," 011 said.
"What do you think a demon hunter's body is?" 016 answered bluntly. "Our powerful constitutions dulled the effects. The diluted hallucinogens within the mist couldn't immediately create full hallucinations in us, but they could still subtly shake our minds. Like those symbols."
Her gaze settled upon the terrifying marks.
"The symbols merely guide fear. The slight hallucinations weakened our mental defenses, and everything within Valley Town slowly directed rational minds toward fearful destruction."
They looked around at the gray, oppressive world surrounding them.
Everything felt unbearably strange.
"We need to find the source," 016 declared, finally locking onto a goal.
"What source?" Perhaps the influence upon him had grown heavier; 042 struggled to follow her reasoning.
"There has to be something causing the spread of these hallucinogenic substances, doesn't there? And if it isn't a demon, then the Doomsday Society must be behind it."
016 continued coldly.
"They artificially created a massive illusion. Yes… beneath the influence of hallucinogens, both heaven and hell become frighteningly easy to reach. With only the slightest symbolic guidance, reason itself can be driven into madness. They must be doing something—something capable of producing this sea of dense fog."
The trembling mist that blanketed all of Valley Town.
A gray veil from which there was no escape.