Thick clouds blotted out the moon, rendering Old Dunling unusually dark tonight. Tall buildings rose in clusters, their silhouettes twisted and grim like a vast, menacing forest under the faint light.

  Zeppelins continued to cruise the night sky, their bright lights spilling down but refusing to touch the Lower District. Here, it was so dark and deep that almost nothing could be seen.

  A curfew was in effect tonight, with every intersection leading to the Lower City strictly guarded. But the ones standing guard were not mounted police—they were heavily armed Royal Guards. No one knew when they had arrived; they had simply appeared.

  Iron boots struck the damp ground, icy clangs echoing through the empty deep alleys. The soldiers wore red cloaks and were equipped with new "Dragon's Roar" rifles from the Mechanism Institute—a type of heavy artillery disguised as rifles. Each time it was fired, it would generate a three-foot-long flame at the muzzle, and then a heavy projectile would be ejected at high speed amid a dragon-like roar, capable of piercing through enemies and the deck in front of them. This weapon was initially designed for storming fortifications, and under its volley fire, brick bunkers were fragile and untenable.

  Whistles were stuck in their mouths, and from time to time, crow-like whistle sounds rang out in the night, as if from messengers of death.

  "They won't step into the Lower District, right?" Boro asked, sneezing. It was cold at high altitudes. This was a high platform, disguised as a Steam Tower to the outside world, but in reality, it was Boro's watchtower, where commanders could see everything on the battlefield and issue orders.

  Despite the surging hot steam, Boro still felt cold and tightly wrapped his clothes.

  "They are responsible for blockading it. Under the Dragon's Roar, no one can leave the Lower District before dawn."

  Many things tonight could not be made public, not even by the Royal Guards.

  Galahad looked at the faintly twinkling place in the dark and said lightly, his gaze calm and sober. He had always been like this.

  "What if there are many enemies? Can they hold against the assault of so many demons?" Boro asked with some worry. The Lower District was adjacent to the Outer District; the so-called hell and heaven were closely connected.

  "This is Old Dunling. We cannot let any demon go, not even allow them to leave the underground palace."

  Galahad knew very well what would happen tonight. Not far in front of them was a ruin-like building, but both knew that the feast of bliss was now beneath the surface, where people were indulging in revelry, unaware that death was already at the door.

  "This is the age of steam. The simultaneous firing of guns is enough to destroy any enemy. Remember those winged hussars who still clung to the old days? They galloped across the continent, flexibly changing their armor, able to be either heavy or light cavalry. They inserted wings on their backs and were like angels descending when charging."

  Galahad said disdainfully, turning up his nose at that bygone era.

  "But in the end, all they could do was be buried with the old era. Strong armor was nothing in the face of black powder. The last winged hussars were all killed by artillery fire on their charging route. Only their commander rushed to the high platform, but he was alone, and the battle was already decided."

  "Boro, this is the dawn of a new era. Even the winged hussars wearing heavy armor fell at our hands, not to mention those demons. They are all relics of the old era and should die a proper death."

  Galahad's voice was as calm as ever. The faint light of the night illuminated his mask, and the smell of gunpowder lingered on him.

  "It seems many people will die tonight... I'm a bit curious, why did you choose to attack tonight? Clearly, we haven't figured out the identity of that mysterious duke. This is undoubtedly alerting the enemy."

  Boro overlooked his kingdom. It was a dirty garbage dump, and he was the rat king. He knew exactly how many people would die tonight.

  "There's no time. We found the Plague Doctor's whereabouts. He should be at the Feast of Bliss now. You know very well what he will do, and by then, the situation will be irreversible."

  Boro fell silent. He knew very well who Galahad was referring to as the Plague Doctor, and tonight, Galahad was the commander; he was only responsible for assistance.

  "That great detective should be there too, right?"

  "Yes. Without his intelligence, we wouldn't have guessed that Sabo was helping them."

  Galahad looked at the pocket watch in his hand. The time had not yet come; there was still time.

  "Can you still contact that detective? If so, tell him to leave quickly. Tonight is not something a detective can participate in."

  "Are you going to purify the entire underground palace?"

  Boro's expression turned cold. This would be a massacre.

  "No one knows what the Plague Doctor will leave behind. Arthur's intention is to root out the problem."

  After a long pause, Boro sighed. He couldn't get in touch with Burton. The fastest modern communication was something called radio, but this thing was currently only equipped within the Purification Bureau, and even the outside world didn't know of this technology's existence.

  Burton couldn't hear Boro's call; he was now fighting alone.

  "It seems your great detective is going to die there," Galahad said coldly.

  "No, that's a scourge. The Easterners often say that scourges live for a thousand years." Boro said with a grin. He was confident in this great detective.

  "Scourges live for a thousand years?"

  Galahad raised an eyebrow. He couldn't quite understand this Eastern saying. Even though the world had become extremely small under the Midgard Serpent, that distant East was still a vague term to everyone.

  Steam technology had sparked a revolution, and the dragon entrenched in the East had also been awakened. After Inverweig ended the Glorious War, the power of steam technology reached its peak, with new steamships, war zeppelins, and various powerful new artillery pieces debuting. When everyone thought no one could challenge Inverweig's position among the nations, the Eastern dragon came.

  It was a foggy morning. The crew members were still inspecting the ship as usual, preparing to set sail, when endless waves suddenly surged, hitting the fishing boats one after another as if a storm was approaching.

  Looking up, everyone saw a huge monster sailing out of the thick fog. It was so enormous that it seemed like a creature from ancient mythology.

  This was a direct collision between two cultures. Many crew members were so scared that they froze on the spot. They had never seen such a large ship; even Inverweig's royal flagship was like a child in front of it. What was more astonishing was its structure. Steamships had been around for nearly a hundred years, but that large ship was like something out of history. It didn't use any steel; it was constructed solely from strong wood, integrated as if carved from a giant tree that supported the world.

  That was a giant ship named Kuilong.

  The upright sails blotted out the sky and sun, with coiled Eastern dragons sewn on them. Hundreds of cannons protruded from both sides of the ship, and the bow was a ferocious dragon head. No one had ever seen such a creature, and they thought it was the coming of the apocalypse.

  To their despair, when the sun rose and the damp fog dissipated with the sunlight, the sea became clear, and only then did people see the ocean behind the giant ship—it was hundreds of large ships just like it, with hundreds of flags fluttering, like red cardinals migrating, a rain of fire burning the sky.

  This was a fleet that spanned the world.

  Panic and despair instantly swept through the port of Reondona and spread all the way to the Platinum Palace in Old Dunling. Although this fleet from the East was decades behind in weapons, no one thought they could win this war.

  This was the first time the Inverweig people had seen someone from the East. They thought they would be as terrifying as in legends, but that general named Zuo Zhen did not bring war. He walked into the Platinum Palace wearing armor and said he had come with the emperor's decree. He left gifts from the East, and then the queen reciprocated with the knowledge of the Mechanism Institute. Thus, these Easterners left Inverweig with steam technology and had not reappeared on the sea surface even after more than a decade.

  "The full saying is 'the good die young, and scourges live for a thousand years.' It probably means that those bound by their moral principles usually don't live long, while those inferior scoundrels without principles can live until the end."

  Boro said, wrapping his clothes tightly again. No more steam was emitting, and those condensed water droplets were extremely cold.

  "You think he's an inferior scoundrel?" Galahad was surprised, not expecting Boro to judge him this way.

  "Yes. Only those scoundrels need a new life to escape the past, and Burton Holmes is one of them."

  Boro said indifferently.

  "But it's precisely such people who can live until the end. Don't worry about him; feel free to attack. This detective will definitely survive."

  Recalling the first time he saw Burton, Boro could hardly imagine what this wretched man had gone through. Near-rotten wounds, empty eyes... It must have been tremendous darkness, but even so, Burton had not died, let alone tonight's events.

  "Beep—beep—"

  Suddenly, a sound rang out, and a faint light flashed on the communicator on Boro's chest in the dark. This was a new technology from the Mechanism Institute, which they called radio communication. As long as one carried this device, they could receive messages even if they were separated by the entire Old Dunling. It was faster than a telephone and more mobile, something that would change the battlefield, but it was currently only equipped within the Purification Bureau.

  Listening to the message conveyed in the communicator, Boro's expression gradually became serious. Although it was dark, Galahad still felt Boro's change.

  "What's happening?" he asked.

  "Four teams of mounted police tried to enter the Lower District but have been stopped by the Guards."

  Logically, only night patrol mounted police should appear on the streets at this time, but the appearance of four teams of mounted police was too unusual.

  "Has the Suyalan Hall also been corrupted?"

  For the first time, anger appeared in Galahad's tone.

  "No, it's that scumbag."

  Boro was clearly more angry than Galahad, and he cursed.

  "Postpone the attack. There's a key target in the underground palace."

  "What key target?"

  Galahad was the commander tonight, and he didn't understand why Boro had suddenly overstepped his authority.

  "That scumbag Burton. He told me he could handle Sabo alone. I thought he had some new plan. You know, he single-handedly caused the Red River Massacre. He's a detective who peers into everything, and he can also become a perfect criminal."

  "I finally know where this bastard's confidence comes from!"

  Boro explained, angrier than he had ever been. As he spoke, he wanted to take out his revolver, but halfway through, he remembered that the gun was in Burton's hands. Now he already regretted not killing Burton.

  "Half an hour ago, the Suyalan Hall received an anonymous letter with an address and a name."

  Boro took out a silver-white rifle from the dark, with a lengthened barrel and a high-powered lens. The slender gun body had sharp protrusions, and when necessary, it could be used as a strange sword for combat.

  This weapon came from the Mechanism Institute. It was a powerful concept weapon that could not be mass-produced due to cost issues. It rarely appeared on the battlefield, only because its owner was Boro, the underground king. And when the king also drew his blade, it would be a war concerning everything.

  "The address is the underground palace managed by Sabo in the Lower District, which is tonight's battlefield, and the name is Eve Phoenix."

  Upon hearing that name, Galahad was stunned. For the first time, an emotion other than calm appeared on the knight's rigid face. He held his head and took a long time to slowly say:

  "Arthur will kill us all."