Time quietly slipped by again, five days having passed.
North of Long Island Port, stands Albany City, in the middle reaches of the Hartson River. It's also the capital of all Buffalo and the ghoul stronghold.
In a corner of streets scarred by smoke and flames.
"Open fire!"
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!...
With the sound of lead bullets ripping through flesh and the mournful howls of beasts, over a dozen ghouls driven into a dead-end alley turned red-eyed and charged at the firearms array, poised for a desperate breakthrough.
"Out of the way!"
The three orderly rows of firearmsmen split to the sides at the command.
A black-robed wizard, whose spine and limbs had been transformed into mechanical constructs, stepped forward—none other than Samuel, the evil alchemist who had first pledged allegiance to Aiven.
The mechanical right arm, after several upgrades, swiftly unfolded into a cold, gleaming alchemy fire cannon.
A gruesome grin that betrayed its nature appeared.
Boom!
