The Holy Hall Knights were screaming, crying, continuously praying, pleading for mercy to a God as vague as a mist. Under the cruelty of blood and fire, their unprecedented piety seemed to almost sacrifice their entire being to God, yet such devotion brought nothing in return. The Demons were still advancing, and the defenses organized by mortals were terribly fragile against sharp fangs and claws.
Medici Square had turned into a slaughterhouse of flesh and blood, bodies falling in shattered, unrecognizable forms. Blood flowed through the brick seams, seeping into the earth below.
The blazing firelight shone on the central statue of Lorenzo de' Medici, with light and blood distorting the sculpture's features, as if an evil spirit had possessed it. At this moment, the statue came alive, savoring their death and pain.
