"And on Earth, flowers will take form, and magnificent, immortal things will follow."
Warren's chanting hadn't finished, his poem hadn't yet taken effect, when Gore, using its two thick, powerful arms, crawled across the ground, dragging its house-like, bloated body closer.
The things on its back, like twisted ropes or scaly elephant trunks, suddenly lashed out, striking Warren like whips.
He cried out in alarm, his chanting interrupted. The young Poet, abandoning his song, rolled on the ground, dodging the attack once, twice. But he was sent flying by the third 'whip.' Fortunately, he raised his arm in time to block and protect himself.
Otherwise, if his head had been hit, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
Having landed a blow, Gore was about to pursue and kill, when suddenly its eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand catties, and liquid flowed from the corners of its mouth, as if it were about to fall asleep.
Behind it, Lewis, with his eyes closed, pressed a hand to his brow, and rings of invisible ripples spread out, flowing over Gore like water.
The Light in Gore's eyes rapidly dimmed, and the muscles in its goat-like face slowly relaxed. It had entered the land of dreams.
The Profiler on the other side quickly scrambled to his feet, knowing that the Captain had forcibly pulled Gore into a dream. Seizing the opportunity, he immediately drew his revolver and emptied its Demon Hunter bullets into Gore's head.
No matter what kind of monster, the head is always an important and fatal part.
Based on this judgment, Warren targeted the opponent's head.
Bullets burrowed into Gore's head one after another, but its skull seemed exceptionally hard; the bullets couldn't fully embed themselves, and the silver bullet tips could be seen on the surface of that goat-like face.
After taking a volley of bullets, Gore suddenly 'woke' up. The tentacles on its back thrashed wildly in all directions, as if entering the dream and being shot had triggered a stress response.
Warren dared not stay put. He clutched his head and moved nimbly, using the statues in Memorial Square for cover to avoid the monster's attacks.
Lewis appeared much more composed. He walked towards the monster, neither fast nor slow. Gore's tentacles always just missed him.
At this moment, the Inspector was favored by the God of Luck.
"You—"
"A serene bride, keeping her virginity;"
"A maiden adopted by silence and long time."
"Historian of the mountains, you tell so beautifully;"
"A story like a flower, surpassing our poems."
As Lewis chanted, a tranquil atmosphere seemed to fill the air. Although this didn't cause Gore to fall asleep, its movements noticeably slowed, allowing Lewis to easily jump onto its body.
Then, with agile movements, he quickly climbed onto Gore's back. Even in such a battle, the Inspector, whose hair remained neatly in place, moved closer to the monster's head.
Gore seemed to sense something and swung violently, nearly throwing Lewis off. But he drew a dagger, plunged it into the monster's body, and luckily secured himself there.
Then, using the inertia of the swing, he launched himself out, tumbling in mid-air, and as he passed Gore's head.
Lewis naturally extended his arm, pressing the muzzle of his revolver against the center of that goat-like face's brow.
He fired continuously!
Bang, bang, bang—
Three muffled gunshots echoed in the square. Gore let out a shriek, covering its head with both hands, twisting madly. It crashed uncontrollably into the statues, its back tentacles thrashing wildly around. In this process, it gradually lost its strength and finally collapsed into the central fountain.
The massive body crushed the fountain, and the pool water flowed out from the fragments of the pool and under Gore's body, filling every crack between the paving stones.
Warren's mouth hung open as he asked in disbelief, "Captain, is it… over?"
Lewis put away his revolver, nodding calmly, "I discovered its weakness in the dream. Only the center of its brow on its head is relatively fragile; we can use that to destroy its brain."
"Awesome, Captain!" Warren exclaimed joyfully, "The Lucky Coin is really useful. Without it, we probably wouldn't have been so smooth."
Lewis opened his pocket and glanced at the coin inside. Its patterns had disappeared: "The stored luck should be used up. Next, I need to go into isolation. You guys will have to deal with this thing's corpse."
"Wah—"
The Inspector's words had barely finished when a baby's cry suddenly came from behind!
In the quiet square, from within the fallen monster's corpse, a baby's cry! There was nothing more terrifying than that.
Hearing the sound, the smile vanished from Warren's face. Lewis also turned back very quickly, retrieved his revolver, and reloaded the cylinder.
At this point, the crying stopped, but both saw that Gore's corpse's belly was bulging abnormally. Suddenly, with a ripping sound, a section of a blade with a blazing yellow light tore through the belly, pulling downwards, and a large amount of blood and unknown liquid gushed out.
Then, from that belly, a baby crawled out—a baby nearly a meter tall. It didn't yet know how to control its body and immediately rolled off the corpse.
Lewis and Warren saw that the baby had dull skin, two small horns on its head, and faint, discontinuous mysterious patterns on its body.
On its back were a pair of small, palm-sized fleshy wings, and in its hand, it held a short, yellow-glowing blade resembling a dagger.
Warren felt his mouth unable to close, and he said in a near-whimper, "Captain, what is this?"
Lewis's mind flashed with the information revealed by the madman.
'Gore ate its brother.'
He suddenly had a conjecture, but now was not the time to ponder these things. He focused his attention on this 'baby' and said in a low tone, "From its appearance, it seems to be a natural-born demon."
"Judging by its state, it has just been born. It should possess some demonic abilities, but it's not yet skilled or powerful."
Warren swallowed, "So, you mean we still have a chance to kill it?"
As if sensing Warren's thoughts, the baby raised its head. Its wrinkled face, its eyes glowing with ferocity, opened its mouth.
From the baby's mouth came a language not belonging to humans. The tone, full of defilement, made everyone who heard it shiver with cold.
Lewis and Warren were about to raise their guns to attack, but they found that their movements had noticeably slowed, becoming less fluid.
At this moment, the baby raised its left hand, and a pale blue flame rose between its chubby palms, accompanied by the baby making a throwing motion.
The ball of flame condensed into a sphere and was hurled towards Lewis and Warren.
"Get out of the way!"
Lewis and Warren dove in opposite directions, but their movements were too slow. The fireball struck at their feet before they could complete their rolls.
Then the fireball expanded and exploded, and pale blue flames instantly bloomed across the square.