"Once again, rebirth!"
Indeed, Lorenzo has died more than once and come back to life more than once, like a ghost hovering between life and death, clinging to everything he has.
With a roar, the Holy Silver Bullet seemed like a swiftly rushing silver lance, effortlessly piercing through all the obstacles ahead. The deadly Holy Silver corroded flesh; the wounds couldn't stop festering and decaying, as if burned by intense flames, turning the shattered flesh into ashes that scattered.
The power furnace roared in operation, and the Demon Hunter Yanar sat beneath it, his body completely fused with the twisted thorns, his head drooping, yet the embers in his eyes burning ever brighter.
A pitch-black shadow passed over Lorenzo's head, the Black Angel forcefully swung its wings, countless iron feathers pinned to the ground like spears, piercing through the serpentine thorns and the corpses rising once again.
