Colonial Suit

Robbie's right hand shot out from under his left ribs, blasting a Judge out of the sky with a single shot.

At this moment, he was still moving backward, unable to see the battlefield behind him, yet he seemed to know exactly where the enemies were. Simultaneously, he spun his body, narrowly dodging a streak of light. At the same time, he raised both hands, holding his guns level, and fired two more shots.

Bang, bang… With each gunshot, another Judge fell from the sky. No matter how fast they were, no matter what form they took, Robbie's bullets always accurately struck their energy cores. Thus, they could only vanish, transforming from glorious Bokas into puffs of smoke scattered by the wind.

Robbie's speed wasn't fast; in fact, his movements at this moment resembled a dance. He wandered through the endless streams of light and spatial distortions. Describing it as 'flowing like clouds and water' was insufficient; he gave the impression of enjoying himself, dancing with the light, merging with it, savoring it. This developed to the point where it created the illusion that the light was surrounding him, obeying him. The entire battlefield had become his stage.

"Light is redemption…"

Robbie's voice echoed across the field, soft and gentle, yet clear. Even the roars of countless Judges couldn't suppress it in the slightest.

Simultaneously, two gunshots rang out, instantly killing two Judges.

"Not acquisition."

Robbie tilted his head back, just enough to let a streak of light aimed at his head pass by. His eyes were slightly closed, his golden hair fluttering, while his right hand simultaneously shot down the Judge who attacked him, as if by a miracle.

In the eyes of the Judges, Robbie was like a humanoid weapon. Although he only had two hands, his guns always appeared in the most suitable place, at the most suitable time. No one could evade his shots; it was as if they had charged for so long just to be delivered to the muzzle of his gun.

This was a gunfighter's intuition, the embodiment of an ultimate understanding of marksmanship. For such powerful individuals, their shooting no longer required aiming or utilizing the environment. Because gunmanship had been integrated into their blood, their souls. Guns were born for them, fought for them. As long as they pulled the trigger, even situations where a hit seemed impossible would result in a perfect shot. This was called absolute accuracy, the highest manifestation of mental unity.

No one could dodge their bullets, just as no one could escape fate.

But what shocked people most about Robbie wasn't his marksmanship, nor his miraculous dance steps, but his expression.

He relished battle, relished death.

Even in such intense combat, no tension could be seen on his face. Instead, he was so peaceful, his smile like sunlight, dispelling the gloom in everyone's heart. And his voice echoed across the battlefield, penetrating directly into people's hearts.

"The Lord bestows light upon all beings, not for glory, but for redemption. For the world is always fair; where there is light, there must be darkness. If everyone craves light, how can darkness flourish?"

Robbie spun around, passing a Judge, and casually shot him in the back of the head.

"Darkness exists in the world; it is natural, it is principle. It should not be hated for its coldness, nor avoided for its fear."

As he said this, a trace of sadness flashed in Robbie's eyes, along with a hint of fanaticism. His speed also increased, suddenly passing through a group of Judges, firing bullets from under his ribs, from behind his back, from above his head, from his side.

A moment later, the Judges froze simultaneously, then disintegrated and collapsed in the light.

Only then did Robbie stop, his head lowered. He looked at the Glimmering Guns in his hands, ignoring the enemies filling the sky behind him.

"The Lord's mercy is to allow darkness to have warmth, to allow coldness to have redemption. Not to reject because of evil, not to despise because of ugliness."

"Light is bestowed for life, darkness belongs to our Lord."

"This is the Lord's way."

With a sigh, Robbie finally turned around, slowly raising his hands level, crossing them, the 'el' flashing with dazzling holy light.

There were still many enemies in front of him, but in his eyes, they posed no threat.

Just as he said, the Judges and he believed in the same light. Only their faiths were different. The Judges pursued pure glory, while he pursued the meaning of light.

No light can be obtained out of thin air; the brighter the place, the darker its shadow. Thinking about it, behind the glory of the Bokas, how much pain, how much sin was there? If the Bokas were unwilling to bear it, then on whom would this darkness and pain be transferred?

"With great power comes great responsibility."

"Light that only knows how to take… is not qualified…" Robbie suddenly raised his head, his eyes shooting out an icy light.

"To be called glory."

Bang, bang, bang, bang…

The 'el' suddenly spewed out a storm of gunfire. For a moment, no one knew how many shots Robbie fired, how many enemies he hit. His speed was so fast that it even exceeded the limits of the guns. Patches of bullet rain instantly covered the sky like stars, like a net of light, enveloping all the enemies rushing towards him.

In the rain of bullets, Judges were torn apart one by one, energy cores were shattered one by one. The once pure Light Origin Power was driven away by another, more sacred power, just like the filth and darkness they had driven away.

There were no screams, no wails.

All the Judges seemed to be receiving a baptism in this rain of holy light, cleansing their souls, their thoughts, and also cleansing their sins, their ugliness. No one knew what they were thinking before their deaths, but something could be gleaned from their peaceful expressions.

Perhaps… they were repenting…

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The sky returned to clarity, and flakes of white light slowly fell, then merged into the earth. Robbie looked up, feeling the holiness in these specks of light, his heart filled with peace.

"Even in the realm of pure spirit, there is a paradise."

"Baptism of Light."

"Given to all, lost lambs."

The 'el' disintegrated into light particles in his hand. He turned around, facing Trius on the throne, placed his right hand on his chest, and saluted. "I apologize for the spectacle, Your Highness Trius."

"Fallen Angel, Saint?"

The previous calmness was gone from Trius's face. He had seen everything that had just happened. Although the Twin siblings and Robbie's strength weren't much to him, the other party's identities surprised him.

Leaving aside the Twin siblings' Fallen Angel bloodline, the holy light that Robbie showed him at the end was what he cared about most.

Saint.

This was a title that both Robbie's Church of Divine Retribution and the Boka race had. But the meanings they represented were completely different. In the church, a saint referred to a devout believer with a noble character, pure faith, and closest to God. But in the Boka race, it meant a distant legacy.

That religion created in the Great Chaos Era to collect more Light Origin Power.

In this religion, there was a god called God.

There was a martyr, called a saint.

One who throws himself into darkness for the sake of light. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to vote for recommendations and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation..)

ps: Well, Xiao Dao apologizes first, this is just a novel... it's not smearing the church, so religious brothers and sisters don't be angry... the theme, just the theme.