In a desolate field in the suburbs, the old butler, Finkel, was running for his life.
He had lost his hat, and his meticulously combed white hair hung down in disarray. The surface of his clothes was covered in mud.
Phew, phew … He paused for a moment, panting as he looked behind him. When he realized that there was no one there, he felt a little relieved.
But when he turned his head and was about to change directions, he realized that a figure had appeared in front of him at some point in time.
The figure was wearing a hooded classical robe. His black eyes were hidden in the shadows, and his face was lifeless and expressionless.
Finkel's pupils constricted as he immediately opened his mouth and tried to say a word in ancient Hermes, but he was shocked to realize that his nose was disappearing and his voice was gone.
A look of despair appeared on his face. Then, like a stain in the void, he was wiped clean with a rag, leaving nothing behind.
...
Achoo! Achoo! Cough! Cough!
Faced with Mr. A's impending fatal attack, Klein was afflicted with a headache and fever. He found it difficult to control flames and jump.
At this moment, he couldn't even create an Air Bullet.
The fear of the unknown occupied his mind, and the premonition of danger from the Clown made him "see" himself suddenly disintegrating into the tiniest particles of light. Perhaps he wouldn't even have a chance of resurrection.
In an instant, Klein reached into his pocket and grabbed an item.
This was the plan he had considered in advance for the most dangerous situation!
No matter how rushed it was, Magicians were prepared to a certain extent. They wouldn't panic in battle.
Klein took out the Aztec copper whistle, brought it to his mouth, and blew at it with great difficulty amidst the sneezing and coughing!
Without any prior commotion, he saw bones gushing out like a fountain through his Spirit Vision, quickly forming a gigantic messenger with pitch-black flames burning in its eye sockets.
And at this moment, the book in front of Mr. A stopped flipping, and the distant voice came to an abrupt halt.
A blurry green light surged out, and the nearly four-meter-tall skeleton messenger cracked apart into countless pure points of light.
Behind it, the power that kept Klein spinning on the spot was the first to collapse. The figure in the black double-breasted suit was immediately enveloped, turning into a statue made of yellow sand that was blown away by the wind.
But what scattered were white spots, like the shreds of paper that had been torn to the limit.
Klein's figure appeared on the other side, half-kneeling on the ground and coughing uncontrollably.
If not for the skeleton messenger blocking it, he wouldn't have been able to suppress the disease in time and use Paper Figurine Substitutes!
After such a torment, his illness became even more serious, and he almost lost the ability to resist.
At that moment, Mr. A, who had failed to land a fatal blow, suddenly started coughing, more violently than Klein.
He crawled on the ground in pain, blood frothing at the corner of his mouth.
Cough cough cough!
He coughed out a pile of broken internal organs and wriggling flesh. Then, he opened his mouth with great difficulty, trying to lick them into his mouth and forcefully eat them back.
What was going on? Klein was stunned for a moment.
But this didn't stop him from holding back his coughing, raising his right hand and aiming his revolver at Mr. A's head.
At that moment, he vaguely understood that Mr. A's physical injuries could be maintained by using flesh and blood magic, but the impact and backlash to his mind and spirituality couldn't be made up for in such a way.
Mr. A should've switched to another Beyonder power to slowly heal the injuries to his Spirit Body, but he was driven by hatred. He forcefully suppressed it and chased after Klein. Thus, after continuously expending and using Beyonder powers that exceeded his limits, the situation worsened and erupted.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Klein fired all the bullets in his revolver. Brass, pale gold, silver, and other streams of light quickly crossed the short distance between the two of them.
To his regret, he was unable to hold back his sneezing and coughing during the process. Only two of the bullets hit Mr. A, one drilling into his forehead and the other into his torso.
Sizzle!
The sound of burning could be heard, but Mr. A's head didn't seem to have any bones. It was just a combination of a pile of rotten flesh, causing the pale gold bullet to sink deep into it. It quickly came to a stop and failed to cause any fatal damage. All it could do was emit a golden glow that resembled sunlight.
Mr. A raised his neck, and the flesh and blood in the hole in his head squirmed crazily.
He wasn't dead, and he wasn't even seriously injured.
He was once a Rose Bishop with tenacious vitality!
Upon seeing this scene, Klein made a prompt decision. He turned around and ran, no longer attempting to attack. Mr. A panted, lowered his head again, and licked the minced meat and organs he had coughed out.
Sneezing and coughing intertwined as Klein ran, stumbling and rolling from time to time.
Finally, he reached the edge of the cliff, which was more than fifty meters high.
Below the cliff, the slightly turbid Tussock River surged endlessly, wide but calm.
Without hesitation, Klein exerted strength with his feet and jumped out.
He fell rapidly, feeling the intense weightlessness brought about by free fall.
His body tore through the air as he attempted to adjust his posture in midair, turning it into a standard dive.
Cough! Achoo!
The illness stopped his three-and-a-half tumbling midway, and he failed to open his body and adjust his palms properly.
With a splat, he fell into the water and turned into a thin piece of white paper.
The paper figurine quickly became wet, half-submerged and half-floating.
At the bottom of the water not far away, Klein's figure was outlined, trembling.
His clothes were already soaked, and so were the remaining paper inside and the notes in his wallet.
After distancing myself from Mr. A, the illness has been alleviated … Klein thought with lingering fear.
If it wasn't for the fact that his coughing and sneezing had subsided at the last moment, he wouldn't even have had the time to use the Paper Figurine Substitution Technique. He would've died from internal bleeding from the fall. Of course, if that was the cause of death, he felt that he could be resurrected.
As he kicked the water, Klein created an invisible, hollow tube in his mouth and let it protrude out of the water to bring him fresh air.
This was the "underwater breathing" performance of a Magician!
Klein inhaled through his mouth and exhaled through his nose, not letting the turbid gas pollute the pipe and enter the water directly.
At the same time, he quietly swam towards the shore, hoping to avoid Mr. A's subsequent pursuit.
Unfortunately, this isn't a city, so the powers of a Faceless can't be used effectively. Otherwise, once I escape, Mr. A definitely won't be able to find me … As he swam, Klein instinctively had such a thought.
This thought made him think of a problem. It was the Beyonder power that Mr. A had previously used to control the wind.
Generally speaking, this belongs to the Lord of Storms pathway … Apart from wind, this pathway's characteristics also include water, and it's especially good at underwater activities … Underwater activities … A Shepherd is too all-rounded and terrifying! As these thoughts flashed through his mind, Klein's heart nearly stopped beating.
He swam up abruptly, no longer concealing himself!
Just as he surfaced and approached the shore, he saw Mr. A's beautiful and bewitching face. He saw that it was covered in fish scales and had gill openings.
The corners of Mr. A's mouth curled up as his bright red robe floated on the water surface. His eyes were filled with tangible hatred.
Fight! I can only fight! I have to fight until the Church's reinforcements arrive, or until Mr. Aztec escapes! Klein, whose illness had subsided, didn't hesitate to raise his right hand, ready to snap his fingers.
At this moment, the two of them looked up into the air at the same time, almost instinctively.
A silhouette of a woman's gentle beauty was quickly outlined there.
The figure was wearing a hood and a dark robe, staring blankly at Mr. A.
Then, Klein saw that Mr. A seemed to have turned into a pencil drawing, quickly erased by an eraser without any ability to resist. All that was left was a look of confusion and indignation, a look of despair hidden in madness, engraved in the mind of the only spectator present.
This … What kind of level is this! What kind of strength! Just as Klein had this thought, he noticed that the figure had turned her head and was looking at him.
It was a beautiful face, but it was expressionless. Her black eyes were dark and deep, but they lacked spirituality.
Just as Klein's heart was beating wildly, thinking that he would disappear silently, unsure if there was a chance for him to be resurrected, the corners of the woman's mouth slowly curled up, revealing a smile.
A smile? Klein was stunned, wondering if he was dreaming.
Before he could come to his senses, the figure instantly faded and disappeared. The sound of the water flowing around him echoed silently.
Swimming to the shore in confusion, Klein climbed up and looked around. He discovered that this place was abnormally remote. There were no roads, nor were there any living people. There was only the slightly turbid river that flowed without any change.
It ended just like that? Mr. A died just like that? Who was that lady just now? She was so strong that Mr. A didn't even have the time to scream … She even smiled at me … Smiled … Perhaps?? But other than figures at the level of the Pope in the three Churches, how could there be angels walking on the ground? And figures at the level of the Pope clearly wouldn't be in Baekeland … Klein couldn't believe that he had escaped danger just like that.
After calming his mind, he finally found some sense of reality.
It should be a powerhouse sent by the Church. She arrived in time and successfully rescued me.
If I hadn't informed Miss Justice in advance, they might not have been able to take action in time. Then, there's a high chance that I would've died at Mr. A's hands today. I don't even know if I can be resurrected …
Yes, it's also because I've persisted and delayed the battle until now.
It's not bad …
Klein heaved a sigh of relief, coughed twice, and began to search for a way out.
...
"Exile!"
The man in the golden mask pointed at Aztec Eggers and threw his figure into the void, to an unknown location.
Then, he turned to face Ince Zangwill, who was frowning at him.
"There's no time. We can't finish him off that quickly! We have to hide here as soon as possible. We can only exile him! Do you want the Church to discover our secret? "the man in the golden mask said angrily in a deep voice.
Ince Zangwill put away his puzzlement and nodded. He turned to the 0-08 that had stopped writing and grabbed it.
His figure was a little hobbled, and his pants, which had been torn during the battle, were piled at his feet.
...
In Red Rose Manor, Prince Edessak sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, his eyes abnormally empty.
"Your Highness, please be quick." A voice sounded beside him.
Edessak's eyes came alive. He took a deep breath, picked up the revolver on the table, and pressed it against his Sun acupoint. There was a bullet inside that could annihilate Spirit Bodies.
He turned his head and looked fondly at the golf course and the strolling horses outside.
Bang!
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