The old butler, Funkel, was fleeing across a barren field in the wilderness.
He had lost his hat, his neatly combed gray hair hung in an unkempt manner, and the outer layer of his clothes were muddy.
However, when he turned his head and was about to change direction, he discovered that a figure had appeared in front of him.
The figure wore a hooded, classical robe; its face was dull and expressionless while its black eyes were hidden in the shadows.
Funkel’s pupils constricted. He opened his mouth and tried to say a word in ancient Hermes, but he was surprised to find his nose disappearing and his voice gone.
A look of despair suddenly appeared on his face. Then, like a stain in the void, his entire body was seemingly wiped clean with a cloth, and not a single trace was left behind.
…
In the face of Mr. A’s looming attack that spelled certain death, Klein was infected by an illness. His headache and fever made it difficult to use Flame Controlling or Flaming Jump.
At that moment, he couldn’t even produce Air Bullets.
Fear of the unknown took over his mind. The Clown’s intuition for danger “saw” himself split into the smallest particles of light, perhaps taking away any chance of him reviving.
In an instant, Klein reached into his pocket and took hold of an object.
This was his answer to the most dangerous situation he could think of ahead of time!
No matter what kind of situation he was suddenly placed in, a Magician had to be prepared to a certain extent, so that he wouldn’t panic in the middle of a battle.
Klein took out Azik’s copper whistle, brought it to his mouth, and blew hard over the sneezing and coughing!
Without any stirring motions, he saw, through his Spirit Vision, a geyser of white bones spewing out as they rapidly sketched out the appearance of a huge messenger with black flames burning in its eye sockets.
And at that moment, the pages in the book in front of Mr. A stopped flipping, and the distant voice suddenly came to a halt.
A misty green brilliance surged out, and the bone messenger, that was almost four meters tall, cracked and crumbled into countless specks of pure light.
Behind it, the force that had caused Klein to go in circles was the first to crumble. The figure in the black double-breasted frock coat was then enveloped, turning into a statue made of yellow sand which was blown away by the wind.
However, the scattered sand were white spots, as if they were shreds of paper that had been torn to the limit.
Klein’s figure appeared on the other end, genuflecting and coughing uncontrollably.
If it wasn’t for the skeleton messenger blocking the blow for him, then he wouldn’t have been able to suppress his ailments and use Paper Figurine Substitute!
And after that ordeal, his illness worsened to the point of him losing almost all forms of resistance.
At that moment, Mr. A, who had failed in his fatal blow, suddenly coughed in a way more violent manner than Klein.
He fell to the ground in pain, blood frothing at the corners of his mouth.
He coughed out a pile of fragmented organs and squirming flesh. Then, with great difficulty, he opened his mouth and attempted to lick them back into his mouth to forcefully consume them.
But that didn’t stop him from resisting a cough, raising his right hand, and aiming the revolver at Mr. A’s head.
At this moment, he vaguely understood something—while Mr. A’s injuries could be treated with his flesh and blood magic, the impact and backlash on his mind and spirituality couldn’t be nullified through this method.
Mr. A should’ve switched to another Beyonder power to slowly heal the damage to his Spirit Body, but he was driven by hatred. He forcefully suppressed his injuries and chased after Klein; thus, after continuously using the Beyonder powers that exceeded what his body could bear, his situation worsened and the latent problems flared up.
Klein fired all the bullets in the revolver. Bronze, pale gold, and silver beams of light quickly crossed the short distance between the two of them.
Unfortunately, he was unable to control his sneezing and coughing during the process. The bullets didn’t all hit Mr. A, with only two of them hitting Mr. A, and one of them drilling through his forehead and the other into his torso.
A sizzling sound rang out, but Mr. A’s head seemed to be boneless—it was just a combination of a pile of rotten flesh. This caused the pale golden-colored bullet to sink deep into his body. It quickly came to a stop and failed to deal lethal damage. All it did was emit a golden radiance of sunshine.
Mr. A lifted his neck, and the flesh around the hole in his head writhed wildly.
He wasn’t dead, not even seriously injured.
He was once the tenacious Rose Bishop!
Seeing this, Klein made up his mind. He turned around and ran, no longer making any attempts to attack. As for Mr. A, he was panting, and when he lowered his head again, he licked the bits of fragmented flesh and organs he had coughed up.
Amidst the wheezing and coughing, Klein ran in random directions, occasionally rolling.
Finally, he fled to the edge of a cliff which was over fifty meters away.
Beneath the cliff, the slightly turbid Tussock River surged incessantly. It was wide but calm.
Klein didn’t hesitate and put strength into his legs and jumped.
He plummeted, feeling the weightlessness of a free fall.
His body tore through the air as he attempted to adjust his posture in midair, transforming into a standard diving motion.
His ailment stopped his three and a half flips midway, and the positioning of his body and palms failed to be in the correct stance.
With a splashing sound, he struck the water surface, reducing into a thin piece of white paper.
The paper figurine quickly became moist, half sinking and half floating.
At the bottom of the river not far away, Klein’s figure formed as it shivered a little.
His clothes were already soaked, as were the remaining paper and bills in his wallet.
If his coughing and sneezing hadn’t subsided at the last minute, he wouldn’t have even had the time to use Paper Figurine Substitutes, and he would’ve suffered internal bleeding and instantly died. Of course, if he died in such a manner, he felt that he had a chance of being resurrected.
While kicking his legs to keep himself afloat, Klein created an invisible, hollow tube in his mouth, allowing it to rise out of the water and bring him fresh air.
This was the Underwater Breathing performance of a Magician!
Klein sucked in with his mouth and blew out through his nose, not letting the turbid gas he breathed out pollute the pipe by directly entering the water.
At the same time, he stealthily made his way to the shore, hoping to avoid Mr. A’s subsequent pursuit.
This resulted in him thinking of a problem, and that was the wind-controlling Beyonder power Mr. A previously had.
He suddenly swam upstream, no longer concealing himself!
As soon as he emerged from the water and approached the shore, he saw Mr. A’s devilishly beautiful face, covered with fish scales and gaping gills.
Mr. A, who was floating on the water surface in his bright red robe, had the corners of his mouth curled up. His eyes were filled with true hatred.
At this moment, the two of them simultaneously looked at the sky as though it was an instinctive reaction.
A beautiful feminine figure was quickly outlined.
The figure was hooded and in a dark robe, its eyes looking blankly at Mr. A.
Then, Klein saw Mr. A being quickly erased as though he had become a pencil drawing, wiped out rapidly with an eraser, leaving nothing but his look of indignation and despair amidst the blankness and madness etched into his mind that was the only audience present.
It was a beautiful face, but it didn’t have the slightest expression. Its black eyes were deep and dark, devoid of spirituality.
Just when Klein’s heart was beating rapidly, thinking that he would disappear without a trace, without a clue as to whether he could be resurrected, the corners of the woman’s mouth slowly lifted into a smile.
Before he could regain his senses, the figure instantly faded and disappeared from where he was. The sound of water splashing around him echoed in the air.
Puzzled, Klein swam to the shore and got out of the water. Looking around, he found that this place was unusually remote. There were no roads or living people. Only the slightly turbid river water continued flowing in an unchanging manner.
After a moment of contemplation, he finally felt a sense of reality.
With a sigh of relief, Klein began to look for a way out.
…
“Exile!”
The man with the gold mask pointed at Azik Eggers and threw his figure into the void, a spot no one knew.
Then, he turned around to face Ince Zangwill, who was looking at him with a frown.
“There’s no time, we can’t finish him off that quickly! We have to hide this area as quickly as possible. Do you want the Church to discover our secret?” The man with the gold mask growled angrily.
Ince Zangwill put away his doubts, nodded, turned to 0-08 which had stopped writing, and grabbed it.
His figure was faltering somewhat, and by his legs were piled pants that had nearly been ripped apart in the middle of the battle.
…
Inside Red Rose Manor, Prince Edessak sat by the full-length windows with an abnormally vacant look in his eyes.
“Your Highness, please hurry.” A voice sounded beside him.
Edessak’s eyes turned spirited as he took a breath, picked up the revolver on the table, and pressed it against his temple. Inside it was a bullet that obliterated Spirit Bodies.
He turned his head and looked longingly out at the golf course and the strolling horses.
He pulled the trigger.
