Ripples and Intelligence on the Trump Cards

Illusion and Dark Crow fell silent for a moment, then changed the subject.

"By the way, you said you ran into a Level 7 Wizard just now? What happened?" Illusion's tone returned to its usual calm. "Haven't the enemy's Level 7s been under our surveillance all along?"

Dark Crow sighed, and the black fluid at his severed limb drooped listlessly with him.

"The one I encountered was among those who weren't being watched."

Illusion's gaze abruptly sharpened.

"You mean—those people who vanished when the war began and have been setting up their trump cards ever since?" He spoke faster. "Wait, if I remember correctly, your defense zone was deep in our rear. Could it be—"

Dark Crow nodded, then shook his head.

"It was indeed them," he said. "But I was lucky. I only ran into one person. Otherwise, there's no way I would've made it back alive."

"One person—"

Illusion lowered his eyes, his index finger unconsciously tapping against his cuff.

A moment later, he raised his gaze. Understanding flashed through his dark crimson eyes. "I see."

Seeing this, Dark Crow grinned. "The others came to the same conclusion when they heard this intelligence." He paused. "It's not hard to guess, really.

"The Noren Workshop only has so many technologies it can use as trump cards. Now that they've scattered their manpower, what they're trying to set up is already obvious."

Illusion nodded. "Then our own arrangements have probably been exposed as well."

According to the intelligence, among the Noren Workshop's missing Level 7 Wizards, at least two specialized in soul studies.

With Soul School Wizards of that caliber roaming through the enemy's deep rear, claiming they could not locate the positions where their side had set up its trump cards would be nothing but deceiving themselves.

Dark Crow