The Intelligence That Turns the Tables

"Haah, haah, haah."

Between the azure sky and sea, Firona raised her petrified face, with only her right eye still intact. One hand clutched her ghastly pale throat, split open by a savage gash, as she flew from the bay world at the fastest speed of her life and raced desperately in a specific direction.

Her breathing was weak, and her brain starved for oxygen. Fortunately, a cool emerald radiance continuously enveloped the wound in her throat and windpipe, ensuring that bright red blood never spilled from it.

At the same time, a figure brimming with murderous intent pursued her relentlessly through the sky, a thousand meters behind Firona.

The pursuer wore a bloodstained long dress, with ravishing features and flowing hair. Yet the overwhelming killing intent pouring from her body was enough to warp the air around her. It was Jupetz, the veteran Theater Petrification Clown who had driven Firona into a corner earlier.

(Little brat, I absolutely won't let you escape.)

(You dared to injure my beautiful face—such a monstrous sin cannot be repaid merely by dying.)

(I, Jupetz, swear it.)

(That exquisite skin of yours, whether I make it into dessert afterward or use it as a face mask...)

(In any case, I will peel it off your face alive—whole and fresh------!)

At that thought, hatred and greed turned into a murky gleam that flickered madly in Jupetz's eyes, accompanying her as she steadily narrowed the distance between herself and Firona.

Yet even as the cruel banshee pursued her relentlessly from behind, Firona kept her single gleaming eye wide open. Her will to survive and her will to win still blazed like a raging fire!

"Huff... huff."

Amid the muddy yellow desert and billowing waves of dust, Erigat raised his steel face, its surface webbed with cracks,