Gurgle!
Flesh churned inside Morick's shell like roiling magma, giving off scorching heat. Great tongues of flame burst out and set him ablaze.
Yet there was not a trace of fear on Morick's face. His eyes held an indescribable mockery. Then, with a boom, his already charred body exploded.
Augustus remained expressionless. A vortex appeared in his pupils, and the fragments spraying in every direction immediately twisted, swept back, and compressed into a ball of flame smaller than a goose egg.
With a whoosh, it burned away completely, leaving not even a speck of ash.
"A single-use spatial string sorcery creation, Rift Leap..." The other Weaver looked grim. Clutching a broken necklace, he said coldly, "And an Otherworldly Demon's magic artifact. To think the True God Church has sunk so low as to collude with Otherworldly Demons."
Augustus glanced at him. This Weaver was Edwin, a member of the Cromwell family, which controlled the Federation's judicial system.
Edwin was furious at having been outmaneuvered, and Augustus was in no better mood.
The Federation's upper ranks had meticulously investigated everyone around "Rosha," and Morick's irregularities had not escaped the notice of Augustus and the other Weavers.
Although they were almost certain Morick was the mole the True God Church had planted in the High Tower Institute, Augustus and the others had not immediately moved against him.
It was not out of fear of the High Tower Institute. They wanted to squeeze the greatest possible value out of Morick, using the big fish, "Rosha," to hook whoever stood behind him.
Morick was already a veteran Upper Resonance Master. Only a Weaver could command him.
Since the appearance of the tree of myriad phenomena, Weavers were no longer merely beings standing at the pinnacle of Spellcasters. They were also Vysseran's most precious resources.