The "corpse" did not suddenly spring up. Instead, it moved slowly.
Without keeping their eyes fixed on it, no one would have noticed such a movement, including Webster and his collaborator, who were focused entirely on each other.
The clash of fists and claws whipped up violent gusts that ravaged the hall.
The ceiling, floor, and walls quickly followed the glass containers and furnishings in being torn apart. Dust billowed through the entire hall, obscuring everyone's vision.
Every trace of their movements seemed about to vanish into the dust, yet neither combatant cared about giving himself away.
"Cook? Webster?"
"How very interesting."
The collaborator spoke in a cold, sinister voice.
"Yes, very interesting indeed..."
"Erbais K, returned from the dead. The fearsome Marquis K."
"I doubt even D realized that the man he killed was a stand-in."
"And me?"
"I never imagined my collaborator would turn out to be a Bloodkin, either."
Webster's reply was full of wonder.
As though he truly found this interesting.
But in reality?
His body had already begun moving without a sound.
Not toward the place where Marquis K's voice had come from, but toward where the cone-shaped object had drifted down.
Compared with fighting his opponent, Webster cared far more about that object.
And he knew his collaborator probably felt the same.
That was why Webster moved with extreme caution the entire time.
The violent gusts had already blown the cone-shaped object away from its original position. But in the final instant before dust completely engulfed the hall, even a fleeting glimpse had been enough for Webster to pinpoint its location.
Ten steps!
Five steps!
Three steps!
When he was three steps from where he remembered the cone-shaped object coming to rest, Webster stopped. He did not reach straight for it.
Instead, he waited