The tea sprayed upward, instantly casting a perfect arc of water above Arthur's head. Every droplet remained deep red and translucent, vying with the brilliance of the moon high above.
Deep red as blood.
Brilliant as frost.
For a moment, the two reflected each other.
Even the arrows pouring like rain and the pellets thick as snow paled beside them.
The murderous force carried by the arrows and pellets vanished within a breath.
All that remained was...
Deathly aura!
The deathly aura permeating the entire manor seemed to become countless hands clamped around the attackers' necks, robbing them of their last traces of life.
Bodies tumbled from the steep cliffs, one after another.
By the time they hit the ground, they were already smashed to pieces.
With every crunch of shattered flesh and bone, more people appeared atop the cliffs, scattering blessed coarse salt by the handful as though it cost nothing.
Hissing filled the air.
Blessed red brick powder was also poured down the cliffs beneath their feet.
Soon, the trails of red brick powder joined end to end, forming a "circle."
A "circle" that trapped the young "Medium."
And within the last remaining "gap" in that "circle"-
Step, step, step!
Distinct footsteps echoed continuously through the ravine path.
A slightly stooped, middle-aged man with graying temples emerged.
The middle-aged man walked very slowly.
With every step, he scattered a line of the red brick powder he carried.
Ten steps meant ten lines.
A hundred steps meant a hundred lines.
By the time the middle-aged man emerged from the ravine, the former "gap" had already become the strongest point.
Not merely because of the barrier formed by the red brick powder, of course.
But also because of the middle-aged man himself.
"Good evening, Sir Credos."
He greeted the young