Altair's revenge

"I choose punishment..." Ikanser Bernard glanced at the Archbishop, who was squinting at him, and sighed in Despair.

He swallowed the words he wanted to say and forced himself to answer:

"No."

The handwriting changed rapidly, revealing a line of bloody words:

You're lying!

Then, the words changed again:

"Task or punishment?"

Ikanser Bernard didn't dare look up at the Archbishop's expression at this moment, and said with a "what's the use" attitude:

"I choose punishment."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a bolt of silver lightning appeared out of thin air.

With a hissing sound, Ikanser Bernard's hair stood on end, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud, exhaling a thick plume of black smoke.

A few seconds later, he stood up shakily and heard the Archbishop's emotionless voice. "Continue to ask it questions."

Ikanser Bernard lowered his gaze slightly, nodded gently, and began to speak:

Is Altair currently in Backlund?

The blood-red writing on the silver mirror twisted and quickly revealed new content:

"Not here."

"If you had enough power, would you have considered having Horamick Hayden consult the great Arrodes?"

"I choose punishment!" Ikanser Bernard declared resolutely.

Another lightning strike wouldn't necessarily kill him, but if he continued answering this question, he seriously doubted how many obstacles he would have to overcome to get out of this mess.

"As you wish!" The words appeared on the silver mirror.

Immediately, a bolt of silver lightning struck Ikanser Bernard on the head once more.

"Boom--!"

He collapsed to the ground, his body charred black, his eyes rolled back, and his body twitched. He didn't get up for a long time.

Archbishop Horamick Hayden glanced down at Ikanser Bernard, then with a dismissive flick of his sleeve, stored the Sealed Artifact "2-111" inside.

He planned to temporarily seal the Magic Mirror and inform the other the Two Churches.

As for further pinpointing Altair's exact whereabouts, he planned to wait until Ikanser Bernard recovered somewhat before proceeding.

There are several pressing matters at hand, and Altair is not among them.

Backlund, at dusk.

Audrey Hall left the Duke’s Residence with her pet dog and Maid, passing by a richly decorated carriage.

Her gaze swept over the Badge outside the carriage before she looked straight ahead.

"That looks like Parliamentarian Begat's carriage. I've heard my father mention him; he's one of the brightest rising stars in the Kingdom's politics these past two years."

Related information flashed through Audrey's mind subconsciously, but she didn't overthink it. She whispered to the carriage, "It's getting dark, let's go straight home."

"Yes, miss."

The coachman cracked his whip with a sharp snap.

The luxurious carriage, adorned with the Hall Family Badge, quickly moved off, heading in the completely opposite direction from Parliamentarian Begat's carriage.

Time slips away unnoticed.

As the last rays of the setting sun dipped below the horizon, a crimson glow appeared on the sky.

Inside the train carriage, Parliamentarian Begat's face was grave, his mind replaying the information he had just gleaned indirectly from other New Party Parliamentarian:

"Damn Altair, he made me lose more than ten thousand pounds!"

"I heard that the Three Great Churches and the Military have decided to intensify their efforts to capture Believer of this Evil God. I really hope to see that day come soon!"

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but take a deep breath and think to himself:

"This guy has completely lost his mind!"

"If I had known he was this crazy, I shouldn't have provided him with the funds!"

A hint of annoyance flashed in Parliamentarian Begat's eyes.

The two had a pleasant working relationship before, and he trusted the other party's sense of propriety, which is why he didn't hesitate to lend money.

Who knew Altair would go this far this time!

Nearly one-fifth of the East Borough and one-third of the Factory District suffered severe damage, with nearly 20,000 dead and countless injured!

If he is captured alive, I will also be implicated. Not to mention the Three Great Churches, the Royal Family, and the Military, even other members of the New Party will not let me off the hook!

It's important to understand that the New Party's main support base consists of businessmen.

Many of their businesses are located in the Factory District.

"Damn bastard, has your brain been eaten by some great being of faith?!" Parliamentarian Begat couldn't help but curse inwardly.

Suddenly, the carriage jolted violently.

Unable to contain his anger, Parliamentarian Begat reached out and lifted the curtain:

What happened?

The driver, startled, shrank back and said:

"It seems there were two carriages that collided up ahead. Luckily we stopped in time, or we would have crashed into them too."

Parliamentarian Begat let out a long breath:

"Then let's take another route."

"If an injury occurs, the traffic jam might last for a very long time."

"Yes." The driver dared not say more, fearing that the Parliamentarian's temper would be vented on him, and quickly did as he was told, turning onto the side street.

Strange... there seems to be hardly anyone on this street... The driver kept glancing around out of the corner of his eye as he drove, when suddenly he sensed something was amiss.

The next second, a chill ran down his spine.

I've been a coachman for Parliamentarian Begat for a year and a half, traversing this street countless times every day. It's flanked by narrow alleys that don't allow carriages to pass. When did this new street appear?! No wonder there's no one else here. What kind of hellish place have I ended up in?!

"Member, Parliamentarian!"

Something's not right!

The driver turned around in a panic to look at the carriage, only to find it empty, and instead heard long, drawn-out breathing sounds coming from the back of his neck.

Like a frozen wax figure, he mustered the courage to slowly turn his head.

He saw a woman's face covered in blood, her eyes bulging as she stared at him, her expression Distortion and venomous.

"Ah!!!"

The driver screamed, his head lolled to the side, and he fainted.

Parliamentarian Begat, sensing something was amiss, abruptly pulled back the curtain and saw his old acquaintance standing by the roadside. He couldn't help but frown.

"Altair, aren't you going to escape? Are you going to stay in Backlund and wait to die?"

Where is this place?

He looked around and quickly realized that something was wrong in the vicinity.

Altair blew on his shoulder-length blond hair, which was obscuring his eyes from the wind, and gave a strange smile, "Who told you this was Backlund?"

"Old friend, I will leave Backlund, but not now."

"Once I have fulfilled the divine decree of the great Supreme Being, I will naturally leave this place with His blessings and begin my next journey."

"An oracle?" Parliamentarian Begat said irritably.

"Do you know that the Three Great Churches and the Royal Family are serious this time? If you dare to show your face, it's not certain you'll even survive the day!"

"Although we believe in different great beings, since we've met, I still advise you to leave as soon as possible to avoid getting yourself involved."