In the desolate fields outside the city, the old butler Finkel was fleeing at top speed.
He had lost his hat, his meticulously combed gray hair hung down in disarray, and his clothes were covered in mud.
Huff, huff... He paused briefly, panting, and looked back. Finding no one there, he felt slightly relieved.
But when he turned his head to change direction, he found that there was a figure in front of him at some point.
The figure wore a hooded, classic robe, with dark eyes hidden in the shadows and a blank, expressionless face.
Finkel's pupils contracted, and he immediately opened his mouth, trying to utter an Ancient Hermes, but was shocked to find that his nose was disappearing and his voice was gone.
His expression suddenly turned to despair, and then his whole being was wiped clean like a stain in the void, leaving no trace.
Achoo! Achoo! Cough! Cough!
Faced with Mr. A's impending Fatal Attack, Klein is ill with a headache and fever, making it difficult for him to Flame Manipulation and leap.
At that point, he couldn't even manufacture Air Bullet.
Fear of the unknown outcome gripped his mind, and a sense of danger from the " Clown " made him "see" himself suddenly split apart, disintegrating into the smallest particles of light, perhaps with no chance of resurrection.
In an instant, Klein reached into his pocket and grasped an item.
This was his pre-planned contingency plan for the most dangerous situation!
No matter how rushed things are, the " Magician " is always prepared and won't panic or be at a loss in the battle.
Klein took out the Azik Copper Whistle, brought it to his lips, and blew it with difficulty amidst sneezes and coughs!
Without any prior warning, he saw through his Spirit Vision that white bones gushed forth like a fountain, quickly forming a giant messenger with black flames burning in its eye sockets.
At that moment, Mr. A stopped turning the pages of the book in front of him, and the distant sound abruptly ceased.
A burst of green light surged out, and the nearly four-meter-tall skeletal messenger split open, breaking into countless pure points of light.
Behind it, the force that had forced Klein to spin in place collapsed first, and the figure in the black double-breasted long dress was immediately enveloped, turning into a statue cast in yellow sand, which was then blown away by the wind.
But what dissipated were white spots, like paper scraps torn to the extreme.
Klein appeared on the other side, kneeling on the ground, coughing loudly and uncontrollably.
If the skeletal messenger hadn't blocked his way, he wouldn't have had time to suppress the illness and use the Paper Figurine Substitute!
After all this ordeal, his illness worsened, and he almost lost the ability to fight it off.
Just then, Mr. A, whose Fatal Strike had failed, also started coughing, coughing even more violently than Klein.
He crawled down in agony, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.
Cough cough cough!
He coughed up a pile of broken internal organs and writhing flesh, then struggled to open his mouth, trying to lick them back into his mouth and force them back in.
What's going on? Klein was momentarily confused.
But that didn't stop him from suppressing his cough, raising his right hand, and aiming his revolver at Mr. A's head.
In that instant, he vaguely realized that Mr. A's physical injuries could be healed and maintained with Flesh and Blood Magic, but the impact and backlash on his mind and Spirituality could not be compensated for in this way.
Mr. A should have switched to another extraordinary ability to slowly heal the wounds of his spirit, but he was driven by hatred and forcibly suppressed it, chasing after him. As a result, after continuously consuming and using extraordinary abilities beyond his own capacity, the situation worsened and he suddenly erupted.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Klein fired all the bullets from his revolver; streaks of brass, pale gold, and silver light flashed across the short distance between them.
To his regret, he was unable to control his sneezing and coughing during the process, and not all the bullets hit their mark. Only two bullets struck Mr. A, one entering his forehead and the other his torso.
Sizzle!
A burning sound rang out, but Mr. A's head seemed to have no bones, only a pile of rotten flesh, into which the pale golden bullet was deeply embedded. It quickly stopped, failing to cause fatal damage, and only emitted a golden light like sunlight.
Mr. A raised his neck, and the flesh inside his head, which had a hole in it, was writhing wildly.
He did not die, nor was he seriously injured.
He was once the resilient " Rose Bishop "!
Seeing this, Klein made a snap decision, turned and ran, no longer attempting to attack. Mr. A, panting heavily, lowered his head again and licked the bits of flesh and entrails he had coughed up.
Sneezing and coughing occurred alternately, and Klein stumbled and rolled around as he ran.
Finally, he escaped to the very edge, where there was a cliff face more than fifty meters high.
Below the cliff, the slightly turbid Tussock River flows ceaselessly, wide but calm.
Without hesitation, Klein pushed off with his feet and jumped.
He plummeted rapidly, experiencing the intense feeling of weightlessness that comes with free fall.
His body tore through the air, attempting to adjust his posture mid-air, transitioning into a standard diving move.
Cough! Achoo!
The illness caused him to stop rolling three and a half times midway, and he also failed to open his body and adjust his palms properly.
With a splash, he crashed onto the water's surface, turning into a thin sheet of white paper.
The paper figure quickly became wet, half-sinking and half-floating.
Not far away, underwater, Klein's figure was outlined, trembling slightly.
His clothes were soaked, as were the remaining papers inside and the banknotes in his wallet.
After getting away from Mr. A, the illness was relieved... Klein thought with lingering fear.
If his coughing and sneezing hadn't subsided considerably at the last moment, he wouldn't have even had time to use the Paper Figurine Substitute Method; he would have suffered internal bleeding from the fall and died instantly. Of course, if that were the cause of death, he felt he could be resurrected.
As he kicked his feet through the water, Klein created an invisible, hollow tube in his mouth, extending it above the surface to bring himself fresh air.
This is the Magician's Underwater Breathing performance!
Klein inhaled through his mouth and exhaled through his nose, preventing the murky air from contaminating the pipes, and then directly into the water.
Meanwhile, he quietly swam towards the shore, hoping to avoid Mr. A's pursuit.
Unfortunately, this isn't a city, so the Faceless's abilities can't be effectively utilized. Otherwise, once we're separated, Mr. A would definitely never be able to find me again... As he swam, this thought flashed through Klein's mind.
This made him think of a problem: Mr. A had previously used his extraordinary ability to control the wind.
Generally speaking, this belongs to the " Lord of Storms " path... This path is characterized not only by wind but also by water, and is especially adept at underwater activities... Underwater activities... " Shepherd " is too comprehensive and too terrifying! As the thought flashed through his mind, Klein's heart almost stopped beating.
He suddenly swam upstream, no longer hiding his true intentions!
As soon as he surfaced and approached the shore, he saw Mr. A's eerily beautiful face, covered in fish scales and with gill openings.
Mr. A, his long crimson robe floating on the water, curled his lips into a smile, his eyes filled with a palpable hatred.
Fight! We have no choice but to fight! Try to hold out until the church's reinforcements arrive, or Mr. Azik is freed! With his illness subsiding, Klein raised his right hand without hesitation, ready to snap his fingers.
At that moment, the two of them looked up at the sky at the same time, almost as an instinctive reaction.
A figure with feminine grace quickly emerged there.
The figure wore a hood and a dark robe, staring blankly at Mr. A.
Then, Klein saw Mr. A seemingly turn into a pencil drawing, quickly erased by an eraser, powerless to resist, leaving only a bewildered yet unwilling, mad yet desperate look in his eyes etched into the mind of the only Spectator present.
What... what kind of status is this! What kind of strength is this! Klein had barely formed this thought when he noticed the figure turn its head and look at him.
It was a beautiful face, but without any expression; its black eyes were dark and deep, yet lacked Spirituality.
Just as Klein's heart was pounding, thinking he would also disappear silently and wonder if he would ever be resurrected, the woman's lips slowly twitched upwards, revealing a smile.
A smile? Klein was stunned, wondering if he was dreaming.
Before he could react, the figure faded away instantly, disappearing from the spot, leaving only the sound of rushing water echoing silently around him.
Confused and puzzled, Klein swam to the shore, climbed up, and looked around. He found the place to be unusually remote, with no roads or other living people, only the slightly murky river flowing unchangingly.
That's it? Mr. A is dead just like that? Who was that lady just now? She was so strong that Mr. A didn't even have time to scream... She even smiled at me... smiled... Maybe it was Her? But apart from the Pope, where are the Angel walking on earth in the three major churches? And the Pope's level is obviously not in Backlund... Klein couldn't believe he was out of danger.
After calming himself down, he finally found some sense of reality:
"She must have been a powerful figure sent by the church. She arrived just in time and successfully rescued me."
"If I hadn't notified Miss ' Justice ' in advance, they might not have had time to act, and I would most likely be dead at Mr. A's hands today, not even knowing if I could be resurrected..."
"Yes, there's also the factor of my insistence on dragging the battle out until now."
"Not bad..."
Klein breathed a sigh of relief, coughed twice, and began searching for a way out.
" Exile!"
The man in the golden mask pointed at Azik Eggers and tossed his image into the void, disappearing into who-knows-where.
He immediately turned to face Ince Zangwill was frowning at him.
"There's no time! We can't deal with him so quickly! We must hide here as soon as possible; Exile is the only option! Do you want the church to discover our secret?" the man in the golden mask said angrily in a deep voice.
Ince Zangwill put aside his doubts, nodded, turned around and went to the "0-08" that had stopped writing, and grabbed it.
His figure was somewhat unsteady, with his trousers, almost torn in the battle, piled up at his feet.
Inside the Red Rose Manor, Prince Edessak sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, his eyes unusually vacant.
"Your Highness, please hurry." A voice sounded beside him.
Edessak's eyes came to life. He took a breath, picked up the revolver on the table, and pressed it against his temple. Inside was a bullet capable of obliterating spirits.
He turned back and gazed longingly at the golf course and the horses strolling outside.
Bang!
He pulled the trigger.