The bell of St. Peter's Cathedral barely managed to pierce through the raging wind and rain. By the time it reached the palace, its sound had become weak and muffled, like the groan of a dying old man. In a tower within the palace, a court mage, who had heard the faint sound, nearly jumped out of his seat.
"It's the bell of St. Peter's Cathedral. They're calling for help... Something must have happened," the court mage said as he stood and rushed to the window, gazing toward the cathedral. "And I remember they've never rung the bell like this before, so whatever happened must be significant."
"Shouldn't be anything small, especially at this time," General Oren said as he also approached the window, his eyes, normally dull, now filled with excitement. "I only hope so. I didn't expect it to happen just as I thought…"
"Do you think Bishop Aescher really…" The court mage hesitated, shaking his head and smiling bitterly. "I can't believe it…"
"Actually, logically, I don't believe it either. But whether something happens or not doesn't depend on what we believe…" Oren responded with a casual shrug.
"If... If this assassin really killed Bishop Aescher…" the court mage cautiously spoke, as if afraid to say it aloud in case it would make the possibility vanish. "We might actually owe him our thanks…"
Oren nodded, lightly clearing his throat. "Of course. I'll go find him now and thank him properly. You should come too."
The court mage asked, "How do you plan to thank this person who has helped us?"
"Of course, I'll take his head," Oren replied indifferently, drawing his longsword, which sparked with faint magical runes along its blade. Similar glowing runes also began to appear on his leather armor. "If he's capable of taking Aescher's head, he could do the same to anyone in Alrasia. Someone like that is dangerous to keep alive."
"If he really killed Aescher… do you think the two of us can handle him?" the court mage asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Assassination and direct combat are two different things. As long as Aescher or his guards aren't complete fools, the assassin won't leave unharmed. The key thing is, now he's the prey, and we're the hunters." General Oren glanced at the court mage. "Looks like it's too late to send people for a large-scale manhunt... With such an expert, having too many people would just get in the way. Can you track his trail in this storm?"
"The rain is too heavy. The person must be a master at stealth, and the number of people in the capital makes it difficult," the court mage hesitated, looking out at the torrential downpour. "Maybe within a hundred meters. My Magic Eye can only guarantee that I won't miss him within that range."
"Alright, within a hundred meters," Oren nodded, not bothering to wait any longer. He swiftly jumped from the tower.
The court mage closed his eyes and began muttering an incantation. Countless blue magical symbols poured from his body and gathered above his head, forming a giant eyeball, as large as his own head. This magical eye slowly rotated, its eerie pupils glowing with a blue light as it surveyed everything around.
The mage continued chanting and making complex hand gestures. His body slowly levitated off the ground, and after adding several magical shields, he flew out of the tower. The massive eye above him briefly paused before following the direction where Oren had vanished into the storm.
On top of St. Peter's Cathedral, a figure stood on the cross at the very top, quietly waiting for the next flash of lightning.
Her golden hair, soaked by the rain, clung tightly to her forehead, cheeks, and armor. Water poured down her neck and into her armor, soaking her completely. She had one hand placed over her brow, shielding her eyes from the rain, staring unblinkingly into the impenetrable darkness. She had not moved since she arrived, standing still as though she were a statue cast upon the rooftop.
St. Peter's Cathedral was the tallest building in the capital, and its peak was the closest point to the sky, where the lightning raged. Anyone daring to stand there at this moment could only be seeking death. The power of a thunderbolt from the sky far surpassed the lightning spells of any mage, even the protective lightning from a master air mage would be no match for the might of the heavens, resembling nothing more than a sheet of paper.
But she knew she had to wait. Only here, at the highest point in the capital, could she survey the farthest regions. Only when the lightning struck could it tear apart the overwhelming darkness and rain, allowing her to see the entire city for a brief moment.
Of course, she knew her glory armor would not be able to withstand a thunderstrike that might fall at any moment. The moment that lightning struck her, she would be reduced to nothing but a pile of charcoal inside her glowing armor. But she didn't care. All she knew was that she had to wait, and wait until she saw that person fleeing in panic. Her glowing armor, which emitted faint light in the darkness, was like a tiny firefly in the vast night, but no matter how strong the wind, rain, or lightning, that small light would always remain.
Several white lights moved along the streets. The cathedral guards had split into several groups and were chasing after the assassin. These lights were the priests maintaining their illumination spells, as no fire could be used in such heavy rain. The Kingdom's knight squads, who must have heard the bell, were also on their way to the cathedral. But in such a torrential storm, even a large-scale manhunt would be largely ineffective. The rain was so heavy that people could barely keep their eyes open, and even if they did, they could only see a few meters ahead. In such rain, no matter how skilled the tracker was, they would be unable to find any trace of the assassin. Such a search would be nothing but futile.
A blinding flash of lightning ripped apart the pitch-black sky for a moment, and a dull thunder rumbled above St. Peter's Cathedral.
Nothing was found, but Talice did not even blink. She merely changed direction, remaining still as she adjusted her stance. She did not feel fear, anxiety, or any other emotional fluctuations. Her mind was consumed only with one thought—finding that person and capturing him. With her advanced eagle-eye and tracking magic enhancing her vision, her eyes were bloodshot, and the mix of magical power and intense anger made her pupils blaze with light.
She was angry, unwilling, but most of all confused. She had clearly seen the person who had decapitated the bishop in one strike—it was Yabin. The person she had always trusted, liked, and considered her first real friend in this life. She couldn't accept this reality. She believed it was all his doing, his manipulation, and that capturing him was the only way to explain and resolve everything.
With the sound of thunder splitting her eardrums, another, even brighter bolt of lightning crossed the sky. For a moment, the city, dark as a wasteland, seemed to return to daylight.
Talice' pupils suddenly narrowed. In that instant, she finally saw him. A figure, stumbling but running quickly, about two or three miles away in the middle of the street. Like a leopard spotting its long-awaited prey, she immediately sprinted toward the roof, leaping down with a single bound.
With a loud crash, water splashed, and stone debris flew. Even with the cushioning effect of the Feather Fall spell, the impact from nearly a hundred meters was immense. The ground where she landed was cracked, and she stumbled briefly as pain shot through her bones and internal organs. She tasted blood in her throat but didn't pause for a moment. She cast a healing spell on herself and continued running toward her target.
The rain was torrential, so heavy it felt as though buckets of water were being poured from the sky. It was so difficult to see that opening one's eyes felt impossible. Every breath brought a rush of water into her nostrils, and standing in the rain felt like standing in water. The wind was fierce, and the rain felt like countless tiny fists hitting her from every direction.
It was pitch dark. Only the occasional lightning, accompanied by thunder, lit up the sky for an instant. The entire city was shrouded in darkness, suffocating in the sound of the wind, rain, and thunder. Even the cathedral's warning bells had been drowned out by the storm.
Asa had no idea what was happening. He couldn't feel the incredible storm around him, couldn't taste the rain in his mouth, couldn't even sense the pain as he slipped, fell, and struggled to get back up. It felt like a blind, deaf, and crippled dog, stumbling and crawling through the rain, trying to escape.
He only knew one thing—he had to run. But he didn't know where to run or how to escape. His mind felt like it had been filled with boiling lead, everything around him was a blur, and his thoughts were as chaotic as if his brain were being stirred into a mess.
Although Aescher's death had already caused the mental magical energy in his brain to lose control, within the encirclement, he unleashed not only his fighting energy and magic but also emitted a killing intent. All those present were experts, and no matter how impressive and convincing his fighting energy and magic seemed through meditation, without the presence of killing intent, it would have no real pressure. It would be like a tiger roaring fiercely, but without visible claws, which only proves the bluff.
Releasing fighting energy and magic that was originally far beyond his level, and then having to use a necromantic fireball spell to block the pursuers, nearly exhausted all of his fighting energy and magical power. However, killing intent is not something anyone can easily unleash. It must come from genuine murderous thoughts, a strong desire to attack mixed with one's own momentum. Only then can it produce true killing intent. Therefore, there must have been a real sense of hostility and fighting spirit at that moment. This caused the suppressed power to vanish, and the killing intent surged like throwing a torch into a pile of dry wood that had just been extinguished, awakening the dormant mental magical power.
Although this magical power was no longer controlled by anyone, it was still the full force of a top mental mage on the continent. If it weren't for the meditation technique, which could slightly alleviate and maintain his clarity, he would have likely gone mad long ago.
The vast capital of Alrasia looked like a city abandoned for many years. Whether it was the knight delivering the bad news or the pursuing soldiers, all had completely disappeared into the darkness, and the sound of the wind and rain was overwhelming. Asa stumbled alone, running in this death zone, unable to see anything or know where to go.
At this moment, the Wild Highlands were filled with countless stars.
Especially in the wide plaza of the Orford City Hall, one could take in the city's rough style and the starry sky all at once. The teleportation magic array was right in the center of the plaza, and there were no guards around, only three figures who had just arrived through the teleportation standing there, and the noise was particularly jarring in the quiet of the night.
"If it weren't for him, you would have already become a pile of stinky mud in a gutter. And you still have the face to escape alone?" Jessica glared at Yabin with killing intent. If she were not sure that he was not one of Aescher's subordinates, she would have attacked him immediately.
"I didn't want this either. But what else could I do?" Yabin's face turned red, not from guilt but from helplessness. He was now thousands of miles away from Alrasia, and no matter how worried or anxious he was, it was useless. He couldn't even know what was happening there.
"You better pray that he's safe…" The dark elf looked at Yabin with a look full of resentment, then at the fallen Ayime. "Otherwise, I'll make you both regret being born into this world. The little girl is crazy, isn't she? Consider it her luck. But I promise you'll watch me tear her apart."
A vein popped on Yabin's forehead: "You..."
A team of orcs arrived at the scene. This was a team made up of fully armored ogres and werewolves, but at the forefront was a short werewolf who was barely at waist height.
"Lord Borugan," Yabin recognized this short one as the deputy of the Orford city lord, whom he had seen last time when he came with a merchant convoy.
Jessica watched these tall, dangerous, quasi-humans warily. Although Asa had told her about the situation in Orford, it was her first time coming to Orford, and her first time interacting with these humanoid creatures from the surface world.
"You... should be from the Shadow Troops, right?" Lord Borugan sized up the three of them. He had also heard from Theodorus about Asa's new subordinates. Now, only these people could use this newly established teleportation magic array. "Where is your leader?"