Jetia arrives! Oliver's attitude!

"Your end is now."

Oliver's fingers moved in a deliberate gesture, and black flames erupted, consuming the man, erasing him from existence.

Oliver sat down on the ground afterward and slowly lay back, heaving slightly. His muscles quivered with fatigue, every breath labored, as if the battle's weight still lingered.

The silence that followed was almost surreal, the echoes of the battle fading into nothingness.

The calm after the storm was unsettling, as though the world itself held its breath, waiting for something more.

Espera gathered around him as he guided it through his body, filling his now depleted reserves.

He closed his eyes and rested for a bit. A moment of peace in the midst of chaos, however brief, was a luxury he rarely afforded himself.

The battle had been taxing, but the relief of victory was fleeting, like a shadow slipping through his fingers. Victory's taste was always bitter, laced with a cost that could not be ignored

He began gathering espera at a fast pace, thanks to his high talent. It would not take long before he was back to his peak again. Yet, the urgency to recover quickly gnawed at him; he knew there was no time to waste.

Just as he was settling down, his instincts started to warn him again. This time, a very heavy feeling settled on his mind. It was as if the air itself had thickened, suffocating under the weight of something dark.

A cold shiver ran down his spine, the air thickening with an ominous presence that couldn't be ignored.

His heart skipped a beat, the instinctual dread creeping into his bones like an unwelcome guest.

He instantly got up and looked back, his complexion not too great.

'Ah, don't tell me Sigfor did not manage to win?'

His mind raced through the possibilities. The thought of Sigfor's defeat didn't just unsettle him—it terrified him.

Sigfor was their anchor; without him, everything could unravel.

The eerie silence was broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the wind, a sound that now seemed far too ominous. Oliver could feel it, a disturbance in the air.

His senses sharpened, picking up the faintest hint of a presence approaching—one that was neither friend nor foe, but something else entirely.

He clenched his fists, his body still aching from the previous battle, but he knew there would be no time to rest. Rest was a luxury he could not afford; survival demanded every ounce of strength he had left.

His heart pounded in his chest as he strained to listen, every muscle tensing as he prepared for what was to come.

If another powerful enemy was approaching, it meant things were far more complicated than he had anticipated.

The situation was spiraling out of control, and he knew he was running out of options.

He cursed at the uselessness of the old man; what kind of veteran was he, then? A veteran who couldn't win when it mattered most was more of a liability than an asset.

His eyes changed colors as the world before him shifted, changing into nothing but a transparent detailed view… The familiar sight of his enhanced vision brought clarity, but also dread. What he saw confirmed his worst fears.

'This…'

He frowned as a swirling mass of black energy drew near their location. It was massive—far more massive than any of the heretics combined.

He could feel goosebumps just from seeing it closing in.

'What in the world is that?'

Oliver knew the answer to his question: it was likely that the heretic heading their way was the leader of the earlier group of three heretics.

He did not have the confidence to fight against that swirling black energy at all. The mere thought of confronting such a force sent a chill through his veins.

He had to escape with the others before the person arrived. Fighting was no longer an option; survival was the only priority now.

Well, escape was the first thing that came to his mind!

'I…' he wondered about possible scenarios he could create to escape. His mind raced, calculating every possible route, every possible outcome, but each seemed more dire than the last.

He still had some cards up his sleeve, confident that he could escape if the worst came to the worst, but what about the others? His escape might be assured, but abandoning the others was not an option. The guilt would be unbearable.

His main concern was ensuring the safety of the others. They were the future hope of humanity, and he could not let them die in a place like this. The burden and responsibilities on his shoulders would be immense if he acted alone. The weight of their lives pressed down on him, making the air feel even heavier.

"Wait, what if I do that…" Oliver murmured as his eyes shone with a clever glint. He walked towards the place where Nadia and Evelyn were supposed to be and saw them healing their injuries while meditating.

A plan began to take shape in his mind, a risky one, but the only one that might work.

"I apologize, but what is about to come is too dangerous, and I fear that I won't be able to hide my abilities any further in front of the entity. So you two must sleep."

With a thought, his figure blurred, his speed even faster than what he had displayed against the heretics, as he appeared behind the two girls stealthily.

Before they could even realize his presence, a swift blow to their necks sent them unconscious. He could not help but feel a little awkward; he had used more force than he had anticipated.

After all, he did not know where the pressure point was to knock them out, so he could only depend on force to render them senseless.

His lack of finesse was regrettable, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Fortunately, he was careful enough not to break their necks.

He picked them both up and carried them to where the rest of the group was.

Laying them in a discreet spot, reddish-black energy started to swirl around him as the air seemed to crackle with tension the moment the energy was released.

The power he unleashed was raw and primal, a force that bent the very fabric of space even.

He noticed the frown on Evelyn's face and shook his head. The reddish-black energy flowed as gently as water despite its chaotic nature under his control and slowly enveloped the five of them like a big dark cocoon.

The cocoon of energy was their shield, a fragile barrier between life and death.

After finishing the process, he looked at the dark covering enveloping the group and smiled. They should be undetectable for the time being.

A small victory in the face of overwhelming odds, but he knew it wouldn't last long.

He looked at the entrance of the mountain with keen eyes and jumped down the rocks, slowly descending.

He could tell the enemy was almost here.

Creak!

The door to the mountain entrance creaked open, and a tall man with long hair entered with calm steps.

As soon as the man entered, his gaze was locked onto Oliver, examining him with interest. The intensity of the man's gaze was unsettling, as though he were dissecting Oliver with his eyes alone.

Oliver, feeling the man's gaze, felt an unpleasant sensation spreading throughout his body. It was as if the man's very presence was a poison, seeping into his veins and clouding his thoughts.

"Are you the heir of the Mystic Purge Clan, kid?" the man questioned in a calm, unbothered tone.

"State your name."

Hearing Oliver's words, Jetia raised a brow. Why did he feel that the kid before him was exceptionally calm and bold?

It did not seem like he feared him at all.

Did he not realize who he was and the aura behind him?

To make sure he understood, Jetia released a torrent of his dark espera, enveloping the entire mountain base in an instant.

"Now tell me, are you the one from the Mystic Purge Clan or not?" Jetia asked, this time his tone more overbearing.

He already knew that the kid was from the Mystic Purge Clan, given his white hair shining distinctively, but he wanted to hear it from the kid's mouth.

He wanted to crush that arrogance from before.

However, a calm voice rang out again amidst the terrifying pressure.

"Did I stutter?" the voice asked.

"Introduce yourself."

Jetia's head snapped up to look at Oliver, his eyes showing a surprised expression, clearly not expecting him to be able to endure his espera.

His expression twisted momentarily before he regained his composure.

"I am Jetia, one of the twelve saints of the Unholy Sun Sect."

"You seem quite skilled for a Rank-1 exorcist," Jetia smirked. He added, "Now tell me, are you the one?"

"You are not worthy enough to know."

"You…" Jetia's smile crooked.

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