Magician

Chapter - 23

Albert and his companions reflexively stepped back two paces. Not because they feared the robed figures, but because they were holding back laughter at the sight of Zavi kneeling while clutching his groin.

A few seconds later, Albert slightly raised his head. His gaze moved right, then left, then behind him, staying alert in case any of the robed figures above launched a simultaneous attack.

Then, from the left, heavy footsteps approached. Albert turned his head and saw Moreira walking toward him.

Suddenly, Albert raised one hand. Feyne, Luke, Moreira, and the robed figure all fixed their eyes on him sharply.

"I am just a passerby who happens to run a business. Nothing more," Albert said.

He let out a short breath, choosing his next words carefully.

"Perhaps the person you are looking for is over there." Albert pointed toward Moreira.

Moreira’s eyes widened. "Hey, hey. You bastard. Why are you pointing at me?" he shouted, unable to hide his shock.

The robed figure who had kicked Zavi earlier lowered her hood. Her face was now exposed. A pale skinned woman with long black hair flowing past her shoulders and blue eyes that shimmered like stars in the night sky, her elegance striking and unmistakable.

"What do you mean?" she asked, slowly circling Albert.

Albert looked at her flatly, without emotion.

"Huh? Miss, did you not catch what I said earlier?"

Click.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Zavi pulled the trigger without hesitation. Shot after shot slammed into the woman’s body until the magazine ran dry. Not a single bullet was spared.

"Ughh…" Her robe tore in several places. From the bullet holes in her chest, blood slowly flowed, seeped outward, and soaked into the dark fabric until it turned a deep crimson.

The woman staggered and dropped to her knees. One hand covered her mouth as her breathing came in broken gasps. "Damn you… you…" she muttered weakly.

"Huh… not bad at all," commented the man who had spoken to them earlier, his tone almost amused.

Albert and his companions looked up at the same time. Moreira also froze, his thoughts in chaos. This situation had completely deviated from anything he had planned.

In the end, he decided to move closer to Zavi and the others. Ten robed figures were far too dangerous to face alone. A temporary alliance seemed like the only reasonable option.

But his steps stopped abruptly.

Moreira’s eyes widened.

The woman who should have been on the brink of death slowly stood up. The wounds on her body began to close, the blood stopped flowing, and her breathing returned to normal, as if the shots had never happened.

Spiritual energy is not exhausted, it is not dead.

This makes no sense. Is that woman a monster…? Moreira thought, his throat turning dry.

Meanwhile, Zavi already knew this was how it would end. He let out a deep breath and slipped the pistol back into his pocket.

This makes no sense. Is she no longer an ordinary human? What chance does a normal person have against someone with such terrifying supernatural power? Zavi thought, uncertain of what would happen next.

At the moment he was about to give up, from behind him, Albert stepped closer, patted his shoulder, smiled faintly, and said, "Do not forget that we are here to help you."

Zavi turned his head. His blue eyes, which moments ago had looked resigned, now shone once more after hearing those words.

He smiled faintly. "Yeah," he replied, already turning his mind, planning the next move.

Albert pulled a silver revolver from inside his coat and handed it to Zavi. He knew the weapon he had given earlier was useless now. Zavi had no ammunition left.

Zavi accepted the revolver carefully. "Thank you. Are you interested in my shooting skills?"

Albert chuckled softly, as if they were not surrounded by enemies.

Good thing I used to play shooting games a lot when I was fourteen. Along with war games. Turns out it was useful after all, Zavi thought.

The street suddenly fell silent. Only the night wind swept through the narrow alley, mixed with each person’s breathing and heartbeat.

That silence shattered with a flash of light. A fast streak passed along the left side. Five robed figures on the rooftop were forced to jump down.

"Huh? That was fast… What was that just now?" one of them muttered.

Tap.

The five robed figures lined up on the left side of the alley, staring at the man now standing before them.

"The strange creature has already disappeared," he said. "And it sent chills down my spine when I saw it. I know you were the one who sent it to me, Lucian… Alistair."

Huh, lucky it already vanished. And since when was I afraid of that thing? he thought in confusion.

Karl wiped his glasses with a soft cloth, then put them back on with precision. He adjusted the frame and stared at his old companion for several seconds with a sharp gaze, smiling in admiration.

Admiration toward Lucian for carrying out what he had ordered back when they were still fellow members of the heretical Finiscya sect.

Lucian, standing in the center, slowly lowered his hood and tossed it behind him, revealing a brown shirt, long black trousers, and leather boots. "It has been a long time. Have you been wel—"

The sentence stopped.

Lucian’s vision suddenly trembled. Karl face in front of him shifted left and right, splitting apart. The world seemed to spin without direction.

He dropped to one knee, his brow deeply furrowed. He had not even realized that he could no longer feel his sight and his hearing, having been trapped inside an illusion.

Lucian was not the only one affected. His companions felt the same, including the five still standing on the rooftops, who then jumped down after being caught by the illusion.

The vision of all ten robed figures collapsed at once.

Sound vanished first. Absolute silence, like the world had been buried deep underwater. Then their sight faded, colors and shapes peeling away from reality.

Yet that darkness was not empty.

Behind their eyes, shadows began to form.

They were never whole. Distorted, elongated, moving without any source of light. The silhouettes stood too close, as if breathing down their necks. Some crawled along the walls, some hung upside down in the air, others simply stood still… watching.

Karl and the others saw nothing except the robed figures’ bodies staggering as they lost balance, searching for escape using only what they could feel.

But to the ten robed figures, the shadows were real. Existing between the subconscious and the real world, showing events they should no longer remember and other things capable of injuring both mind and heart.

They saw hands reaching from the edges of vision that should no longer exist. Dark mouths opening without sound. Faded faces drawing close, then pulling away, only to reappear elsewhere.

Some of them screamed, yet no sound came out. Others collapsed, covering their faces with trembling hands, as if that could drive away something untouchable.

The illusion did not show death. The illusion showed something waiting. And as long as Karl remained standing, the shadows would not leave.

A few seconds after all ten were fully trapped, blood began to pour from Karl mouth. His vision swayed back and forth, and every breath felt like his chest was being forcibly pumped, painfully, as if it would burst from within.

He wanted to scream, but he endured the pain.

His body had gone beyond its limit, yet he forced himself to endure just long enough for the robed figures to be dragged away, lost within the timeless illusion, stripped of their two most important senses in the real world.

As the illusion’s effect began to loosen, the ten robed figures looked at Karl with expressions of oppression. Not anger, but bodies trembling in fear.

Seeing that opening, Albert finally took out the five talismans he had been holding onto and threw them, each talisman binding two robed figures.

It can be said that Albert was obsessed with supernatural things, or more precisely, he wanted to find meaning in people's deaths and the collapse of morality. Therefore, he and his two companions always carried amulets as a precaution.

Such as a sleeping amulet that allows one to sleep soundly in a beautiful dream without time constraints, an amulet that removes obstacles with the condition of two pieces of paper, one carried and the other placed at the desired location, and other useful amulets.

In a world on the brink of crisis, there are eight continents, each with large and small kingdoms, cities, villages, mountains, forests, rivers, languages, and politics. One of these continents worships nine gods and goddesses, believed to have their own duties to protect the world from above.

The ten robed figures vanished from where they stood, transferred to the locations of the other talismans deep in the forest, directly beneath the steam train bridge, right at the border between Moran and the royal capital.

A few seconds later, his body became extremely weak, and his consciousness began to fade. Before his body could collapse onto the cold stone road still damp from the earlier rain, Zavi caught him with his arm.

"You always push yourself. Turns out your scenario was not bad at all," Zavi said, smiling warmly.