Osian kept running.
The wind whipped at his skin, but he didn't stop.
He was a little out of breath, but considering how far he'd run, even that was surprising.
'I've felt that I was stronger, but my stamina is incredible.’
I'm sure my stamina gauge was maxed out by the end of the run.
But even so, it was amazing to run on two legs the distance a train would have to go.
He even managed to catch up to a group of jeeps and motorcycles that had set off earlier.
His body was running with the wind at his back.
Every ti he passed by, the tall grasses along the road were swept away by the wind and laid flat on their sides.
He ran like this for ten minutes.
Osian reached the city of Sadnafal, the city of the witch's contact.
Sadnafal was one of the major cities of the Republic of Osnaphalos, and the closest to the Golden City of Tirna.
It was also one of the most heavily traveled.
Most people who wanted to go to Tirna would pass through it.
A city where you can do anything, regardless of your status, as long as you have the ability and money, seems like a land of opportunity.
It was inevitable that those who wanted to go to Tirna would pass through Sadnafal.
Naturally, Sadnafal served as a great conduit, a place where many races ca and went.
The number of people wandering around in front of him is hard to fathom.
This was where Osian needed to find the witch.
‘First, the witch chose the train station as a eting point.’
Heading straight for the station, Osian stops in his tracks when he sees a group of white robes exiting through the station entrance.
'Priests of the Papacy of Petra.’
TLN: I’ll also use the termPapacy of Petra to refer to the Holy Kingdom of Petra.
The Petra Church mbers who ca out of the station talked among themselves and then dispersed in small groups.
'We're too late.'
The fact that they ca out ans that Petra’s Church has already tracked down the witch and confird the station.
But judging from their serious expressions, they must have missed the witch.
‘We still have a chance. The question is, where did she go?’
This city was new to Osian.
He's been here many tis in the ga, but it's been so long that the city has changed.
The basic layout of the city might be the sa, but it was hard to tell what was in which section.
‘If I leave it like this, they'll find her first.’
The Order of Petra hadn't been hunting heretics for long for nothing.
They had a knack for finding heretics in hiding, and the n now roaming the streets were undoubtedly skilled at it.
But the fact that they'd split up and scattered rather than move in a confident manner made it clear that their client, the witch, had done sothing.
She wasn't just being chased helplessly, either.
'It's a race against ti. I need to find her and take her away.’
In the worst case scenario, a conflict with the Order of Petra would be inevitable.
Osian thought so as he strode forward.
"Uh, huh?"
The man standing at the entrance to the alleyway, unfolding a newspaper, looked puzzled as Osian approached him.
Osian spoke to the man with the nicely trimd mustache.
"Tell the location of the witch the Order of Petra is after."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Who are you and why would you suddenly ask such a question.......?"
"You'd better stop trying to fool . You've been watching from the beginning."
Osian had been feeling the eyes on him ever since he ca here.
He'd let it go because he had no enemies.
It's probably one of the organizations that runs this city, a group that thrives on information.
That's why he needed them now.
"Looks like this is the end of the line. Bring to your superiors."
"......."
The man's expression changed, as if he were wearing a mask.
With one hand, he still held the newspaper open, and with the other, he drew a pistol from his waistband.
But before he could, Osian's hand moved.
"You're going to do this in front of everyone?"
“Uh, before I knew it…….”
Osian's hand grabbed the man's muzzle.
The man tried to struggle, but Osian's grip on the muzzle didn't budge.
Osian smirked at the sight, then tightened his grip.
-Snap.
The long muzzle bent into a U-shape, pointing at the man.
"If you want to shoot, you can shoot."
"......."
The man's eyes flickered.
He was trying to figure out how to handle this situation in his head.
Should he obediently lead Osian to where the branch leader is, or should he try to keep the secret until the end?
The man chose the latter.
He looked over Osian's shoulder and chuckled.
"You're an idiot, if you knew who we are you wouldn’t have ssed with us."
"Huh."
Osian knew why he was acting like that.
It was the way the gang mbers were moving toward them.
Each one of them had blended in with the others.
But when they showed their true colors, people on the street moved aside without thinking.
This seed to be a fairly common occurrence in the city, as no one thought to stop them or alert the police.
"Yeah. That's good. I don't like to waste ti with unnecessary conversations either."
"What?"
He was about to ask what the hell that ant, but Osian's fist slamd into his face.
He had to control his strength. Otherwise, his head would have exploded, not just his teeth in a storm drain.
"You bastard!"
"Die!"
All around him, the man's companions turned and charged.
Osian looked at them and unclenched his fist.
"Looks like I don't even need to draw my swords for you guys."
A one-sided scuffle ensued.
*
Osian dragged the bloodied man to stand in front of an iron gate.
"Is this it?"
"Yeah, yeah."
The man with a busted lip and broken teeth replied with a mangled pronunciation.
Osian stared at the iron gate in front of him.
A sturdy-looking gate like this in a deserted alleyway gave him the distinct impression that this was an important place.
"Well done."
-Pfft!
Osian punched him in the head, knocking him out cold.
Osian stopped himself from knocking on the door. There was no sign of life on the other side of the door so he lowered his gaze for a mont, staring at the floor.
"They're quick on their feet."
Osian muttered to himself and lifted one leg.
He slamd it down with all his might.
The ground vibrated loudly with a thump, and then it gave way.
The shattered remains of the ground trickled downward, and Osian went down with it.
*
When the ceiling suddenly collapsed, the busy people in the basent stared at the falling debris, wondering what had happened.
That included Rexler, the head of the intelligence organization here.
"Hmm. Here we are."
A man walked slowly out of the billowing smoke as he flicked the dust off the shoulders of his frock coat with his hands.
He had an uncannily calm voice and charisma.
He looked like he ca from a noble family sowhere.
His jet-black eyes were almost alien as he stared at the group with nonchalance.
‘It's him.’
Rexler had already heard the reports and recognized Osian's appearance.
The sword at his waist. A fixer from Tirna. Supposedly looking for a witch.
'But how? Surely he can't know about this secret passage.’
What's even more ridiculous is that he ca straight through the ground from the surface.
A human, not an excavator, breaking through the ground with his bare hands? How does that make sense, even for a mutant?
Around him, one by one, his n began to draw their weapons.
They asked quietly.
"How do we handle this?"
Rexler rolled his eyes.
‘Can we kill this man?’
He couldn't fight if he wanted to fight in the first place. With the number of people here, how could they avoid it?
But with the Order of Petra tracking witches in this city right now, he didn't want to do anything unnecessarily conspicuous.
"You're the boss here?"
"......."
Osian asked, his eyes fixed on Rexler.
Behind his back, his n glared at him, asking what he was going to do.
They were ready to draw their guns and fire on command.
anwhile, Osian walked slowly toward Rexler.
Rexler's eyes widened.
He had seen a vision of sothing forming behind Osian's back as he approached.
A cold sweat trickled down Rexler's cheeks as his hands clenched into fists, damp with sweat.
A monster.
He was a monster.
The mont he recognized it, Rexler's mind was quick.
"Stop moving!"
He shouted to his n and they all froze in place at the words.
Rexler turned to Ossian and asked politely.
"What do you seek?"
"If you don't know why I've co, I'll be disappointed."
"The......witch has headed for the slums south of the city. She hasn't been there long, so if you leave right now, you should be able to catch up."
A hint of satisfaction flickered across Osian's expressionless face.
Rexler tried to look relieved, but Osian's suddenly outstretched hand was t with a questioning glance.
"Why is this.......?"
"Compensation."
"What?"
"You tried to attack , and if so, you'll pay for it."
"I told you the information."
"That's the price of running away."
"I know it was my man who unilaterally acted."
"You were the one who held at gunpoint when I legitimately asked for a deal."
"......."
From the subordinate's point of view, it was loyalty, but it ca full circle.
In the end, Rexler was forced to hand over a substantial sum of money to Osian.
Osian left satisfied, and as his n watched, they approached Rexler and asked,
"Isn't that better, sir?”
"What the fuck."
"Isn't he in the city right now, too? A paladin who is said to be the most talented that the Papacy of Petra has ever seen. Why didn't you tell him about the paladin? If he's going to bump into that......."
"That's what I said. Why didn't I tell him? Of course I did. I told him to go and die."
The subordinate understood and nodded.
"He seed like a pretty strong fixer, but he’s out of luck against that monster."
"Yes, the Purification Judge, who is said to be the most talented the Order has seen in 500 years. He’s no match for him."
Rexler's mouth curled into a sneer.
"He'll surely die."
*
“Kyaha! Look at this here! Aren’t the Petra Church bastards weak?”
A topless skinhead licked his tongue.
The scrap yard biker was amused by the sight of the bloodied, cold, and mutilated priests of the Petra Church.
"Well, at least there aren't any witches here."
"Ew. Looks bad. I thought I'd found the right one, so I snuck up on her, but I was wrong."
"What are you doing? Let's move! We're going to lose this to those suits."
It was fine until they reached the city and found a group of Petra Church priests chasing sothing.
Thinking they'd win, they sneaked up on them and ambushed them, but apparently there were no witches.
"What? There's one left?"
His subordinate asked, and all the bikers' eyes turned to one side.
His outfit looked like that of a Paladin of the Order of Petra, except the robes were gray instead of white.
"Paladin? That's a different outfit."
"Never mind, just kill him. We're running out of ti."
"Ugh. I didn't put the neutralizer in for this."
The skinhead, whose muscles were bulging roughly, drooled and approached the paladin with difficulty.
On each of his shoulders were ampoules of a purple drug.
"Consider yourself out of luck, paladin. Isn't that the way it is in this world?"
His drug-enhanced body was a head taller than the paladin.
Then the paladin, his face obscured by a deeply pressed hood, asked.
"I ask you as a faithful servant. Heretic. Do you have the heart to repent?"
"Repentance? You're a laughing stock. Why would we do that, you asshole?"
The skinhead said and stretched out his hand.
Imdiately, a wave of gold swept through his hand.
Nothing remained where the gold had disappeared, not even his outstretched arm.
"Huh?"
The skinhead was puzzled. His right hand had disappeared neatly down his forearm.
It was a drug-enhanced body, too.
The paladin's harsh voice rang in his ears.
"Then this is where I purify you all."
A golden glow emanated from the paladin's body.
"Repent in death."
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