A pawn of the Mimicking Bird? As Mischael initially dodged the incoming dagger—a change from before, the assassin had imbued the dagger with Chaotic Power when he shifted into his ashen form.
The next second, as he dived into the fragnted shadows created by the treetops below his feet and entered the subspace, Mischael felt at least four pairs of eyes on him. The World Tree’s network divided subspace into deeper and shallower layers. Mischael moved two steps and then plunged into the lake-like subspace pathways.
Bursting out of the ground, Mischael blocked the attacking dagger with his arm and at the sa ti, heard the whooshing sound coming from behind. Without a desire to engage in combat, Mischael used his ability once more—not to enter subspace again, as the recent attack had drawn dangerous attention to his appearance. Entering that damned realm again so soon would be a highly perilous act.
This ti, Mischael turned to ash, his sandy shell shattered by a whip kick, and the leg’s owner unhesitatingly kicked the old man to death in the next second.
The ashen form reconstituted five ters away from him.
Mischael clutched at the wound in his lower back.
The gravedigger was a pitiable person seduced by Chaos, no reason was needed to kill him.
It was only now that Mischael had the chance to take a good look at his young opponent.
Black hair, and looking sowhat excited, although the eyepatch marred the young man’s facial features... wait a second... he seed to have seen this young man before.
"Colin?" Mischael asked uncertainly—because he truly couldn’t believe that the man before him was Colin.
It shouldn’t be, it couldn’t be. Colin was the youngest Bishop of the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, currently in charge of Carterburg’s large orphanage and nursery. Everyone said he had a promising future.
How could he possibly be a pawn of Chaos?
Mischael was sowhat stunned.
But the young man started to laugh. Dressed in a black suit that fit him well, he seed to have received so information, "So in this world, I am called Colin. Hoffman really needs to change this habit of picking nas randomly, otherwise he might pass it on to so child and ruin their life."
Mischael understood the implication in his words—he ca from another tiline.
Damn it, what sort of cruel facts was the thread of Fate weaving?
At that mont, Chaos seed to sense sothing. He sighed, "Sir, I can’t kill you at the mont, and your friends seem to be fast approaching. So, before I take my leave, it is necessary to reintroduce myself."
Chaos took a step back and executed a flamboyant bow, "I am Dor Kafka, a traveler who accidentally ca to this world. As for why I want to kill you, in my world, you are Cain Andre, the Lord of Carterburg. We have been rivals for a long ti. So, I am really curious why my pitiable little pawn would call you a traitor. It’s a pity, though, we don’t have more ti."
As he finished speaking, Chaos spread his arms and fell backward. When his body hit the ground and turned into a pile of ashes, a portal opened beside Mischael.
A young man clad in the robes of the Church of Justice stepped out.
He glanced at the dead body on the ground and then at Mischael, "Sir, I sensed Chaos’s presence, a formidable foe. It took a mont to pinpoint the coordinates. Sadly, he got away."
"At least you managed to save ," Mischael said and then sat down on the ground, no longer able to maintain the dignity of a noble.
The young man extended his hand and cast a Healing Spell on Mischael, finding that it didn’t have much of an effect on his wounds, which made him frown.
"I am a Sequence Six of the Ashbringer hierarchy, Embers," Mischael explained.
With that explanation, the young Church of Justice mber’s expression beca much better, "I see, then drink this potion."
Mischael took the potion, thanked him continuously, and then drank it down.
The Holy Water number six wasn’t pleasant for Mischael to ingest, but it wasn’t enough to ignite him—the lady had neutralized the Chaotic essence in his body; otherwise, Mischael would have surely died just now.
Seeing that Mischael was unhard, the mber finally smiled. He looked to the side—only then did the Mage Tower’s strike team finally enter the scene.
Soon after, everyone who was supposed to co arrived.
Mischael began to recount everything that had occurred here. Anyway, there was nothing he shouldn’t say. The Church of Justice’s lie detection prevented him from lying, but the art of language is just that.
Furthermore, when Mischael ntioned that Chaos might be Colin from another tiline, the mbers of the Mage Tower imdiately showed interest, but Mischael really couldn’t offer a clear answer (he only knew that much), so eventually, after confirming the characteristics of Chaos, Mischael was allowed to leave.
Having glanced at Colin, who had been brought over, Mischael ntally cursed his bad luck and was about to leave when he heard the young man, who claid to be Dor from the Church of Justice, say, "Mr. Mischael, I suggest you’d better not leave the inner city district of Carterburg for the ti being. That Chaos should rember you and if you stray far from the city, your situation will beco very dangerous."
"Thank you, Sir Dor," Mischael nodded and then left the scene—there was a portal leading directly to the Holy Hall of the Church of Justice, and using the shallow subspace would make this trip very safe.
.........
"Mr. Mischael seems to be alright." Watching him enter the portal, the young Church of Justice Saint Heir turned to his companion.
"Yes, being able to walk into our teleportation portal with such composure, he definitely can’t be a Chaos; otherwise, he couldn’t possibly be unaware of the story behind our Church’s portal," the old man said, turning his head to glance at Colin from the Church of the Goddess of Harvest: "That unlucky kid, who would have thought, in another tiline, he’d be a follower of the Mimicking Bird."
"Indeed," the young Saint Heir laughed with a hint of wonder, "In this world, a young, polite Bishop, yet in another world, a powerful apostle of Chaos... Speaking of which, what sort of person would I be in that tiline, that a Chaos could use my na to deceive others?" He mused, "But speaking of which, Cain Andre, my old fellow believer, being a local, have you ever heard of that surna before?"
"No, the City Lord of this city does not bear the surna Andre, so I suspect that too may be a deception by that Chaos, aid at Mr. Mischael. After all, aside from him, no one else knows the tale from that tiline," the old man shook his head, then turned to the Saint Heir: "Young Saint Heir, this concerns Sir Colin—do we need to inform Sir Malin?"
"Why not, if our concealnt leads to any undesirable outcos... I wouldn’t want to be resented for a lifeti by Sir Malin, the last descendant of the Secret Keepers’ faction in Carterburg, the branch affiliated with the Church. Knowledge is power; I have too little, while you have too much."
The old Bishop from the Church of Justice chuckled, then made arrangents for a ssenger.
After finishing his speech, the young Saint Heir turned to walk towards Colin—honestly, he really did want to take another look at the young man.
To see what exactly would lead him astray.
.........
The news that Mr. Mischael from Carterburg, a high-priority target, was confird not to be a Chaos, was relayed to the National Security Agency at the first opportunity. Zem glanced at his old friend upon hearing the news: "The cooked duck has flown away again. The Church of Justice has confird that Mr. Mischael is not a Chaos. He drank the Holy Water, underwent the Healing Spell, and even left through the Church of Justice’s portal."
"Well, it seems he really isn’t a Chaos then, but what exactly happened?" his old friend asked, squinting as he wrote a report.
After Zem explained, he heard his old friend’s exclamation: "That’s just too outrageous."
"But it’s indeed true. Lie detection confird the veracity of this intelligence, just as the Astrologers said. Our tiline is intersecting with another one, and that Chaos must have co to our world through the turbulence. Now, it’s up to the Hunting Departnt to take over."
As he said this, he noticed the quarreling noise coming from the hall’s entrance on the first floor.
He poked his head out and saw a young blonde woman arguing with their Director about sothing.
"Our Director’s new lover?" Zem’s old friend also turned his attention to the commotion.
Then they saw the girl punch their Director in the stomach.
The sight of their Director clutching his belly, his eyes nearly popping out of his head, followed.
"That’s so fake," Zem’s old friend said scornfully.
Then they saw the girl move behind their Director, wrap her arms around his waist, lean back, and slam him hard onto the marble floor.
"Really, that’s too fake, shaless," Zem spat.
.........
Anna set down her teacup, turning her head towards the direction of the eastern part of the city where a peak of spiritual energy had just occurred.
"Lena, where did our Golden Dragon girl go today?" she asked her companion, who was cleaning the hall.
"She went to the National Security Agency in the eastern district. I told her if those dragons from her holand want to survive in the Capital, they must get their ID, and since she’s quite special, only the National Security Agency could handle it for her."
"Then it’s over; that silly girl might have started a fight with their Director," Anna sighed, picking up her teacup as a little maid imdiately refilled her tea.
"Are you talking about that hefty guy who can tear Spirits apart with his bare hands?" Lena turned to ask.
"This ti he might be the one getting torn apart," Anna remarked with a sigh, feeling once again the peak of spiritual energy.
Lena seed to sense sothing as she opened the window just in ti to see a large figure riding the wind towards them.
"Ma’am, good afternoon," he said as he quickly vanished on the other side.
"How long will he keep flying?" Lena turned to ask her lady.
"...Who knows," Anna replied after taking a sip of tea: "Let’s hope that dragon girl realizes that not many humans can take a beating like the Director can."
"How about Malin?" Lena asked.
Anna turned to glance at her old friend: "Dear, can you confirm who’s hitting who?"
Her Head Maid stuck out her tongue, then dutifully went back to cleaning.
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