Chapter 1 An Icy Start

The port district of Blierda in winter: a biting wind mixed with drizzling snow.

Snow covered the scattered shipping containers, and heavy clouds cast a shadow over this gray zone hidden in a corner of the city.

"Damn it!!"

Within this steel maze of containers and narrow alleyways, a tall figure was running.

At that moment, Maguire was doing everything he could to evade the Imperial Special Operations agents who were relentlessly pursuing him.

Maguire was athletic and moved as nimbly as a leopard. He wore a light gray winter coat stolen after his jailbreak the previous night, an outfit that allowed him to blend into the surroundings on this cold winter day, making him difficult to spot.

He weaved between the containers, sometimes climbing to higher ground, sometimes disappearing into the shadows.

Maguire still didn't know why his house contained a rubbing of Professor Landry's research document. He had simply been caught red-handed by Nikola the Kestrel, along with the elite of the Countermeasures Section.

Now he increasingly suspected that Dex was the one who had framed him!

No matter how he explained it to Nikola the Kestrel, that lackey wouldn't listen. He didn't believe Dex was a mole at all, only wanting to bring Maguire to justice.

Maguire cursed inwardly.

He turned a corner in the deep alley and caught a glimpse of several black shadows rapidly approaching him. He could hear their heavy breathing and the crunch of boots on snow in the frigid wind.

His pursuers were the Countermeasures Section elite of the Imperial Special Operations.

Maguire knew how difficult these well-trained Imperial Special Operations elites were to deal with.

They wore dark blue tactical uniforms and were equipped with the most advanced magical devices from the Imperial Weapons Department.

Leading them was a tall squad leader with a close-cropped haircut.

"Search carefully! Director Dex has ordered that Maguire be captured today, no matter what, and not be allowed to disrupt the Moon God Festival."

The squad leader issued orders through his communication magic card while giving chase.

His voice was hoarse but authoritative, echoing through the desolate port.

Following the squad leader's orders, the agents began searching the factory area systematically.

They were familiar with Maguire's characteristics, and Commander Nikola the Kestrel had already discerned Maguire's hiding routes. If Maguire dared to make a move, they would immediately surround and kill him.

Although Maguire, that wily fox, could always slip through their fingers whenever he was cornered by relying on his superb counter-reconnaissance skills and clever use of the environment, Maguire's path was becoming narrower and narrower, leading toward a dead end.

"..."

Maguire's figure hugged the crumbling steel frame before disappearing into the narrow gaps between the containers.

His eyes constantly scanned his surroundings, looking for any available cover and escape routes.

Loose snow flew up beneath his feet, but he maintained his balance, moving like the wind through this treacherous steel jungle.

The wind howled throughout the dock, and the rust-colored containers looked increasingly sinister under the dim sky, punctuated by the occasional mournful caw of a crow.

Several minutes later.

Maguire finally managed to shake off the pursuing squad of agents temporarily and hid in a narrow, deep corner of an alley.

He leaned against a mottled brick wall, his strong body like a wolf hiding from hunters.

"The reinforcements... why haven't the reinforcements arrived yet..."

Maguire gritted his teeth, suppressing the anxiety in his heart.

It wasn't surprising that the vampires couldn't support him during the daytime, but he had received word that vampire partners would meet him.

He quickly scanned his surroundings, looking for his next escape route.

Using the faint morning light, he analyzed the surrounding environment.

Towering abandoned buildings stood like silent giants, with intricate pipes connecting to form a web of conduits stretching across the sky, winding between the buildings.

Maguire's gaze finally settled on a small path leading to the harbor in the distance. The path was flanked by dilapidated, rusted containers, entwined with withered vines, and was almost the last remaining path offering any hope.

However, his intuition told him that heading in that direction was also dangerous.

There might already be a cordon set up by Imperial agents.

But if he didn't move, he would soon be cornered here.

As time passed, the encirclement would only tighten.

Judging from the scale of the pursuit and the agents' determination, they were determined to capture him today, regardless of the cost.

Maguire forced himself to calm down.

As a squad leader, rational thinking was often more important than blind action in times of crisis.

As long as he escaped and went to Blood Moon City, he would eventually have a chance to bring down Duke Dex and Nikola the Kestrel and make a comeback!

Having made up his mind, Maguire quietly rose and disappeared into the unknown path like a flash of light gray lightning.

As soon as he moved, sure enough, the footsteps of the agents behind him gradually approached, dogging his heels.

Just as Maguire was planning a new escape route in his mind, a sharp whistling sound suddenly rang out.

A new type of military-standard ammunition made of anti-magic steel grazed his ear, struck the container behind him, and sent up a cloud of rust, followed by a crack.

"Damn it, Nikola brought out this new equipment."

Maguire cursed under his breath, instinctively dodging to the side and narrowly avoiding the second shot.

It seemed that the agents had discovered his whereabouts and were lying in ambush on top of the containers.

With his amazing reaction speed and agility, Maguire dodged left and right amidst the sniping.

Maguire knew that he had to hide from the sniper's line of sight and find cover.

He suddenly lunged toward a row of dilapidated containers, smashed open the heavy doors, and darted between them.

With a screech of metal grinding, Maguire dove inside a container, barely dodging another round of Imperial agents' sniper fire.

Maguire exhaled, leaning against the cold container wall, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

Deeper in the alley, several figures wearing Imperial Special Operations combat suits quickly followed.

The short-haired squad leader took a cold look around and issued orders to his communicator.

"Commander Nikola, requesting support. Second Squad, all units, the target has moved to Sector Four. Repeat, the target has moved to Sector Four. Sniper team, take your positions immediately, capture him at all costs."

The sounds of weapons and footsteps intertwined, sounding particularly jarring on this quiet winter festival morning.

The citizens of Blierda were unaware of the fierce battle taking place in the gray zone of the port district.

Maguire's superhuman physical abilities made him so fast that he was difficult to catch with the naked eye, and his escape was unexpected.

Instead of continuing to break through to the outer edges of the port district, he ran without hesitation toward the bustling central district of the city.

"Is he crazy? That guy is running into the downtown area!"

The squad leader was taken aback when he saw Maguire's route, but he quickly understood his intentions.

If he caused a riot in the downtown area, not only would the mission be a failure, but they themselves would likely be severely punished.

"We must stop him before he enters the downtown area!"

The agents responded by urgently increasing their speed.

Maguire, however, knew the area like the back of his hand. He deftly weaved through the tangled alleys and high-rise buildings, climbed old fire escapes, and passed through narrow culverts.

Boom!

Several muffled explosions reverberated, and a thick cloud of smoke instantly engulfed the alley. The blast sent bricks and tiles falling from the walls, and the snow on the ground was blown away, drawing white arcs in the air.

The sudden increase in firepower caught Maguire off guard, and he was hit hard, rolling several times on the ground to dissipate the force.

He raised his head warily.

"Nikola..."

Maguire crouched in the shadows of a container, his chest heaving, and white mist escaping from between his clenched teeth.

He looked around, and a dozen agents from the Countermeasures Section had surrounded him.

The squads had finally joined forces.

"Maguire, let's make this easy and come back with me, or do you want to suffer here?"

Nikola the Kestrel, the leader, stepped out from behind the group. The brim of his hat was still pulled low, and the magic weapon [Blazing Light] shimmered with a cold metallic glow on his arm.

He raised his hand to signal the agents beside him, ready to open fire and suppress Maguire at any moment.

"Heh..."

Maguire's laughter was his response.

"You damn lowlifes, you have no idea what you're fighting against!"

Power roared within him, and his excited nerves were ignited by a hope called survival.

The next second, fire erupted between the containers!

Maguire suddenly launched an attack, pouncing on Nikola like a hunting dog, wanting to kill him as quickly as possible.

Nikola had no intention of taking the attack head-on. He took a step back, and the unit's magic barrier opened.

The remaining elite agents joined the fray. Imperial standard magic devices deployed around the containers, forming a large, light blue crystalline net that completely blocked Maguire's offensive.

An invisible pressure field enveloped him, and Maguire immediately felt as if his limbs were bound by invisible shackles, slowing his movements.

"You even brought out the [Gravity Field]?!"

Maguire roared at Nikola.

"You have no chance."

As Nikola spoke, agents with magic mechanical dolls hovering around him quietly deployed the [Optical Maze], and dazzling magic projections filled Maguire's vision, making it impossible for him to distinguish between reality and illusion.

The figures of the agent unit flickered in and out of the light and shadow, making it impossible for Maguire to grasp their positions.

A sense of anxiety filled Maguire's heart.

Before he could think of a countermeasure, the combatant on top of the container high above, holding a mechanical heavy cannon, clasped his hands together, and light wings rapidly expanded in the recesses of the heavy cannon.

The glow of the cannon's muzzle was like a divine weapon descending from the sky, carrying the force of ten thousand tons, smashing down on Maguire's head!

The sound of the impact resounded throughout the port, shaking the earth, and thunder echoed between the containers.

Dust rose everywhere, and gravel flew.

A large pit several meters in diameter suddenly appeared in the center of the battlefield.

The bottom of the pit was muddy, and the scorched earth emitting steam almost completely submerged Maguire's figure.

"..."

Nikola the Kestrel did not relax his vigilance in the slightest, his eyes like those of a hawk fixed on its prey.

Maguire slowly stood up in the pit.

His jacket was torn to shreds, but he was hardly seriously injured, and his eyes were brighter than ever, as if they were about to burst into flames.

Nikola knew that Maguire, at Tier 7, could not be fatally injured so quickly, and that a long battle was still needed to wear down his life to the point where he could be captured.

Fires occasionally burst into the sky in the factory area of the Blierda Mafia, illuminating the dim sky.

According to the treaty with the military, if a criminal entered the Blierda Mafia's territory, the Blierda Mafia would not interfere with the military's mission.

Although the gray zones outside the capital city-state's barrier were a legacy of history, after the pacification and reconciliation following the "Bloody Day" many years ago, these were now neutral zones chartered by the Krytian Empire.

"Nikola, I will definitely kill you!!"

Maguire fought unyieldingly under the heavy siege of the magic agents.

As time passed, he became more and more frustrated.

Nikola the Kestrel and his agents worked together seamlessly, and their layered defenses increasingly restricted Maguire's movements, making it difficult for him to parry and counterattack.

Maguire gritted his teeth, trying to find a breakthrough, but wherever he looked, he saw only the black muzzles of the combatants' cannons and the barriers deployed by the magic devices.

A silver light flashed, disappearing into the ranks of agents besieging Maguire in the blink of an eye.

Before anyone could react, this strange liquid metal was like a released beast, rampaging through the Countermeasures Section.

Piercing screams rose and fell, and blood splattered on the iron walls of the containers.

The attacked agents were like cakes that had been bitten into, their bodies and lower limbs suddenly disappearing, leaving only incomplete torsos, devoid of life.

The remaining agents who reacted were only slightly injured at best.

"Defense, take cover!"

Nikola the Kestrel shouted sternly, his expression horrified.

The agents quickly retreated, distancing themselves from the terrifying silver liquid, and took up defensive positions.

Magic devices shimmered ominously in the agents' hands, illuminating the bloody arena.

Maguire was equally shocked, but soon turned to laughter.

Footsteps came from the other end of the containers.

Looking over, he saw a figure in silver-white robes walking slowly, followed by several similarly dressed high priests.

He stood there, raising a finger with one hand, controlling the silver alchemical beast, wearing a pure white robe, like a sacred and evil statue. That pure white was not a symbol of purity, but a nearly morbid pallor, like the color of death.

He wore black jade beads around his neck, which seemed to be alive, swaying gently on his chest and making a soft clinking sound. In his hand was a silver staff, the body of which was like the spine of a snake, coiling upwards, and at the top was a raven with its wings spread.

The hem of the leading figure's robe trailed behind him, drawing a long line in the snow.

"Nikola, do you feel it? This chill is the harbinger of your demise today."

He spoke, his voice low and pleasant, like the sound of a midnight bell, with a hint of bewitchment.

"I heard you've been looking for me, so I've come to see you today."

With the appearance of this group, the air became viscous and heavy, and even breathing carried a hint of acid rain.

The Imperial Special Operations combatants instinctively sensed danger. The squad leader's combat goggles displayed the identification information of the silver liquid life form—

[Rotting Splitting Beast]

[Category: Summon Card]

[Grade: Orange Epic]

[Attribute: Alchemy/Corrosion]

[Tier: 7]

[Effect: Immune to 90% physical attacks, contact attacks and being attacked cause a devouring effect, splitting into new small individuals, lasts 1 hour.]

[Note: Merge with me and be reborn.]

"Montilio, the Rotting Saint..."

The squad leader's pupils shrank, and his face was terribly grim.

As a subordinate of the Countermeasures Section who followed Nikola in investigating the recent murders, he was very familiar with this guy.

The Resurrection Church cult, a notorious outlaw on the wanted list for a long time, had brazenly approached them on the day of the Moon God Festival.

"So you were all colluding together."

Nikola the Kestrel looked at this scene, his icy pupils mixed with anger.

He had been chasing the Rotting Branch for a long time, and their goal was obviously more than just revenge on the Imperial Special Operations.

What the Rotting Branch really wanted to do today was to rescue Maguire and slaughter them in passing.

"Kestrel, are you happy to see me?"

Montilio, the Rotting Saint, grinned, his lips stretched into an almost unnatural arc.

With a pale wave of his finger, the silver liquid on the ground immediately gathered and writhed, spitting out a split body the size of half a person, with the face of the combatant who had just been devoured.

"Don't resist, obey. Enter the embrace of death and gain eternal peace."

Montilio opened his arms, revealing a half-smiling expression.

The high priests behind him were also ready to annihilate the Countermeasures Section.

"..."

Nikola the Kestrel did not panic, slowly surveying his surroundings. The scars and fatigue left by the battle were clearly visible.

"The decision is not yours to make."

Nikola said coldly, and the elite magic agents took up a defensive formation, aiming their weapons at the Resurrection Church's crazed followers.

Maguire's fate was irrelevant at this moment.

Protecting the dignity of the Empire and crushing the source of the conspiracy were the top priorities.

"Maguire, get up."

Montilio, the Rotting Saint, gave an order, and the silver alchemical beast ran toward the Imperial agents.

"Finally here."

Maguire wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, stood up, and smiled at Nikola the Kestrel.

However arrogant these guys were, they would be all the more desperate later.

What a pity that these Countermeasures Section agents wouldn't even have a chance to witness the true terror that the Empire was now facing.

Blind loyalty would only lead them to die in ignorance!

The sounds of heavy weapons erupted, and smoke filled the air.

The entire dock was in chaos.

With Montilio's addition, the battle situation had changed dramatically.

This spiritual leader of the cult seemed to have brought the fires of hell, igniting the zeal of the Resurrection Church's followers.

They roared, raised the weapons in their hands, and pounced on the Imperial agents like a pack of bloodthirsty beasts.

"Prioritize maintaining the gravity field, don't be greedy for the lives of the Rotting High Priests, keep an eye on those two Tier 7s first!"

Nikola the Kestrel gritted his teeth and directed his men to meet the enemy.

Faced with the large number of Rotting High Priests and their frenzied attacks, the Imperial agents quickly found themselves in a difficult battle.

This was not the most deadly thing. The most dangerous thing was undoubtedly that Montilio the Rotting Saint and his silver alchemical beast were too powerful when facing weaker enemies. Once a reduction in personnel was caused, the momentum would begin to topple from this gap, quickly causing his alchemical beast to split into more individuals and completely crush the formation.

Nikola the Kestrel looked at the acidic mist rising from the ground of the port.

The corrosive magic of Montilio the Rotting Saint's main body was also all large-scale, and even the magic barrier was difficult to completely block.

Montilio waved the staff in his hand, and light green miasma burst out like poisonous snakes, corroding and distorting even the air wherever it passed.

The agents' defense line gradually began to cough up blood painfully in this corrosive mist.

"You guys enjoyed beating me, the squad leader, didn't you!"

The change in the situation gave Maguire an opportunity to take advantage of.

Taking advantage of the agents being attacked from both sides, Maguire suddenly launched an attack.

His steel-like fist struck the nearest agent, and with the sound of bones breaking, the figure flew out and crashed into a container.

"Fill the gap."

Nikola the Kestrel knew something was wrong, but he had no time to manage anything else and could only direct the combatants to fill the line.

"Nikola, did you ever think you'd have this day?"

Maguire smiled sinisterly, a look of vengeful pleasure flashing in his eyes.

"Small man..."

Nikola the Kestrel didn't want to pay attention to him.

What he had to do now was find a way to break through.

If there was anyone who could help them now, it would only be Barton, the leader deep within the Blierda Mafia.

As strong as Barton Hall, the former commander of the Imperial Guard, might be, he could change the situation, but Barton had already broken with the military and would no longer interfere in their conflicts.

"You wouldn't expect the neutral Mafia to intervene and help you, would you?"

Montilio, the Rotting Saint, sneered, and magic turned into a large net, as a tide of corrosion smashed down on Nikola's head.

A dilemma.

Nikola the Kestrel knew that he would only be courting death if he continued to fight head-on.

He gritted his teeth and made a decision.

"Everyone retreat! Regroup!"

Nikola the Kestrel signaled the surviving agents to evacuate the battlefield as soon as possible, break through to the city, and restore communication signals.

As long as they entered the city, they could call for help, and even if they could not be rescued, it might be possible to trap these cultists in the gray zone and finally destroy these lawbreakers.

"Don't be in such a hurry to leave."

Montilio chuckled, and more mist and瘴 gas spewed out of his staff, chasing after the scattering agents.

Many agents were still hit, and the poisonous mist corroded their bodies. They soon began to slow down and were caught up by the Rotting High Priests, beginning new entanglements.

"Nikola, even a god can't save you."

Maguire approached, his face full of sarcasm, enjoying a good show.

He had been besieged for so long, and now he could finally come to Nikola without being obstructed.

"..."

Nikola the Kestrel gritted his teeth, remaining silent.

He still had a few bottom-line magic items, and even if he couldn't pose a real threat to Maguire, he would fight to the end.

Giving up was impossible.

Maguire raised his fist.

He was about to deliver a fatal blow to Nikola.

Suddenly, he felt a gust of wind behind him!

The next second, Maguire felt his world spin, and he flew out like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily into a container.

The container cracked in response, collapsing like dominoes, smashing one pit after another into the ground.

"Who is it?"

Montilio also stopped, looking warily at the uninvited guest.

Amidst the dissipating smoke, a black-clothed man stood quietly on the Mafia's alleyway.

"I see, I've caught up."

The man hung up the special communication device for the Blierda Mafia's restricted area in his hand, not knowing who he was communicating with.

He stared at Montilio the Rotting Saint and Maguire, his face hidden in the shadows against the morning light, with only a pair of ice-blue eyes glowing brightly in the snowy weather.

"Barton...?"

Nikola's eyes widened, looking at the figure in disbelief.

This dangerous figure in Blierda—

The leader of the Blierda Mafia.

In Blierda, he was the Blierda Underworld Emperor who made smugglers tremble and the police avoid him.

Why did he break the rules and come to help him, an agent?

"I'll explain later."

Barton didn't turn his head to look at Nikola; he didn't need to let the enemies hear their conversation.

He just walked over slowly, the soft sound of metal rubbing against metal reaching everyone's ears.

It was the light sound of the various knives and other weapons hanging at his waist, their cold light looming in the wind and snow.

Gradually, the shadow on Barton finally faded, allowing people to see his dark gray hair and ruthless eyes.

He wore a pure black trench coat and robe, tied with a brown leather belt, with a black shirt and vest underneath, and dark red patterns rolled around the cuffs and hem, allowing him to ignore the terrain and cross any obstacles.

That black cloak and coat were probably full of specially made magic vibrating knives.

Before he could finish speaking, the figure of the Mafia boss Barton was already infinitely magnified in the eyes of the enemy.

In the next frame of the perspective, Barton was close to Montilio the Rotting Saint, with no sound or preamble to his actions.

Barton struck, so fast that it dazzled people. He didn't even draw a weapon, relying entirely on his combat experience to hold down Montilio the Rotting Saint's staff and Maguire's fist.

Barton crossed his hands, drawing a cross in front of him with two small knives, which was replaced by a burst of sharp sword energy, intersecting in the air and slashing towards the chests of the two.

A deafening metallic collision resounded through the port, shaking the earth.

Maguire and Montilio flew out at the same time, plowing two long ravines into the ground, leaving countless cracks in the concrete surface.

And Barton stood still, surrounded by faint blade shadows, cutting even the snowflakes into distinct sections.

"You shouldn't have taken action..."

Montilio, the Rotting Saint, supported himself with his staff, tentatively using a shield to defend against the slash just now.

Maguire was obviously not as composed as Montilio.

He already had a hideous knife wound on his body.

Maguire didn't have time to rest, and counterattacked with all his strength. His fist was as fast as lightning, almost drawing afterimages in the air as he bombarded Barton.

Barton and Maguire clashed again between the containers, each clash accompanied by the loud sound of containers being cut off, sounding particularly jarring in the quiet winter festival outside.

Not far away, the face of Montilio the Rotting Saint was as gloomy as water.

His gaze was now coldly fixed on Nikola, and eerie green magic gathered in his hand into a swirling vortex, emitting the aura of rotting blood.

"..."

A warning bell rang in Nikola's heart. He could see that the target of Montilio the Rotting Saint was only himself.

The Rotting High Priests, who had been fighting fiercely with the Imperial agents, were also gradually gathering towards Montilio.

Regardless of casualties, they surrounded the agents layer by layer, cutting off support for Nikola!

As long as Nikola, the commander, was beheaded, the combat power of the Imperial Special Operations elite would be greatly reduced.

"Maguire, stall Barton for me. Everyone else, cover me while I kill that Imperial lackey!"

Montilio, the Rotting Saint, issued instructions.

The Mafia boss Barton was indeed too strong.

But it didn't matter; his real goal was to kill Commander Nikola.

The Mafia boss Barton would never be able to hold them both alone.

"Okay!"

Maguire responded, full of resentment.

Barton would have been doing well just to backstab Nikola.

The Blierda Mafia had absolutely no reason to help Nikola, an agent leader!

Maguire frantically launched an intercepting attack on Barton, each punch carrying the force of wind and thunder, threatening to engulf Barton's figure.

At the same time, the Rotting High Priests swarmed up and suppressed the agents, buying time for Montilio to kill Nikola.

"..."

In a desperate moment, Barton glanced expressionlessly at the situation on Nikola's side, raised his arm and drew a semicircle in the air, and dozens of sharp blades flew out of his cloak.

Wherever the blades passed, the containers were cut in half.

The rusty steel plates collapsed like tofu, falling to the ground with a crash.

Maguire was also cut and wounded all over by the blade, covered in blood!

Barton, in the midst of the battle, threw out a string of flying blades, forcing back Maguire and Montilio, the Rotting Saint, in the distance, while at the same time, a crystal card mixed among them flew towards Nikola.

Nikola the Kestrel steadily caught the Mafia's crystal key.

The two briefly exchanged glances, and Nikola instantly understood Barton's meaning.

With it, Nikola could enter the Mafia headquarters, the Hasel Port Building.

In the core area with the restricted barrier, Nikola could better avoid the enemy's pursuit.

Nikola the Kestrel had no time to hesitate and immediately changed direction, running towards the Hasel Port Building.

Staying here would not be of much help to Barton, but if he started running, there was still hope that he could lure Montilio the Rotting Saint away, allowing Barton to gain an advantage and protect his men.

In any case, he now had to trust Barton's instructions.

"Want to run? Not so easy!"

Montilio the Rotting Saint sneered, moving like the wind and chasing after him like a shadow.

Barton, while parrying Maguire's attacks, threw out three spinning blades, accurately locking onto Montilio.

Montilio groaned, his footsteps stopping, and he could only dodge the three magic blades that would track him, and finally let the silver alchemical beast protect him, turning into metal armor and blocking the blades.

"Barton... just wait for your Mafia to be swept away by us."

Montilio was determined to kill, but he knew that now was not the time to fight Barton head-on.

Seeing Nikola the Kestrel's figure getting farther and farther away, Montilio chased after him without hesitation.

Nikola weaved through the maze of containers, trying his best to shake off the Grim Reaper behind him.

Montilio the Rotting Saint pursued relentlessly, the corrosive blood magic turning into fierce beasts that rampaged between the containers, penetrating and scattering the steel wherever they passed.

In a brief ten seconds or so, the container area had become a hell, full of ruins.

Until Montilio the Rotting Saint stood on a container, a cold wind whipping his silver robe.

He stood motionless, his eyes, the eyes of the Grim Reaper, searching for his prey in this forest of steel.

The location of their previous battle was indeed not far from the square area where the Mafia headquarters, the Hasel Port Building, was located, so Barton was able to rush over so quickly, and Nikola's speed was not slow either, being an Imperial assassin known for his agility.

"Nikola, you're like a trembling rabbit, trying to hide from the hunter."

Montilio the Rotting Saint spoke, his voice terrifyingly calm, but with a hint of chilling pleasure.

Usually, it was Nikola the Kestrel who was investigating their Rotting Branch.

Now the roles were reversed.

He was both happy and full of resentment.

"Do you think you can escape my pursuit by hiding behind these broken scrap metal?"

Montilio the Rotting Saint walked forward slowly, his leather boots crunching on the wreckage.

Wherever his corrosive gas reached, the steel turned to dust, and the containers collapsed with a crash.

Although releasing such a wide range of indiscriminate attacks would consume a lot of magic power and the damage would not be so deadly.

But if Nikola was stalling him, he would always give out and come out of his hole like a rat.

The silver liquid alchemical beast was also wantonly crashing and destroying things, searching for Nikola the Kestrel.

"Nikola, the game is over. This square is your end."

Montilio the Rotting Saint slowly raised his staff, pointing to the faintly visible Hasel Port Building in the distance.

The building towered into the clouds, looking particularly solemn and majestic in the wind and snow, like a distant salvation.

He certainly knew Nikola's plan.

Taking the Mafia boss's crystal key to the headquarters, the Hasel Port Building, might lead to some change.

But that distance was a chasm for Nikola, and Montilio the Rotting Saint would not let Nikola run to the Mafia's headquarters, the Hasel Port Building, to call for help from the Imperial Special Operations.

"No need to hide anymore. I'll take care of you before Barton finishes off Maguire."

Montilio the Rotting Saint counted the time without even lowering his head.

Maguire, this Tier 7 warrior, had a life force that was not ordinary strong. Even if he didn't expect Maguire to defeat Barton, Barton shouldn't expect to bypass Maguire too quickly.

Just waiting made him a little restless.

Nikola the Kestrel's struggles only made him laugh.

If his [Rotting Splitting Beast] could split more, it should be able to force Nikola out faster.

It was a pity that there weren't even any Mafia patrols today.

If the Mafia had any cannon fodder, it would be good to have the alchemical beast devour and transform them, splitting off new alchemical life forms to track Nikola.

Or Barton didn't let his men come out to die.

It was impossible to find a few living human materials to make art statues.

Since coming to Blierda, Montilio had been very patient. Looking at those happy families but being unable to turn them into more beautiful things, his heart felt empty.

"People are born to rot, only making them into works of art can make them eternal, why don't you all understand me, and even put the hat of a lawbreaker on me..."

The voice of Montilio the Rotting Saint was full of murderous intent towards Nikola, who he was impatiently waiting to kill.

The opportunity to hold a feast at will could not be found at all, only a good dish like Nikola could alleviate his hunger.

The sound of stepping on snow rang out.

Immediately attracting the attention of Montilio the Rotting Saint.

He looked towards the Mafia's Hasel Port Building.

"..."

Montilio gradually frowned.

Two youths who seemed to have lost their way were coming out of the Hasel Port Building, like ordinary citizens who had strayed into the Mafia's hinterland.

Their walking posture was a bit arrogant.

One was walking with one hand in his pocket, leaning back and waving his arm.

One was walking with both hands in his pockets, hunching over and looking at the ground.

They seemed to be trying to play the role of two Mafia members.

"I'm really working with the feeling of going to a grave today. I hope no one who doesn't know what's good for them comes to provoke me."

"Serving the people, helping others, loving what we do, being dedicated and proficient in our work, because we are good."

They paid no attention to Montilio, the Rotting Saint, in the distance.

"..."

Montilio narrowed his eyes.

Did these two consider this to be their own living room?

Very good.

Two noobs had come to deliver heads.

"You two are the ones I've decided on."

Montilio grinned and walked towards the two.