Bill raised his hand.
The heavy bronze doors slowly swung open.
The hinges let out a piercing screech as dust trickled down from the edges of the door frame.
He stepped into the darkness.
Behind him, the corpse knights silently dispersed.
The eleven knights acted in coordination, surrounding the entire Opera House.
Three knights guarded the main entrance.
Four knights climbed to the high windows on both sides.
The remaining four knights circled toward the back door and the escape routes.
There were no words, only the sound of boots stepping over rubble.
Within a minute, the encirclement of the entire building was complete.
The knight in the form of a death scout floated above the porch.
It raised both hands, fingers splayed.
Ten fine black threads shot out from its fingertips.
The black threads intertwined in the air, spreading across the entire building.
They wrapped around window lattices.
They sealed the door crevices.
They adhered to the gaps in the outer walls, plugging every possible exit.
Half a minute later.
The entire Opera House was wrapped in a layer of translucent black thread web.
Through the death scout's eye sockets, Modo looked at this web.
The black threads were woven from battle force and demon energy; they were tough and served as sensors.
Any contact would instantly trigger an alarm.
No matter how strong the opponent's concealment magic was, it was impossible to pass through these meshes without touching physical matter.
And once touched, they could lock onto the opponent through the position of the breach.
The High-tier Transcendent knight controlled by Modo walked slowly to Bill's side.
The hollow eye sockets gazed into the darkness deep within the theater.
“He is still inside.”
“He has not moved.”
Bill raised an eyebrow.
“Waiting to die?”
He smiled.
“Then let us grant his wish.”
The two exchanged a glance, confirming that the opponent could not escape.
Simultaneously, they stepped through the theater doors.
Moonlight shone from behind, casting two shadows before them.
The interior of the theater was even more dilapidated than imagined.
The dome had mostly collapsed, and moonlight poured down from the cracks.
Rows of seats were decayed and slumped, giving off a pungent smell of mold.
Only half of the curtain remained on the stage, hanging from the crossbar.
Accumulated dust and fallen leaves were everywhere.
Bill paused slightly.
A strange smell permeated the air.
He took a light sniff.
His brow furrowed slightly.
“...Pollen?”
Modo looked at him.
“What?”
Bill raised his hand and made a grasping motion in the air.
He opened his palm.
Under the moonlight, fine powder was faintly visible.
“It is pollen.”
“And it is saturated with mana.”
“A Mid Rank Wood-element spell, Pollen.”
Modo scanned the surroundings.
Only then did he notice that fine powder was floating everywhere inside the theater.
On the seats, on the steps, on the fragments of the curtain.
Every surface was covered in a thin layer.
More pollen was suspended in the air, drifting slowly with the air currents.
The strange thing was that this pollen had not accumulated naturally.
They were supported by extremely tiny air currents, slowly and evenly drifting throughout the entire space.
Modo reached out to touch the air currents around him.
The wind held trace amounts of mana.
Bill sensed for a moment.
“A Mid Rank spell, Breeze Barrier.”
He pointed toward the dry air around them.
“And, a Mid Rank spell, Drying.”
Modo was silent for a few seconds.
“What kind of damage will they cause?”
Bill was stunned for a moment.
Then, he laughed.
The laughter echoed through the hollow theater.
“Damage?”
He pointed at the pollen drifting through the sky.
“Pollen—to make flowers bloom more brilliantly.”
“Breeze Barrier—to make the wind blow more softly.”
“Drying—to make the environment drier.”
He paused.
His smile deepened.
“What damage could these three spells possibly cause?”
“This is an insult to magic.”
“These are little tricks performed by busking bards on the streets.”
“To make little girls clap happily.”
“To add a bit of romantic atmosphere to a theater.”
He looked around and spread his arms.
“Is he using these because he wants to give me a farewell performance?”
Modo did not speak.
He simply gazed into the depths of the darkness.
In his perception, those two figures were still quietly staying toward the stage.
Motionless.
As if waiting for them.
Bill and Modo crossed the rows of decayed seats.
Boot heels stepped on the dust, leaving clear footprints.
Pollen rose slowly at their feet, then drifted away with the wind.
The stage drew closer.
Moonlight poured from the cracks in the dome, illuminating the thing ahead.
A flying vessel.
The object floated quietly above the stage, about two meters off the ground.
Its design was extremely peculiar.
A narrow, long hull covered in icicle-like metal wing-fins.
At the rear were two thick, short copper tubes, their openings facing backward.
The bow pointed toward the theater entrance, which was the direction they were facing.
Its orientation was pointed outward.
As if ready to flee at any moment.
Two people sat on the flying vessel.
The black-haired young mage was wearing a worn, old mage robe.
His face was terrifyingly pale, and his lips were devoid of color.
He was nervously looking around in all directions.
His gaze swept across the pollen-filled air and through the dark corners.
Like a hunted beast, searching for a final way out.
Beside him sat the woman with short pale-gold hair.
Her purple eyes were downcast, and her face was equally pale.
The two sat very close together.
Bill looked at that pale face and those restless, alert eyes.
He suddenly laughed.
“Yo.”
He drawled.
“This is the mage Jesse was wary of?”
He stepped onto the stage, pacing around the flying vessel.
“A face as pale as a dead man.”
“Eyes as panicked as a stray dog chased through three streets.”
He stopped before Lin Gui, tilting his head.
“What, are you afraid?”
Lin Gui retracted his gaze from the pollen.
He turned toward Bill, then glanced at the silent corpse knight behind him.
He nodded.
“Yeah, I’m really scared.”
His voice was flat.
“Scared to death.”
He pointed at the flying vessel beneath him, which was facing the exit.
“See, I’ve prepared to run away.”
Bill looked at him.
On that pale face, the expression was remarkably calm.
There was no trembling of fear.
There was no forced composure.
It was just... indifference.
As if he were stating a fact that had nothing to do with him.
Bill’s smile stiffened for a split second.
This attitude.
It was more irritating than any provocation.
Modo’s voice came from behind:
“Take him first.”
He paused.
“Something is strange here.”
Before his voice had finished falling.
Bill moved.
His figure transformed into a blood shadow, lunging straight for Lin Gui on the flying vessel!
The knight controlled by Modo activated in sync.
A heavy sword was unsheathed, flanking from the other side!
The two were like two bolts of black lightning.
Their distance from the flying vessel was...
Ten meters.
Five meters.
Three meters.
Lin Gui raised his hand.
His thumb and ring finger rubbed together lightly.
At his fingertips, mana surged.
Bill’s pupils constricted abruptly.
It was coming.
The magic the opponent truly intended to use against them.
What kind of attack would it be?
Legendary-rank wide-area destruction?
Or some kind of curse-type instant-death magic?
His blood mist had already condensed into a shield, prepared to endure the hit.
Then.
He saw it.
A tiny, extremely thin arc of electric light surged from Lin Gui’s fingertip.
Crack.
It was so weak that it was almost inaudible.
Bill was stunned.
Modo was stunned.
This was... an Electric Spark?
A Novice Magic spell?
The kind street children used to play with to light a campfire?
A massive sense of disparity rose in their hearts simultaneously.
Confusion.
Absurdity.
And, an inexplicable fear.
Because they did not understand.
The opponent had arranged so many magical setups.
He had lured them here.
How could he...
Only use this?
There was no time for them to understand.
With a gentle flick, the electric light at Lin Gui’s fingertip drifted out.
That tiny Electric Spark floated into the pollen-filled air.
In the next moment.
Their vision was completely lit up.
Rate on N.U.
