Chapter 357 170: Plane Crash (Part 2)

The instant they heard the blond-haired young man shout to run, they all withdrew their Magic Power and sprinted away, not even bothering to maintain their Invisibility.

For a moment, figures kept popping out of the darkness, one after another, most of them running in the same direction.

There's always a sense of security in a crowd.

But as they ran, they started to realize something was wrong.

"Shit, why is the plane following us?!"

One of them cried out in terror.

His words made the blond-haired young man and the man in the suit instinctively glance back at the sky. The plane, which should have crashed on the runway behind them based on its diving speed, was now right above their heads. The sight terrified them so much their legs went weak.

"Holy shit!"

"It's fucking tracking us?!"

A bullet tracking a target was understandable—some Magic could do that. But a plane that follows people as it crashes? What the hell kind of maneuver was this?

"Saiyubolana... Credy!"

The Escape Curse.

Empowered by the High-tier Magic Spell, the blond-haired young man and his group ran even faster.

But to their despair, no matter how they ran, the plane—engulfed in flames, burned beyond recognition, and looking like it might explode at any second—remained right above them. They couldn't shake it.

"What fucking brand is this plane? Why is it so goddamn weird?!"

The blond-haired young man was on the verge of a breakdown.

Anyone who's had a near-death experience knows the most terrifying thing isn't death itself. It's the final seconds when you know you're about to die, where every moment is torture, feeling longer than a lifetime.

They ran for a full ten minutes, from one end of the runway to the other.

As if tired of the game, the plane finally crashed to the ground, exploding with a deafening BOOM right behind them.

The violent explosion sent out a searing shockwave, instantly flinging the hundred or so Wizards, led by the man in the suit and the blond-haired young man, through the air. They tumbled across the ground, and those with weaker Magic Power were sent smashing through glass and blasted directly into the terminal building.

At that moment, the tarmac was filled with screams of agony.

"AHH!"

"OH!"

"MOM!"

"Dammit..."

Listening to his companions' wails, his body wracked with pain, the blond-haired young man staggered to his feet. He first helped his leader up, then turned and roared at the others, "Get up! All of you!"

"We need a body, dead or alive...! *Ptui!*"

He spat on the ground and said fiercely, "Put out the fire! Search!"

There was a reason he was the leader of a hundred elite Witch Hunters. Even now, he hadn't forgotten the mission Miss Bofunova had given them.

"Boss, hang in there. I'll get you to the emergency room," the blond-haired young man said, gritting his teeth against the pain.

He hadn't forgotten to look out for his superior, either.

But the man in the suit didn't answer. He was staring intently at the ground by the young man's feet.

His stare made the blond-haired young man's skin crawl. "What is it, Boss? Don't scare me..."

'Please don't tell me the boss got his brain scrambled by the blast. People will die!'

The man in the suit said, "You just spat on the ground, didn't you?"

The blond-haired young man: "...Is there a problem?"

The man in the suit: "No manners!"

The blond-haired young man: "...?"

The man in the suit: "And no blood!"

That was the crucial part.

Most Wizards have fragile bodies, and High-tier Wizards are no exception.

After such a violent explosion, he felt like his own internal organs had been turned to pulp. The blond-haired young man had been shielding him and should have been hurt even worse. Yet, the saliva he'd spat out was clear. There was no blood, let alone the bits of viscera he would have expected.

The blond-haired young man froze. He now realized it wasn't just his spit that was bloodless.

He looked down at his open hands—there was no blood on his body, either.

Nor was there any on his boss.

But a massive plane had crashed less than ten meters behind them. At that distance, it was a miracle they were even alive. How could they possibly have not shed a single drop of blood?

"W-wait!"

"This is... an illusion?!"

The blond-haired young man snapped his head up.

The next second,

the scene before his eyes shattered like a mirror struck by a heavy blow, splintering into a thousand pieces.

What reappeared in his vision was the undamaged runway 02R and the safely landed KT-3 aircraft.

Along with a dozen or so faces standing before them—unfamiliar, yet familiar.

Unfamiliar, because they had never met.

Familiar, because they had seen pictures of them.

"Sean?!"

The blond-haired young man was aghast.

Sean offered a polite, elegant smile. "Hello, Blondie."

The blond-haired young man: "?"

'No, I'm not good!'

'Not good at all!'

Seeing the malicious smiles on the faces of Elise and the others, the blond-haired young man's heart sank.

'It's over. We fell into a trap.'

'But why...'

'This is our home turf.'

'We were the ones who set up the Magic Array.'

'So why did we end up being the ones caught in Sean's Illusion Magic?!'

A large bead of sweat trickled down the blond-haired young man's forehead, glistening in the dark.

Just then, Sopea took a step forward, lifted his chin, and sneered, "What gives you the right to ambush us?"

'They couldn't even tell I jumped from the plane early to pull them all into a dreamscape,' he thought contemptuously. 'And they think they can lay a trap for me? For Lord Blake?'

He noticed the insignia on the blond-haired young man's chest and let out a series of cold laughs.

"The Kovloki Family?"

"Weren't you all supposed to be so capable?"

"How have you regressed so badly? You can't even handle a simple airport reception?"

The blond-haired young man's face flushed crimson, but he couldn't find a single word to say in rebuttal.

After all, the facts were laid bare before them.

Everything that had just happened was an illusion.

The reality was that the pilot had coordinated with the tower for a safe landing. The tower had repeatedly urged them through their headsets, "They're off the plane! Move, move now!" But they had stood there completely unresponsive, as if they hadn't heard a thing. The tower staff were just ordinary people; they couldn't charge into the fray themselves. They could only watch helplessly as Sean and his group picked them off one by one.

By the time the dream shattered, the only two left standing were the blond-haired young man and the man in the suit.

In this confrontation, it was safe to say they had lost utterly and completely.

They were all taken down before they even saw their opponents' faces.

It left the blond-haired young man so red-faced he had no idea how to even begin to defend himself.

Sean, however, sensed there was a story behind Sopea's taunts. "Have you dealt with them before?" he asked.

"Yes." Sopea nodded, a flicker of pain and killing intent in his eyes. "The Kovloki Family. Their master, Bofunova, once led a team to Krim State to participate in the siege against the Long Night Union... Do you know why the Night Watcher always keeps his eyes closed when he talks?"

"People who don't know the full story just assume the old man is too arrogant to bother opening his eyes to look at them."

"But the truth is... he can't."

"And it's all thanks to Bofunova."

Sean had never imagined that was the reason the Night Watcher kept his eyes closed. He turned to the blond-haired young man, his previously amicable expression instantly turning glacial. A cold, murderous glint flashed in his eyes. "So, we really have come to the right place, haven't we?"

The Night Watcher was one of his people from the Hall of Truth.

He was one of his most trusted subordinates.

If that weren't the case, he wouldn't have been assigned to guard the library with its countless volumes.

Though the Night Watcher in this life didn't seem to care for him, that was only because the man didn't know his true identity, and there were reasons for his behavior. Sean had never truly taken it to heart, treating it as a bit of a game between them. But even if he had been offended, his people were not for others to harm.

A person's eyes are their most precious asset.

This was especially true for the people of the Hall of Truth, who relied on their eyes to read and acquire knowledge. The Night Watcher was the librarian; his world revolved around books. Reading was etched into his very being. Yet Bofunova had destroyed his eyes... Sean couldn't even imagine how the Night Watcher had endured all these years.

He had originally thought the airport ambush, while not trivial, wasn't a capital offense. If the family in Sonaros State had been sensible, he wouldn't have minded turning their leader into another Pulente, making them work for the Holy Sanctuary.

Now, he'd changed his mind.

Everything else could wait.

First, he would make that woman, Bofunova, give his Night Watcher his eyes back!

...