Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 048
Chapter Title: Those Four Words: "I Was Wrong"
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At those words, Cashi from the support team clutched her head as if it were aching.
"Only calling for support now..."
She let out a small sigh.
It had been just thirty minutes since they escaped the Black Forest and reconnected comms with the rapid response team, only to hear the shocking news.
"What did the team leader say?!"
The truth was none other than that the support team leader had tried to lure Kyle and the entire response team into a trap to kill them.
"......"
Cashi asked, eyeing the informant's crazed state that screamed anything but sane.
"What the hell did you do to him?"
"......?"
Jim Gordon, listening in from the support team, narrowed his eyes.
"Hold on, did you just say Leverk?"
"Leverk? Now that you mention it, it rings a bell..."
"You don't know? One of the Magic Tower's mage families. One of the Five Founding Houses!"
"Ah...!"
But something felt off.
"Why would a Magic Tower mage family get involved in..."
"How should I know?"
Jim Gordon's expression hardened.
"No choice but to hear the details straight from the team leader."
He turned to another support team member.
"Track the team leader's location right now."
"What about access permissions?"
"Force it with emergency protocol! I'll contact the division chief separately!"
"Should we request backup from Response Teams 2 and 3?"
At that moment, a raspy voice pierced their ears.
"...!"
It was none other than the Mafia Butcher.
And that was how the current situation had come about.
Someone asked in an uneasy voice,
"But is it okay to move this fast?"
"This might actually be for the best."
Jim Gordon twirled the pen in his hand as he spoke.
"Think about the team leader's experience in intel. Calling for support and looping in more channels could just tip them off and give them a chance to escape."
Even so, no one would expect the support team leader to move right after an op.
"The problem now is the Butcher himself."
A convict like him wasn't supposed to act outside his assigned mission.
"But we can spin this as an extension of the mission..."
She glanced at him, and Jim nodded before contacting someone.
"Good. Get the cleanup team ready now."
"Request cooperation from the police too!"
"It's the 8th Special District anyway."
Jim Gordon wagged his finger.
"Disguising things there is practically a non-issue compared to other districts."
Cashi shouted,
"What are you waiting for? Move!"
"The Butcher's coming? What the hell does that mean?!"
"I-I don't know. I have no idea what's going on...!"
Anton Leverk's face twisted at Samuel's response.
'Did they fail or something?'
And not only that—they seemed to have uncovered the full aftermath already.
'How the...!'
Had he somehow survived endless waves of those monsters?
And even sniffed out all the hidden assassins?
It was too unbelievable.
Samuel yelled at him,
"Ah, Anton! We need to get out of here right now!"
Anton shouted back,
"Go where exactly?!"
Failure was intolerable to him.
No matter what, the Mafia Butcher had to die today.
He drew up his mana and said,
"This works out fine actually."
"What?"
'I don't know how the Butcher survived.'
But he couldn't be in perfect shape either.
"If it's come to this, I can just kill him with my own hands, right?"
"What?"
"Team leader, have you forgotten?"
He wasn't direct lineage, but still.
"I'm from the Magic Tower too."
'Damn it!'
As Anton deployed his ritual, Samuel cursed inwardly and drew the pistol from his waist.
They glared at the room's entrance.
The tension stretched on until breaths themselves went silent.
Then—thud!—a sudden sound echoed from somewhere.
"...?"
"What was that?"
As the two raised their heads and scanned around, it came again: thud!
Anton Leverk flinched.
"Where the hell..."
The whole room seemed to vibrate.
Their eyes turned to the door.
'Not the door.'
Then to the massive sash windows at the back.
'Not outside either... Wait.'
Samuel glanced down at the floor, a chill creeping up from his toes. He muttered without thinking,
"Holy shi—!"
In that instant, a massive bolt erupted from beneath: KABOOM!!
The sheer power literally shattered the concrete floor, turning the room into instant chaos.
And from the crater leaped a black silhouette.
"Crazy...!"
Bang! Bang bang!
Startled, Samuel fired late, but it was useless.
Kyle, now behind him, grabbed Samuel's nape and cast a spell.
"Aaaaaargh!!!"
The glasses-wearing man charred black in seconds.
At that moment, Kyle instinctively dodged concrete shards charging through the dust cloud.
KABOOM—!!
And at the end stood a robed man.
"New face."
Kyle asked,
"Who are you?"
Anton muttered,
"So it's true."
Drawing up mana again, he said,
"...No ritual process visible."
Kyle narrowed his eyes.
"You from the Magic Tower?"
Until now, only Fleetwood from the Tower had rambled about rituals.
"...And if I am?"
Kyle's mind raced at the answer.
Samuel Miller, conspiring with a Magic Tower mage.
The thought hit, and the room's air turned icy.
"You."
Kyle tossed Samuel aside carelessly, his gaze flashing coldly.
"You're Leverk, aren't you?"
"...!!"
Anton twitched slightly but smirked.
"Ha, so what if I am...!"
A five-fold ritual unfolded instantly.
Green mana lit the room as he roared,
"Butcher!"
A massive gust exploded outward.
Shatter shatter crash...!
Thick windows shattered in a blink.
The storm poured out like a waterfall, stunning the waiting cleanup team below.
"Wh-what the hell?!"
"Support team!"
Their eyes trembled at the unnatural sight.
"Something's wrong! Something's gone wrong!"
Jim Gordon yelled over comms,
"Put the drone feed on the main screen now!"
"Bringing it up!!"
The situation flashed onto the ops room's main monitor.
"What... is that."
Cashi swallowed dryly, muttering,
"Magic?"
Then—BOOM—!!—the building's exterior spewed dust explosively.
The support team gaped.
"Insane..."
The mad gust had ripped off the ceiling and the building's upper section entirely.
Lane, watching from the floor below, went pale.
"What the fu...!"
"Ahahahahaha!!"
Anton, at the gust's epicenter, burst into laughter.
He'd levitated hundreds of tons of concrete skyward and taunted Kyle,
"Come on, Butcher. Let's see that fancy magic of yours..."
The chunks aligned as if targeting Kyle.
"Block this!"
As the massive shadow hurtled toward him,
"What."
Kyle smirked.
"You're a wind mage?"
Then it happened.
"...!"
Incredibly, the hundreds of tons halted above his head.
"!!"
"?!"
"Huh!?"
People gasped in disbelief.
Even Anton Leverk, mid-cast, was stunned.
"Wha...!"
His wind ignored him; eyes wide, he poured in more mana.
"What the—why won't it...!"
But the airborne concrete didn't budge.
He couldn't hide his shock.
It felt like his magic—his wind—no longer obeyed him.
Anton yelled,
"What did you do?!"
"Nothing much."
Since Anton was a wind mage,
"Feel the Wind"
Wind atop the wind. Learn to speak with the wind and commune with it. Then you will become friends with the wind. Friends never harm friends.
"Your magic just doesn't work on me."
And as long as Kyle Clark communed with the ancient winds,
'Ordinary winds can't hurt me.'
"What does that...!!"
'My magic doesn't work on him?'
Anton's eyes shook rapidly.
'Did he hijack it...!'
My magic?
'To some heretic mage not even from the Tower?'
It was natural for Leverk to be shocked.
In mage battles, having your ritual hacked and stolen proved an insurmountable gap.
That's why heretics could never beat Tower mages.
Their crude rituals could be undone at a glance by Tower folk.
An uncrossable chasm for any mage.
Yet a Tower mage like him had his ritual stolen...
A thought flashed through Anton's mind.
'No way.'
He swallowed hard.
'The godfather's failure wasn't a botched ritual...'
His eyes widened in horror.
'What if the Butcher stole the ritual itself?'
Staring at the now fully hijacked concrete mass, his eyes filled with hollow laughter.
"N-no. No way. It can't be. Really?"
Regardless, only one person could usurp even forbidden curses.
'The Founder... a true mage...'
The massive shadow realigned toward him.
Kyle said,
"My turn now."
"...!"
"Let's see if you..."
He grinned.
"Can block this, Leverk."
As the enormous concrete plummeted, Anton muttered blankly,
"What the fu...!"
Crack—KABOOOOOM—!!!
2nd Administrative District.
Rodgersmirium Relic Exhibition Hall.
A gathering of political and business elites to admire ancient artifacts and network.
In a private room deep within, two old men sat facing each other.
Simon Marshall, the councilman, and Walter Leverk.
Leverk, glass in hand, spoke first.
"By the way, how's everything going? I heard there was a pesky issue."
Marshall chuckled.
"Should be resolved soon, I think."
"Oh, excellent. That's a relief."
"Indeed. Especially at a time like this."
He asked Walter,
"Speaking of, how's the Tower situation?"
Marshall caressed his teacup and continued,
"As you know, disrupting and delaying the 8th District's project is key, but even more crucial is the next Tower Lord position."
Smiling, he pressed,
"We can't have it slip from Leverk hands, or things get messy. Don't forget that."
"No worries there."
Walter chuckled.
"The next Fleetwood is spineless, unfit to lead the Tower. The current Sage is brilliant, but that only highlights the gap."
Sipping his tea, he went on,
"Most elders already doubt the next Fleetwood. Kill the Sage at the right moment, and the Lordship falls to Leverk naturally."
"Wonderful news."
Marshall smirked.
"With the Tower on board, it'll be a huge boost."
"The new era demands the Tower evolve too... right?"
"Haha, you bet."
Emptying his cup, Walter checked the time and excused himself.
"Mind if I step out briefly? Need to make a call. Won't take long."
"Of course. Take your time."
Smiling as he exited, Walter's face hardened instantly. He extended a hand.
A waiting mage handed him a phone swiftly.
"Still no contact?"
"No. Not yet..."
"What the hell is Anton doing? I told him to report periodically."
Powering on the phone, Walter dialed.
Ring, ring.
After four or five rings, his expression soured—then connected.
"What took so long? No reports? How'd it go?"
That unfamiliar voice froze Walter stiff.
"You bastard...!"
Recognizing the voice, he spat through a twisted face,
"What did you do to Anton?"
"You little...!"
Amid the crumbled concrete debris, Kyle faced the fierce night wind and said,
"Wasn't gonna ask. Anyway..."
Like with the mafia.
"It's gotta be some lame reason, right?"
Pointless, pathetic excuses that wouldn't convince anyone.
"So I'll give you one last chance."
"Simple. Just apologize honestly."
I'm sorry.
I won't do it again.
I won't cause any more trouble.
"Do that, and I'll stop here. Deal?"
Silence followed.
Only the 8th District's cold gusts whispered past.
Laughter erupted from the speaker.
"......"
Leverk's eyes bloodshot red.
"Ha."
Kyle scoffed.
"Figures."
Like the mafia, apologies were beyond them.
Walter Leverk roared,
"Hey, old man."
His expression chilled.
"I gave you a chance."
Who was it that said: Repay favors, double the grudges.
And Leverk had just chosen to become his enemy.
"This war started with you."
He didn't care about their motives anymore.
From now on, anything Leverk planned or touched, he'd smash on sight.
"See you soon."
Click. The call ended, and Walter Leverk's face trembled with rage.
"You...!"
Mana surged, crack!—shattering the phone in his grip.
"You...!! You bastard...!!"
"H-house head?"
"Butcheeeeeer!!"
He stomped the flung phone repeatedly, gnashing his teeth in a guttural roar.
Meanwhile, in a warehouse deep in the exhibition hall.
Senior Aide Max Eidinger stood before a heavily sealed box, face flushed with excitement.
"Open it."
"Yes."
Black-suited men carefully broke the seal.
The lid creaked open.
A chilling, eerie aura seeped out.
"Ooh..."
Inside lay a magic sword imbued with the Wraith King's grudge.
The legendary blade that severed souls, not flesh. Max felt chills down his spine.
"...Think this can kill even a Bearwolf?"
"Of course."
Despite its cracks and age, its noble presence drew a smirk.
"No matter how tough the body, the soul is beyond them."
And as far as he knew, nothing could regenerate a severed soul.
"Heh, nothing in this world."
Lifting the sword, Max's eyes gleamed.
"No such absurd thing exists."