In the deserted fields outside the city, the old butler Finkel was running away quickly.

He had lost his hat, his meticulously combed gray hair hung in disarray, and his clothes were covered in mud.

Huh, huh... He paused for a moment, took a breath and looked back. He found that there was no one there, and he felt a little relieved.

But when he turned his head and was about to change direction, he found that a figure had appeared in front of him.

The figure was wearing a classical hooded robe, his black eyes were hidden in the shadows, and his face was dull and expressionless.

Finkel's pupils shrank, and he immediately opened his mouth, trying to pronounce a word in ancient Hermetic language, but was shocked to find that his nose was disappearing and his voice was gone.

There was a hint of despair in his expression, and then his whole body was like a stain in the void, wiped clean by a rag, leaving no trace.

…………

A-choo! A-choo! Cough! Cough!

Facing Mr. A's imminent fatal attack, Klein was sick, suffering from a headache and fever, and had difficulty controlling fire and jumping.

At this time, he couldn't even make air bombs.

The fear of unknown outcomes occupied his mind, and the premonition of danger from the "Joker" made him "see" himself suddenly split apart and disintegrated into the tiniest particles of light, perhaps without even the chance of resurrection.

In an instant, Klein reached into his pocket and grasped an object.

This was the response plan he had considered in advance for the most dangerous situation!

No matter how rushed the situation is, the "magician" will always be prepared and will not panic in battle.

Klein took out the Azik copper whistle, put it to his mouth, and blew it with difficulty amid the sounds of sneezes and coughs!

Without any prior movement, he saw through his spiritual vision that bones gushed out like a fountain, quickly forming into a huge messenger with black flames burning in its eye sockets.

At this time, the book in front of Mr. A stopped turning, and the distant sound came to an abrupt end.

A burst of green light gushed out, and the nearly four-meter-tall bone messenger suddenly cracked into countless pure points of light.

Behind it, the power that forced Klein to spin in place collapsed first, and the figure in the black double-breasted frock coat was immediately enveloped, turning into a statue made of yellow sand and blown away by the wind.

But what scattered away were white specks, like pieces of paper torn to the extreme.

Klein's figure appeared on the other side, half-kneeling on the ground, coughing loudly and uncontrollably.

If the Skeleton Messenger had not blocked him first, he would not have had enough time to suppress the disease briefly and use the paper man as a substitute!

After all this ordeal, his illness became more serious and he almost lost the ability to resist.

At this moment, Mr. A, who had failed to deliver a fatal blow, suddenly started coughing, even more violently than Klein.

He crawled down in pain, blood foam oozing from the corners of his mouth.

Cough cough cough!

He coughed up a pile of broken organs and squirming flesh, then opened his mouth with difficulty and tried to lick them into his mouth and force them back.

What's going on? Klein was confused for a moment.

But this did not prevent him from holding back his cough, raising his right hand and aiming the revolver at Mr. A's head.

At this moment, he had a vague understanding that Mr. A's physical injuries could be healed and maintained by flesh and blood magic, but the shock and backlash to his mind and spirituality could not be compensated in this way.

Mr. A should have switched to another extraordinary ability to slowly heal the wounds of the spirit body, but he was driven by hatred, forcibly suppressed it, and chased after it. As a result, after continuously consuming and using extraordinary abilities that exceeded his own capacity, the situation worsened and exploded.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Klein fired all the bullets in his revolver, and streams of brass, light gold, silver, and other lights quickly crossed the not-so-long distance between the two of them.

To his regret, he was unable to control his sneezing and coughing during the process, and not all of the bullets hit his target. Only two of them hit Mr. A, one in his forehead and one in his torso.

Sizzle!

A burning sound was heard, but Mr. A's head seemed to have no bones, just a pile of rotten flesh, allowing the light golden bullet to sink deeply into it and quickly stop, failing to cause fatal damage, and only emitting a golden light like the sun.

Mr. A raised his neck and saw the flesh and blood inside his head with a hole in it squirming wildly.

He wasn't killed, or even seriously injured.

He used to be the "Rose Bishop" with tenacious vitality!

Seeing this, Klein made a prompt decision, turned around and ran away, no longer trying to attack. Mr. A panted heavily, lowered his head again, and licked the scraps of meat and internal organs that he coughed up.

Sneezing and coughing occurred alternately, and Klein ran all over the place, rolling over from time to time.

Finally, he escaped to the edge, which was a cliff more than fifty meters high.

Below the cliff, the slightly turbid Tussock River rushes on, broad but calm.

Klein didn't hesitate. He pushed hard and jumped out.

He fell rapidly, feeling the intense sense of weightlessness that came with free fall.

His body tore through the air, trying to adjust his posture in mid-air, turning it into a standard diving action.

Cough! A-choo!

The illness caused him to stop performing a triple and a half tuck halfway, and he was unable to open his body and adjust his palms.

With a splash, he fell on the water and turned into a thin piece of white paper.

The paper figure quickly became wet and half-sunk and half-floated.

Not far away in the water, Klein’s silhouette was trembling.

His clothes were soaked, as were the remaining papers and the bills in his wallet.

After being away from Mr. A, the disease has been alleviated... Klein thought with lingering fear.

If his coughing and sneezing had not subsided a lot at the last moment, he would not even have had time to use the paper man substitute technique, and would have fallen and suffered internal bleeding, and died directly. Of course, if that was the cause of death, he felt that he could be resurrected.

As his feet kicked the water, Klein created an invisible, hollow tube in his mouth and let it extend out of the water to bring himself fresh air.

This is the "magician's" "underwater breathing" show!

Klein inhaled through his mouth and exhaled through his nose, preventing the turbid gas from polluting the pipe and allowing it to enter the water directly.

At the same time, he swam quietly towards the shore, hoping to avoid Mr. A's subsequent tracking in this way.

Unfortunately, this is not a city, and the Faceless Man's abilities cannot be effectively utilized. Otherwise, once I leave, Mr. A will definitely never find me again... While swimming, Klein instinctively had this thought.

This thought reminded him of a problem, that is, Mr. A had used the extraordinary ability of controlling the wind before.

Generally speaking, this belongs to the path of "Lord of the Storm"... In addition to wind, the characteristics of this path are water, and it is especially good at underwater activities... underwater activities... "Shepherd" is too comprehensive and too terrifying! As the thought flashed, Klein's heart almost stopped beating.

He swam up quickly, no longer hiding!

As soon as he surfaced and approached the shore, he saw Mr. A's eerily beautiful face, which was covered with fish scales and had gill openings.

Mr. A, whose bright red robe floated on the water, raised the corner of his mouth, and there was tangible hatred in his eyes.

Fight! You have to fight! Try to hold on until the church's reinforcements arrive, or Mr. Azik escapes! Klein, whose illness has eased, raised his right hand without hesitation, ready to snap his fingers.

At this moment, the two of them looked up into the air at the same time, almost as an instinctive reaction.

A feminine and graceful figure was quickly outlined there.

The figure was wearing a hood and a dark robe, and looked at Mr. A with a dull look.

Then, Klein saw that Mr. A seemed to have turned into a pencil drawing, which was quickly erased by the eraser. He had no power to resist, leaving only a look of bewilderment and unwillingness, and madness and despair engraved in the mind of the only audience member at the scene.

This… What kind of person is this! What kind of strength is this! As soon as Klein thought about it, he found that the figure turned his head and looked at him.

It was a beautiful face, but without any expression. The black eyes were dark and deep, but lacked spirituality.

Just as Klein's heart was beating wildly and he thought he would disappear silently and didn't know if he would have a chance to be resurrected, the corners of the woman's mouth slowly twitched and curled up, revealing a smile.

Smile? Klein was stunned and suspected that he was dreaming.

Before he could come to his senses, the figure faded away in an instant and disappeared on the spot. The sound of water flowing around him returned to silence.

Klein swam to the shore in confusion and climbed up. He looked around and found that this place was extremely remote. There were no roads and no living people. There was only slightly turbid river water flowing unchangingly.

Is this the end? Mr. A died just like that? Who was that lady just now? She was so strong that Mr. A didn't even have time to scream... She even smiled at me... smiled... Maybe it was Him? But apart from people at the level of the Pope, there are no angels walking on the earth in the three major churches, and people at the level of the Pope obviously wouldn't be in Backlund... Klein couldn't believe that he was out of danger just like that.

After calming down for a while, he finally found some sense of reality:

“She must be a strong person sent by the church. She arrived in time and successfully rescued me.

"If I hadn't informed Miss Justice in advance, they might not have had enough time to act. I would have most likely died at the hands of Mr. A today, and I don't know if I could be resurrected...

“Well, there is also the factor that I have persisted and delayed the battle until now.

“Not bad…”

Klein breathed a sigh of relief, coughed twice, and began to look for a way out.

…………

"exile!"

The man wearing the golden mask pointed at Azik Eggers and threw his figure into the void, to an unknown place.

Immediately, he turned around and faced Ince Zangwill, who was looking at him with a frown.

"There's no time. We can't get rid of him so quickly! We have to hide here as soon as possible. We can only exile him! Do you want the people in the church to discover our secret?" The man with the golden mask said in a deep voice angrily.

Ince Zangwill put aside his doubts, nodded, turned around and walked to the "0-08" that had stopped writing, and grabbed it.

His figure was staggering, with his feet covered with pants that were almost torn in the battle.

…………

In the Red Rose Manor, Prince Edessak sat by the French window with an unusually empty look in his eyes.

"Your Highness, please hurry up." A voice sounded beside him.

Edsak's eyes came alive. He took a breath, picked up the revolver on the table, and pressed it against his temple. There was a bullet in it that could annihilate spirits.

He turned around and looked longingly at the golf course and the horses walking outside.

Bang!

He pulled the trigger.