Chapter 303: Plan B

In this atmosphere of absolute deathly silence, suddenly, abruptly... came a faint sigh.

From within a carriage.

From the sixth carriage, the one Muen had forbidden anyone to approach since departure, the one that remained shrouded in mystery.

“Ah, I thought this would be an easy job, money earned for nothing?”

A helpless sigh, laced with the frustration of not being able to slack off. Then, a single hand stretched out from the carriage, pointed casually at the cracks, and gave a careless wave.

Like clean water washing away ink stains, the cracks vanished in an instant.

The world between heaven and earth regained clarity. Those who had already brushed past the edge of death were drenched in cold sweat, still unable to recover their wits.

Even Pink Bear’s gaze went slack for a moment, staring in shock at that carriage he himself had noticed nothing unusual about.

On the other side, feeling that power no weaker than his own, Indra King’s expression grew heavy.

“You ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) are...”

“What, you recognize that disgraceful fellow but don’t recognize me, your old friend?”

The curtain of the carriage was lifted, and out stepped an elderly gentleman who looked exceedingly kind and benevolent.

He wore a black suit, a black top hat, and had a flamboyant bright rose pinned to his chest.

He looked older than Indra King himself, his temples streaked with white, but his eyes were sharp and full of life.

The old gentleman looked toward Indra King, removed his hat in greeting, and with a chuckle said:

“Long time no see, Indra King. Seeing you still alive is particularly irritating, you know.”

“Vice President of the Adventurers’ Guild... no, by now you should be President, Starseer Adolf Lovis!”

Indra King’s face darkened.

“Well, isn’t this rare. You actually demean yourself by coming just to protect a snot-nosed brat? Is the Adventurers’ Guild so idle these days?”

“Relax. I’m not the overall Guild President anymore, just a branch head. I left that seat for outstanding young men.

As for why I’ve lowered myself to protect that boy—well, isn’t it the same as you?”

Adolf waggled his brows and smiled without the slightest shame:

“You can lower yourself for money to hunt down a child. Why can’t I lower myself for money to protect him? As long as the money’s enough, making money isn’t disgraceful.”

“...Reasonable.”

Those were the same two words Muen had said earlier, but coming from Indra King’s mouth now, they carried a tone of humiliation and suppressed rage.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!”

Pink Bear suddenly grabbed Muen by the neck, shaking him violently in shock:

“You’re telling me you actually stuffed a Crowned-tier into the convoy? Since when?”

“From the very start.”

Muen shook off Pink Bear’s paw with a roll of his eyes.

“I thought you knew. Even Professor Prang noticed, and you didn’t? Trash.”

“Damn it, I thought you were being all secretive because you had a cannon hidden in there. Never imagined you actually dragged in old shameless Adolf. How’d you even pull it off?”

“How else? Enough money.”

Muen sighed.

“To scrape together enough cash to hire Mr. Adolf’s help, I even sold off two of Father’s estates. Not sure if he’ll beat me when he comes back.”

“Heh. Nothing to be done. You get what you pay for. Expensive things are expensive for a reason.” Adolf’s face flushed, his smile bright; clearly this trip had lined his pockets well.

“Bah, your father’s sitting on the fertile lands of Campbell territory and a third of the Empire’s military industry. He doesn’t rely on estates for money. What are you panicking for?”

Seeing their side’s power massively reinforced, Pink Bear immediately stiffened with confidence. Wiping the blood from his mouth, he clapped his bloody hand forcefully onto Adolf’s pristine suit, booming:

“Brother Adolf, long time no see! You’re still as classy as ever. Good, good! This time, you and I together, we’ll crush that old bastard Indra King!”

“...Long time no see, Lord Oranriel.”

Seeing his suit smeared red with blood, Adolf’s eyelid twitched ever so slightly, but he still maintained a gentleman’s grace as he spoke:

“But crushing and slaughtering won’t happen. From what I know of him, he wouldn’t do something so completely pointless.”

Adolf looked at Indra King and smiled:

“Am I right, Lord Indra King? Even if you forced yourself to make a move now, you wouldn’t gain any benefit. Why not withdraw instead?”

“Reasonable.”

Once again, the same two words—but Indra King didn’t withdraw. Instead, he turned his head and looked at Muen.

“I have a question. Don’t know if you’ll answer it?”

“Mm?”

“Since you had such a backup, why did you first think only of running?” Indra King asked with a hint of curiosity.

“What, you wanted me to stay behind and drag everyone down?”

Muen frowned slightly, retreating behind Adolf, uncertain what this old monster was scheming.

“And who knows what other backups you might have. Everything must be handled with caution, don’t you think?”

“I see.”

Having received his answer, Indra King suddenly sighed with a trace of melancholy:

“No wonder they were willing to pay such a high price to hire me to kill you. Patient, cautious, innately clever... and most importantly, you have a good father and a fine engagement. For certain people, Muen Campbell, you really are enough to make them afraid.”

Amidst heaven and earth, the morning sun shone, and a faint breeze stirred, lifting the tattered hem of Indra King’s robes.

His hands were still folded, just as he had done every day through a hundred years of ascetic practice.

But Adolf’s expression instantly grew grave. He stepped forward, shouting:

“Indra King, are you insane? This isn’t like you!”

“Of course not. It seems now I indeed have no way of killing him. But... cautious ones aren’t just that boy.”

A resplendent crown rose above him. The aura of a Crowned-tier burst forth unrestrained, like a tsunami from an apocalyptic prophecy, engulfing the world.

Indra King spread his arms wide. One hand opened into a palm, striking toward Pink Bear; the other clenched into a fist, swinging at Adolf.

In an instant.

Heaven and earth shook.

The breeze became a hurricane that tore all things apart, blades of wind churning violently like countless knives.

“Holy shit, for real?”

Pink Bear cursed, raising his spiked club in a rush to defend.

On the other side, Adolf’s aura flared, shielding those behind him. His palm met Indra King’s fist evenly, not yielding an inch, though his eyes turned especially dark.

“What the hell are you trying to do, Indra King?”

“Simple. Since I can’t kill him, then I won’t.”

Facing two opponents at once, Indra King’s expression returned to calm once more:

“After all, I’m not the only one being paid. Next... comes Plan B.”

“Plan B?”

Everyone’s hearts lurched, but before they could react, a melodious song rose within the howling storm.

The voice was half lament, half confession, distant and drawn-out. At once it sounded like a love poem calling to a faraway lover, filled with melancholy, and at once like the siren’s song upon the sea, laced with an otherworldly allure.

But anyone with even the slightest touch of knowledge in magic knew what this voice meant.

Chanting.

Magical chanting.