When the plot-skips players into the game world

Dark clouds coiled outside, and a low rumble of thunder resonated.

Accompanied by a strike of lightning, the mighty Guardian, shrouded in a layer of electric light, charged forward on a Gryphon.

He asked Shafiya, the Grand Adjudicator waiting outside the house, in a deep voice, "Your Excellency Shafiya... have I arrived too late?"

"A bit,"

Yawning indifferently, Shafiya said, "But it's not a big deal. Just wait outside; there's no more room inside."

In her view, three Transcendents of the same level with a home-field advantage, ganging up on a nearly dying fifth-level Transcendent who was not fighting on his home ground, simply couldn't pose a problem.

She had made a special trip just because Meg lacked the ability for high-speed movement.

Both the Guardian and Master Yanis possessed the ability to arrive instantly at the scene. Although immensely powerful, Meg, like the Grand Justice, lacked the mystical skills to rapidly reach the battlefield.

Compared to the Grand Justice, Meg, being the strongest in Avalon, couldn't even fly. Previously, in the battlefield, Meg's ability to pause the fight for a day also relied on Shafiya's assistance.

However, Shafiya disliked showing off—she was very aware of her role as a supporter, which was to avoid letting the opposition know she was a supporter.

This time she didn't plan to intervene either, but to simply lift a finger, send Meg over, and then watch from the outside.

As long as the Bone Sculptor didn't try to escape or do something drastic, she would not interfere. Otherwise...

Just as she thought this, she keenly sensed the power of the Path growing more intense.

"...You really do like to cause me trouble," she said.

Completely reluctant to make a move, Shafiya looked disdainfully towards the inside of the house and raised her staff.

—Spell Counter.

Without the need for chanting or complex motions, Shafiya simply had to will it and a white triangular symbol, filled with a labyrinth of curved lines, suddenly lit up in front of the staff.

It emitted a sound as clear and melodious as striking a triangle, then instantly blurred, scattering into a trichromatic halo with heavy afterimages.

The massive surge of magical power that had just risen like a tsunami inside the house was flattened the moment it began to surge. It was as if you could see the waves rising, only to suddenly lose form and fall back as mere splashes.

As if everything had been an illusion.

"...You're really giving me face, huh? Or is Aiwass's face just that big?" she said.

While asking stupid questions to divert the adversary's attention and releasing spells without gestures or chanting, she was suddenly interrupted by Shafiya, the least conspicuous among them.

Coursing chaotic mana within his body and the agonizing pain made the Bone Sculptor inhale sharply, "There are only four fifth-level Transcendents loyal to the Avalon royal family, and yet all four are lurking around me now..."

Attacking Queen Sofia would not have been much different!

No, perhaps not even so many could have arrived so promptly if it had been an attack on the queen directly...

"Surrender, Master Graham,"

The earnest voice of the Guardian came with the rolling thunder from outside: "You can't escape no matter what.

"Master Yanis is familiar with the tricks of your Path of Beauty, Miss Shafiya can counter your spells, and I can catch up with you no matter how fast you run. Not to mention, you couldn't beat Miss Meg in the first place.

"If you surrender now, we can guarantee your safety. After all, reaching the fifth level isn't easy, and we need your information..."

"—Too verbose,"

Meg interrupted the Guardian's rational voice: "No need to waste so many words."

She looked at the Bone Sculptor, squinting her eyes: "You... you killed my student, didn't you?"

Her eyes resonated with the power of the Path, emitting the majestic silver-white glow and her pupils turned into cold, merciless slits.

Silver-white ethereal scales emerged on Meg's body, radiating a holographic spectrum light.

The old woman bluntly said, "Then, 'Go die once'."

The majestic power fluctuated in the void.

—In the next moment, the Bone Sculptor, without any hesitation, reversed his bone staff and plunged its tip into his own chest, piercing his heart.

The Dusk Power stored within the staff erupted suddenly. The once white and mystically sacred looking staff instantly lost its luster and turned as dirty, dull, and yellowed as an ordinary spine, disintegrating completely under the forceful thrust.

All the force within poured into the Bone Sculptor's heart, petrifying it in an instant.

Yet even with a piece of broken bone stuck in his chest and his heart turned to stone, the Bone Sculptor did not die.

His pupils suddenly became hollow, and his entire body stiff like a puppet's.

Then a stony sheen surfaced on his skin, as though what stood there was not the Bone Sculptor, but a statue he had sculpted of himself.

His steps were eerily agile; he spanned dozens of paces in an instant, whipping up a windstorm, and smashed through the second-floor wall as if it were made of tofu.

The Bone Sculptor did not retreat but advanced straight towards Shafiya.

His steps were extremely strange as if watching him would create an illusion—one would feel he was slightly further back than his actual position, about a second slower in real-time. In other words, his true location and movements were concealed.

This was an assassination technique from the Path of Adaptation!

The Bone Sculptor was very clear. If he didn't kill or repel Shafiya, who was adept at countering spells, he feared he wouldn't be able to cast even a single spell.

Whether it was the Path of Beauty or the Path of Dusk, both were purely spell-based paths. And his strongest was the Path of Beauty.

He had just tried to awaken all the statues in the city to cause chaos, but his spell had barely begun to form when it was countered.

The feeling was terribly uncomfortable—the chaotic mana roamed wildly within him, not only depriving him of the mana needed to cast spells but even causing harm to his own body.

But facing his charge, Shafiya was not panicked.

It was less about composure and more about being "without sorrow or joy."

—Ah, I knew it.

Going out always means working overtime...

The Guardian shouted, "Be careful!"

His Gryphon suddenly charged, taking him to the exact middle between Shafiya and the Bone Sculptor, intending to block the blow for her.

However, Shafiya just stood in place and shook her wand, and several silvery chains emerged from the void, tightly wrapping around the stone-encased Bone Sculptor.

—Clang! Continue your saga on empire

The chains immediately tightened, abruptly halting the charging Bone Sculptor in place.

And on the stony body of the Bone Sculptor, a layer of black halo appeared at once—it was the color of steel.

His joints cracked open, and scorching steam mixed with flames spewed out.

First, there was smoke, and then flames mixed within the smoke. In an instant, the flames stabilized into tiny blue strands of fire.

The chains were strained to their limit, and then suddenly snapped.

The Guardian, holding Philip, fended off the blow with a grunt. Philip beneath him took half a step back.

He was about to counterattack, but even more chains, dense and layered, wrapped around him. Not daring to strike and break Shafiya's control, he simply stood there with his crackling Thunder Spear.

And from behind, Meg's voice came: "[Remove Petrification], [Surrender Resistance]."

The power of Authority spread, like a dragon's roar—that was the Dragon Blood Decree, a power Meg gained from the ritual of bathing in dragon's blood.

In an instant, the tight silver chains suddenly constricted.

The enemy, who had been struggling fiercely, suddenly became powerless, and blood burst out from the gaps between the chains.

And as the chains emitted a sharp friction sound, gradually spinning—Shafiya's chains directly ground the Bone Sculptor's body to pieces!

The chains kept spinning like that for over ten seconds before finally stopping.

When they dispersed, parts of the chains had turned crimson. And in the center, the Bone Sculptor had turned into a puddle of mush.

"...Is it over?"

Holding the Thunder Spear, the Guardian cautiously asked.

"Not yet."

Yanis's voice came: "He's escaped—though not far, still nearby.

"Among all the statues he created, there is one hiding his soul backup, with one-third of his soul inside. Strictly speaking, that's not actually him—it's just a backup from a week ago..."

"Master Yanis, how should we distinguish?"

The Guardian asked seriously and politely.

Meg said irritably, "Just smash them all! The one who fights back is him—I have something else to do in a bit, so make it quick!"

"That won't be necessary, and he won't be able to fight back either. Just shatter the statues."

Yanis's cheerfully vibrant voice came: "Because I found it a week ago."

"...You knew it was him all along?"

Meg raised an eyebrow and asked the elf in the painting, "So that's why Her Majesty asked us to come and protect Aiwass tonight?"

"We always need evidence. After all, he was a major figure of the Iris Flower...and as an Elf of the Holy Nation, I cannot overtly help either side. This is an internal matter of the human race—but it's different if he comes to us," Yanis said smilingly.

She always knew much, but she didn't want to say anything. Or perhaps she couldn't say.

"So where is his statue?"

"—It's the one he made for Sofia years ago. The statue that was supposed to be placed in St. Genvieve Chapel." Yanis said so.

Meanwhile, in Isabel's bedroom.

With her teacher's reminder, she had already dressed and was waiting, very spiritedly, for Aiwass's arrival.