Chapter 283: You Gaze at Ashe, the Watcher Gazes at You
"Good evening. I've come to upload your Sorcerer's Handbook to the Virtual World!"
Maynard was still reeling from the irritation of the Psychic Scream, but at this moment, a slight smirk curled the corner of his mouth. So, they plan to eliminate us first? Sensible. Commanding intelligent mechanical units required on-site visual control, making the operators the most glaring vulnerability in any drone-based strategy. But... that obvious weakness also made for a perfect trap.
He tapped the ground lightly with his toe, and the concrete floor burst apart. Countless spikes erupted upward, surging like wild vines as they lunged at the enemy.
As a victim of Sorcerer Duel 14, Maynard had specialized in earth sorcery since childhood. As a child, he dreamed of dating someone like the Earth Empress. Only after entering the workforce did reality settle in. Construction sites were brutal places, and Earth Class sorceresses simply did not exist there.
Still, his talent had never been limited to earth sorcery alone. He earned himself a place in the Good Moonlight Agency, where he specialized in urban combat. To a man whose life once consisted only of laying bricks, the city's steel jungle offered an endless supply of weapons.
During the earlier drone swarm, Maynard had already prepared the framework for his Miracle. Earth Class Miracles that reshaped terrain required long casting times, making them useless in emergencies. But a skilled sorcerer could complete most of the ritual in advance; all that remained was to choose the perfect moment to trigger the technique.
While some might label such a strategy with the dignified term pre-calculation, it was little more than a deadly lure, a calculated setup meant to snare and kill.
"Hmph."
Faced with the forest of spikes, Ashe showed neither fear nor excitement. Iger's mental enhancer sharpened his focus, but more than that, it was his own experience through countless battles that had hardened his mind.
Fighting alongside prodigies like the Swordswoman and the Witch had left its mark. Though he still preferred to let others take the lead, something within him had fundamentally shifted. The office worker who had transmigrated just a month ago was dead. Gunfire, Miracles, and death. By now, he handled them all with the cold efficiency of a daily routine. The brutal life he was forced to lead, and the powerful women surrounding him, had forged him into this.
The Honeyed Tongue Sword swept forward. A net of sword-light spread through the air, shredding every incoming spike.
Ashe used no Miracles. Instead, he simply infused his strikes with the spirits of Slash, Swordheart, and Sword Scar. Drawing on the shared experience of the Swordswoman, his technique had reached a level where he could tear through the trap with raw skill alone.
Seeing Ashe land gracefully, Maynard and Lyman both stepped back, preparing to bury him under a barrage of concrete and drone fire. To them, the age of blades had long since passed; a lone swordsman had no place here.
Then, Ashe lifted his head. The moment they saw him clearly, both agents froze. Their hearts pounded violently.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
In their vision, the man in the dark red coat began to distort. His silhouette blurred like ink dissolving into water, with the air dancing and shimmering around him. Light itself seemed to sing in his presence, and even the cold concrete walls appeared to bow toward him.
It felt as though a key had been turned deep within their genetic code, triggering a violent resonance. A foreign memory pried open their skulls, flooding their minds and tearing through their logic.
He walked across the heavens, trailed by the twilight chaos of an eternal dusk. Before him, the sun and moon fled in exhaustion. To his left, a shroud of hail and rain; to his right, the roar of earthquakes and the spiral of storms.
He walked upon the earth, riding a carriage forged of bone. Each step turned fertile land to wasteland; every city he passed crumbled into ruin. Corpses paved his path, and the world grew foul, twisted into something monstrous.
He walked upon the sea, aboard a vessel woven of nails. He sounded the horn of the end, and the black oceans followed him inland, swallowing civilizations and crushing the works of man, while the living wept and the heavens remained silent.
Blood and bone. Crimson corruption and collapsing towers. Filthy toys left in the wreckage. Charred corpses and cold crematoriums. Hands reaching from the soil; the slow, rusted rot of all things...
One apocalyptic vision after another flashed through Maynard and Lyman's minds.
Before they could even process the overwhelming flood of information, Ashe's sword was already there to bid them a final farewell.
"You—"
As they looked at Ashe again, the image of the man walking through the apocalypse overlapped with him completely. It was as if the black sea, the mountain of corpses, and the eternal dusk itself stood at his back. He had arrived, bearing the end of the world.
An indescribable terror seized their throats, crushed their lungs, and clenched their hearts.
Earth sorcery, drones, none of it mattered anymore. All that remained was a primal instinct to escape. Run! Get out now!
Clang!
Ashe showed no mercy toward their terror. In a flash, he severed Lyman's throat with his sword.
He had tracked her movements from the moment he arrived. From her gestures and the sharp focus of her gaze, he had marked her as the one directing the machines, the tactical lynchpin of the battle. By taking her out, he had dismantled their entire offense in a single stroke.
Blood surged from the wound, as if desperate to flee its panicked host. As suffocating terror crushed her consciousness, Lyman's eyes rolled back, and she fainted on the spot.
Even as his companion's throat was carved open, Maynard offered no resistance. He didn't even reach for a weapon. Instead, he lunged for Lyman, hauled her limp body onto a hovering car parked outside the balcony, and kicked the engine into a roar, vanishing in a desperate, full-speed retreat.
Ta-ta-ta-ta...
With the sorcerers no longer controlling the battlefield, the drones plummeted from the sky, emitting weak, dying chirps like broken cicadas.
The group exchanged glances and quickly realized something was odd. No one was missing. In the chaos, there had even been an additional girl, Alice, who appeared among them. Harvey quickly returned her to the coffin so she could continue her sleep.
"They escaped? What are the casualties?" Annan asked. A flash of purple light flickered in her palm as her submachine gun dissolved, transforming back into a crystal earring that dangled from her ear.
"The man is fine. The woman had her throat cut, but she'll likely recover," Ashe said thoughtfully. "They suddenly became terrified for some reason... Is it because I'm a swordsman? Are they that rare here?"
Iger wiped cold sweat from his forehead, his face pale as he forced a weak smile. "Is 'Swordsman' some kind of untouchable outcasts in this world?"
"Whatever the reason, good job!" Annan's voice carried a spark of excitement. "Lyman is down. This is our chance to get to the hovering car. Pankey!"
"On it!"
A large hovering car drifted up to the edge of the shattered balcony. As the automatic doors hissed open, it finally hit Ashe and the others that they were truly about to be on the run again. Because of the urgency, they didn't even have time to pack. Ashe was still wearing slippers. Annan had it worse. She was still dressed in her pajamas.
Ashe said, "Our luggage—"
Annan cut him off. "We don't have time for that!
Harvey's expression darkened. "Wait. What about my coffin? It's my most essential equipment."
That was the one glaring flaw of the heavy casket; it was an absolute nightmare to transport in a hurry.
"Leave that to me, Mr. Harvey," Pankey said easily.
Pankey stepped forward with a standard suitcase. He clicked it open, stuffed the massive coffin inside, snapped the lid shut, and hoisted it with one hand. "Alright. Let's move."
"...?"
"...???"
Hang on. Was it just me, or did that look completely wrong?
Everyone cast a fleeting glance at the suitcase, but survival instinct had already established a ruthless dictatorship over their minds. Curiosity held no authority here. Ignoring the urge to linger, they piled into the hovering vehicle.
As the car descended and began to skim the pavement, the collective tension finally eased, if only by a fraction. There was a grim comfort in being grounded; even if the car exploded now, they'd face fire and shrapnel rather than the whistling terror of a free fall.
"Where to next?" Iger asked, his voice tight. "If an agency is willing to strike openly in the heart of the city, it means they've stopped caring about the law."
"Then we'll make them care," Annan countered. "We're heading to the Red Hats. They're Azura's heavy hitters. As long as we're law-abiding citizens, we can claim special protection. No matter how bold the Good Moonlight Agency thinks they are, they won't risk total annihilation by picking a fight with the Red Hats."
Ashe spoke up. "I've been wondering for a while... why are they called the Good Moonlight Agency?"
The young butler explained darkly, "Because the name suggests 'Happiness and Full Moon, but their contracts usually end with families torn apart and lives destroyed. They don't normally move this brazenly. Their talent for hijacking intelligent machinery gives them a thousand ways to kill without ever alerting the Book of Gospel."
"And you trust the Red Hats?" Harvey asked, his voice dripping with his usual disdain for authority. "What's to stop them from just sitting down and brokering a 'big deal' with the Good Moonlight Agency instead of protecting us?"
Annan said firmly, "The Red Hats are the most law-abiding people. Any slight misconduct is immediately reflected in their ranking. As long as we don't break the law, they are our best protection. Besides, I'm friends with the Weeping Sand, Cliose—"
Suddenly, the air in the car changed. Without a touch, everyone's Book of Gospel snapped open in unison, pages fluttering wildly until they all landed on the same entry.
[WANTED NOTICE]
Name: Ashe Heath
Bounty: 500,000 points (alive) / 100,000 points (dead)
Witnesses may report to the Red Hats. Rewards will be issued based on the value of the information.
Issuer: Imperial Red Hat Headquarters. Signed by: Ivor Higgins.
Ashe's page was the only one that looked slightly different.
- Azura Red Hats Golden Eagle Street Branch: ...
- Azura Red Hats Sea Soul Street Branch: ...
- Azura Red Hats Bear Wolf Street Branch: ...
Damn, are they trying to make me surrender?
Lys murmured, "Annan... you just mentioned Cliose..."
Annan replied, "Yes. Cliose is my friend. She's already sending me indirect messages through the Curtain asking where I am. To boost her ranking, she would absolutely sell us out.
"Fortunately, the Book of Gospel has already recognized you as citizens. Even the imperial family cannot use it to locate you. At least in this game of cat-and-mouse, everyone starts from the same line."
Ashe pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed. "So, let me get this straight. We're being hunted by a black-market agency and the lawful Red Hats? I didn't even get this kind of treatment back in Blood Moon. In movies, characters like us usually don't make it to the credits, do they?"
"There are exceptions," Iger deadpanned. "The producers, for instance."
In that moment, Iger's dry sarcasm was the warmest comfort the night had to offer.