Swish, swish, swish—
Seeing that the enemy had lost the ability to resist, Patricia sent down a few more slashes with her sword.
But this ti, her attacks were all delivered by smashing.
After several flashes of silver light, the defense spells shattered completely, and Patricia’s sword blade rested precisely on the enemy’s neck.
"..."
The Caster from the Nine Commandnts barely regained consciousness.
He looked up to see a plain longsword without any distinguishable features pressed against his neck, its chill almost palpable against his skin.
"Cold Strike Blade..."
"Were you well-prepared, even bringing sothing like this?"
Patricia showed no intention of answering.
Her tone was even as she said,
"Tell everything you know, and I promise you won’t die."
"..."
"Won’t die?" the Caster from the Nine Commandnts forced an ugly smile, "If it weren’t for your despicable surprise attack, do you think you could have captured this easily?"
"Don’t be so arrogant, Nicholas!"
Patricia simply pushed the blade forward slightly, piercing the skin on his neck:
"You have already lost."
"..."
The harsh reality and the girl’s judgnt sunk in, causing the Caster’s eyes to change imdiately.
"I’ve lost, indeed I have."
"If I confess everything now, after the original text is seized, soone worthless like could naturally be locked away in the investigator’s prison, and then spend the rest of my life with those ignorant fools..."
"Do you think that’s possible?"
Toward the end, the Caster’s tone suddenly changed.
With an air of indifference to life or death, he sharply lifted his neck, directly letting Patricia’s sword make a cut on himself.
Clatter—
Afterward, the Caster’s body fell to the ground.
Due to being cornered by Patricia previously, his body, now gradually losing life, curled up like a crumpled rag, and only a broken voice could be heard:
"Damned trash..."
"Dream on..."
Patricia looked at the man beneath her, her expression unchanged.
With a flick of her sword to shake off the blood, she turned crisply towards Ronald:
"Ronald, the intelligence is from your side..."
"Careful!"
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, Ronald let out a warning.
Patricia sensed sothing unusual behind her.
She quickly turned around, preparing to swing her sword, but as she was about to act, a powerful force pulled Patricia in front of Ronald.
"Go—"
He uttered the single syllable that communicated his intention.
Almost at the sa ti, the pure white wings of the "Chariot of God" extended from behind Ronald. With his left hand, he held a prisoner controlled by the power of "Fury", and with his right, he grabbed Patricia, then leaped high into the air, breaking through the factory roof and flying toward the sky.
And below them, the factory began to exude a twisting Magic Fluctuation.
That original text holder of the Nine Commandnts.
As he took his last breath, he activated the trial of his original text with the last of his consciousness!
This final struggle before death was completely uncontrollable.
The trial area expanded gradually, and in about a dozen seconds, the entire factory would be engulfed.
"Run!"
At that mont, Ronald found a mont to issue the command.
Seeing a few ordinary people being steered out of the danger zone at the factory entrance, he then moved positions with his companions, landing on the ground.
"I’m sorry, it was my negligence," Patricia imdiately admitted her mistake upon landing.
Patricia was well aware that the root of the enemy’s desperate struggle was her own lack of ruthlessness.
"It’s fine, at least our source of intelligence is still intact."
Ronald comforted Patricia, his gaze still fixed on the factory.
Such a large disturbance of magic fluctuations had instantly alerted the investigator responsible for the area. With the festival approaching, the three of them sent signals to contact their comrades while rushing toward the factory to take control of the situation.
Ronald entertained the idea of retrieving the grimoire.
But now, entering the trial, the potential dangers aside, the unpredictable loss of ti was a concern he could not accept.
Should the subsequent operations be delayed by even a segnt,
many things might no longer be feasible in ti.
It was at this mont that Patricia spoke up,
"Ronald, the investigators from the bureau are on their way."
Ronald nodded slightly,
"Let them handle this. We should first interrogate this fellow."
As he spoke, Ronald dragged the unconscious caster into a secluded corner, reached into his pocket, and imdiately pulled out a magic potion he had recovered earlier in the apartnt—Heloise’s Truth Serum.
Having lived with Heloise for so long, the two had shared hiding places for so of their belongings.
Just now, in the apartnt, Ronald had found these familiar items.
Heloise must have believed that Ronald would return.
Thus, she had hidden these ’gifts’ in a place only they knew about, in case Ronald might need them upon his return.
anwhile, Patricia watched as Ronald poured the magic potion into the enemy’s mouth.
She unusually offered additional information,
"I’ve looked into this drug since I last saw it. It was newly developed by the Entrode Spy Agency, and only a very few people have the authorization to use it."
"I know." Ronald nodded lightly.
He understood that Patricia was reminding him that there might be sothing amiss with Heloise’s identity.
To offer such a subtle hint.
Patricia’s goodwill was very clear.
Snap, snap—
Privately acknowledging this kindness, Ronald was also quick to act.
Making sure the magic potion was in the caster’s stomach, he swiftly slapped the man awake.
The Nine Commandnts caster’s lucidity was brief.
His hazy eyes had barely registered Ronald’s gray irises before the overpowering effect of the drug, which disrupted his thoughts, surged forth.
"Ugh..."
Soon, he too beca slack-jawed and vacant-eyed.
The Entrode Spy Agency’s product was reliable; the reaction of this victim was almost identical to that of several previous ones.
So, Ronald began to ask,
"What is your na?"
"Ferloc Troos."
"Your identity?"
"mber of the Nine Commandnts... Caster..."
"As for the Harvest Festival attack plan, how much do you know?"
"Our side—to cause as much disruption as possible, draw the city’s guards’ attention, and cover for the main forces to successfully launch an attack on the festival procession."
Hearing this, Ronald and Patricia exchanged glances.
Then they continued to interrogate,
"What about the cult magicians?"
"The city’s cult magicians, do you have any contact with those people?"
At that mont, under the control of the magic potion, the caster from the Nine Commandnts had a dazed look, but his answer was concise,
"Yes—"
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