Chapter 329: 329 Art. 328. "The Skeptic"

After trampling down the guards, I found the room. A room with the name "Jailer's Office" engraved on it. There were still signs of life.

There was no time to lose.

The moment she stepped into the room, Vesterine stiffened her spine. She felt the air suddenly become heavy in her lungs. She felt as if she had swallowed a solid chill.

It wasn't simply the low temperature, but more than that, a chill was seeping into my body, trying to freeze me.

Without a doubt, the air is different from here on out. Vestalines felt as if she had wandered into a different world.

In that alien world. There is a man standing there. Paloma-Bashar, the warden. He was sitting alone on a chair in the room, looking at Vestalines.

It's as if he knew we'd be here.

A sorcerer or a sorceress.

Vestalyn muttered quietly, suppressing the emotions in her heart. Only a sorcerer or wizard with a firm handshake with the demonic, or a sorceress who had given her entire body to the demonic, could create this kind of oddity while still being human.

Vestalinu cautiously glanced around the room. From the patterns on the walls to the roughness of the fabric on the floor. But there was no hiding place, no sign of any concealment. Without a doubt, Paloma was there alone.

This, combined with the air in the room, was strange. The guards had been huddled around her until she arrived here. But when he came face to face with the leader, he thought that he would be waiting for him alone.

That can't be true. It's a trap.

To go in or not to go in? Such a question rolled around in Vestalinu's mind. That was enough to make Vestalynn realize that her mind was not calm. If you only look at what is happening in front of you, there is no reason why you should enter.

Come on in. Don't be shy. You're here to catch me like an owl, aren't you?

His voice was heavy. A voice marked by the nobility of the aristocracy, but also by the accumulation of years. Paloma sat in her office chair with a mustache and a grim expression on her face.

Vestalinu held his silence for a moment, his back bouncing sensitively.

I don't want him to talk too much, and we shouldn't even be face to face. Such distrust seeped into Vesterine's mind. After all, her instincts were right that she shouldn't enter the room so easily. So...

--If it's a trap, we'll end it before it works. Leaning forward, Vestalines swung his throwing axe at Paloma.

Then, gaining momentum, she sent her entire body flying into the room. She was still some distance away, and the throwing axe probably wouldn't stop all of her movements.

But I can guide it where I want it to go. I can sew up its mind and its gaze. If you can do that, you don't need anything else.

The last thing you want a sorcerer to do is follow in their footsteps. They have the one and only weapon of magic. If you let them wield it freely, mercenaries won't stand a chance.

Therefore, the thing to do is to let them do nothing.

No sophisticated chanting, no divine blessings, no eyes that curse and kill the enemy. Don't let them raise all of that and lose consciousness. That was the best way, Vestalyn knew.

So she ran, forgetting to even breathe. Her eyes widen as she cuts through the sticky air. One moment. One moment to end it all.

The battle axe roared majestically and fell on one of Paloma's arms. There is no hesitation, no concern. The void ruptured, screaming and splitting.

I'm not going to kill him. That won't save him. He gave me his trust, and I owe it to him.

Vesterine raised her eyes high. I'll be back.

I'm sure you're right. I'm not sure what to do. It's the price of trust. In essence, this is just a contract of equal exchange. It's not like there's something else crawling out of the woodwork.

The iron lumps that shot out from Vestalinu's arms with a brilliant will were right in front of Paloma's eyes. You'll be able to find a lot more information on the web.

It's not just that, Vestalines could see that she said without even blinking.

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I'm cautious by nature. I'm not so sure I can avoid a swing from you. Perhaps even a small army could kill me.

Funny. Vestalinu's swing happened in the blink of an eye. You don't give your enemy time to say a word.

I've seen the look of a man who's been mutilated and still doesn't know what happened to him. But I've never seen an enemy show such composure.

Something cold licked Vesterine's spine.

At the same time, the sticky air felt like a chill that clung to her body and limbs. At this point, Vestalynn realized that she had not been able to swing her axe.

The axe was held in place as if it were fixed in midair. Even with Vesterine's full weight on it, not a single piece of it moved. It's a great way to make sure you don't get caught in the middle of the night.

--A magical ward. I'm not sure what to make of that.

It's not something that manifests itself for a moment, but something that is fixed by a ritual. Vestalinu gulped.

This is bad. I hope whatever trap it is, it still attacks me. Then there would at least be an opening.

But magical wards are different. Vestalinu doesn't know everything about it, but it is a form of boundary magic.

It separates you from your enemies and eliminates them all. It's not violent, but it's undeniably unparalleled when it comes to defending yourself.

Paloma moves her mouth, choosing her words carefully.

I'm incompetent when it comes to magic, ...... and I've only mastered this one thing.

Paloma says, her voice as heavy as ever. The moustache moves widely, and the hard eyes stare straight at Vestalinu.

There is a hint of color in her gaze. It's not relief, it's not composure. It's not relief, it's not comfort, it's a kind of anxiety that you don't know where it is.

But it's not something that can be easily broken. Give up, you've lost. You can't catch me. Your people can't win against my guardians.

Hearing these words, Vestalynu reflexively pulled out his pinned down battle axe. It returned to her hand so quickly that it was almost anticlimactic. There's nothing strange about the feel of it.

It seems that it is this room itself that has become alien, but it is only Paloma's surroundings that are separated from the rest of the world.

Then we're not defeated yet. Nothing has been decided yet, not even the beginning. Even so, for you to receive the word "defeat" would be a betrayal of the man who believed in you and sent you forth.

That's impossible. Betrayal is a word I hate more than anything. Vestalinu bites his gnawed fingertips with his teeth and bends them forcibly. And swallowed the cold air. Thoughts, turning.

It is true that what Paloma deals with is different compared to normal magic, but it is still magic.

In the end, its quality must depend on the spirituality and soul of the practitioner.

Unlike bombardment magic, which swallows the enemy in an instant, this is boundary magic, which requires the continuation of the technique. Even if you have performed the ritual and fixed it, wielding it will undoubtedly bring about the accumulation of fatigue.

Then you have a good chance to win.

Vestalinu carefully calms his ragged breathing and holds his battle axe deep. The frustration in her heart became irritation, making every nerve in her body tense.

And so, she let her entire consciousness focus on the magical field before her.

--That's why Vestalinu didn't notice. So Vestalynu didn't notice. She assumed that the magical presence that surrounded her was only due to boundary magic.

As he swung his axe, Vestalynn saw Paloma's words spill out again.

"You should learn to doubt people. I've always been suspicious.

At the same time as Paloma's words, something frosty went through Vestalines limbs.

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