"Do not move, kid."

"Otherwise, I'll blow your head off."

Just as Merka was about to cleave Mira in half with a knife, a cold gun barrel pressed against the back of his head.

Merka was slightly stunned, then countless heretics descended, flapping their wings.

They surrounded Merka in layers, each holding a gun pointed at him. The pitch-black gun barrels seemed to be warning Merka not to swing down that deadly wand, or they would easily turn him into a sieve.

"Alright... Do you think I fear death?"

"If I can sacrifice myself for such despicable scum... I am willing to do so."

Looking at the despairing scene around him, Merka hesitated for a moment, then his eyes filled with a resolute willingness to sacrifice.

He loved Turing, loved Turing immensely. But before that, he considered himself a child of all the people of Acadia.

He cherished his life sincerely, and deeply felt the preciousness of encountering all these experiences with Turing.

But now, reality demanded that he sacrifice his life for Acadia's future. Without hesitation, Merka placed his heart as a stake on the scales of victory.

Not because he didn't love Turing enough.

Simply because he hoped to help, to rescue all the people of Acadia, including Turing, from the clutches of Oedipus.

His muscles tensed, his lips turning purple, he solemnly made up his mind. He believed that Turing would eventually understand his choice.

With a brief mental preparation, Merka fiercely swung the wand down.

"Don't do something stupid, or your life won't be guaranteed."

Another threat from the heretics behind him, but the tone inexplicably softened.

Feeling somewhat strange, Merka suddenly found the voice familiar.

During the swing of the wand, Merka glanced sideways and astonishingly discovered that the heretic standing behind him had slightly lifted her hood, revealing her face to Merka.

It was Bordeaux's face.

Has Bordeaux betrayed them? When did this happen?

No, this doesn't make sense, how could Bordeaux have such intelligence?

Is this a double-cross?

What on earth is going on?

Merka's thoughts were in disarray and he felt extremely shocked, causing the movement of his wand to unconsciously slow down.

In the blink of an eye, Bordeaux rushed to Merka's side, gripping his throat, stopping his arm from swinging down, and whispering lowly to Merka in a way that only the two of them could hear.

"Don't struggle, it's really me, not an angel in disguise."

"Repeal your magic, we can die together here with her, it's not worth it."

"They are not after your life... we still have a chance to escape, even counterattack. But you must listen to me first."

"Uh..."

Although theoretically a pretense, Bordeaux was acting for real.

With her skilled combat techniques, Bordeaux had her hands twisted around Merka's neck, almost making him choke and pass out.

Merka was pinned down by Bordeaux, his eyes rolling back, unable to breathe. Everyone present watched this scene, silently sighing in amazement.

No one doubted the authenticity of this heretic.

"Why... are you... here..."

Merka was hanging by a thread, his consciousness gradually fading. However, he kept a last trace of vigilance, not removing the magic attached to the twisted wand in his hand easily.

"I infiltrated by attacking the heretics, stealing their clothes, sneaking in."

"I found out that their leader possesses a kind of almost prophetic magical power."

"But I also discovered that she can't predict the enemy's movements as long as she can't see their faces."

"So I sneaked in, avoiding direct confrontation with her, hoping to strike a decisive blow through a surprise attack."

Bordeaux spoke, increasing the pressure in her hands. She seemed genuinely intent on choking Merka unconscious.

"...But...Bold...leur...is not...this...subtle..."

Merka exerted all his remaining strength to say to Bordeaux's ear.

At the same time, the wand in Merka's hand burst into a bright light, seemingly ready to wreak havoc unless Bordeaux provided a convincing explanation.

"Alright, alright, I surrender to you."

With a rueful expression, Bordeaux's face flushed slightly as she whispered to Merka.

"It was not my idea, it was Massai's idea, do you believe it now?"

"He's lurking outside, planning to coordinate with me when the time comes."

Upon hearing this, Merka finally felt content.

He slumped over and passed out.