In this utterly dead silence, a sudden, unanticipated sound broke through — a faint sigh.

From within a carriage.

From the sixth carriage, the very one that Moen had forbidden anyone to approach since their departure, the one shrouded in mystery.

"Ah, I honestly thought this would be a simple business trip to earn some easy money."

A helpless sigh, laced with the annoyance of being unable to slack off. Then, just as casually, a hand extended from within the carriage, aimed at the cracks, and waved dismissively.

Like clean water erasing ink stains, the cracks vanished instantly.

The world returned to clarity. Those who had just brushed past the edge of death were drenched in cold sweat, still unable to fully regain their composure.

Even Pink Bear was momentarily dazed, his startled gaze fixed on the carriage, the one he'd never discerned anything unusual about.

On the other side, sensing a force no weaker than his own, Indra King's expression grew grave. "You are..."

"What’s this? You recognize that brat but fail to recognize an old friend like me?"

The curtain of the carriage was lifted, revealing an elderly gentleman with an exceedingly kind and gentle demeanor.

He was dressed in a black tuxedo and a matching black top hat, with a flamboyant red rose pinned to his chest.

He looked older than Indra King, his temples streaked with white, but his eyes gleamed vibrantly with life.

The old gentleman looked at Indra King, removed his hat in a gesture of courtesy, and said with a cheerful smile:

"Long time no see, Indra King. Seeing you alive really ruins my mood."

"Vice President of the Adventurer’s Guild... no, wait. By now, you should be its President, shouldn't you? The Stargazer, Adolf Lovis!"

Indra King's expression turned dark.

“Quite unexpected. You’d humble yourself to personally guard a brat? Is the Adventurer’s Guild that idle lately?”

“Relax, I'm no longer the Guild President. Just a mere branch leader these days. I’ve left that position to a capable youngster.

As for why I’d stoop to protecting this boy, isn’t it the same reason as you?”

Adolf winked, grinning nonchalantly, and added:

"You’re chasing after a kid for money. Why can’t I guard someone for the same reason? As long as the pay is enough, work’s work. No shame in that."

"...Fair enough."

Those were the same two words Moen had uttered earlier. But coming from Indra King now, they carried a distinct tone of vexation.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

Pink Bear suddenly grabbed Moen by the neck, shaking him vigorously as he exclaimed in disbelief:

"You actually hid a *The Crowned* in the convoy? When did this happen?!"

"From the start," Moen rolled his eyes, escaping Pink Bear's grip. "I thought you’d noticed. Even Professor Pulan detected it. And you? You missed it? Just pathetic."

"Dammit! I figured you were being all mysterious because you had some big artillery stashed. Never thought you’d bring in the old rascal Adolf. How’d you even manage that?"

"How else? Enough money, of course."

Moen sighed. "To scrape together enough cash to hire Mr. Adolf, I sold off two of my dad’s estates. No idea if he’ll beat my ass when he gets back."

"Ha, no big deal. Your dad holds vast fertile lands in the Campbell territory and commands a third of the Empire's military manufacturing. He doesn’t really rely on those estates for income, does he? Why worry?"

Now confident with their newfound epic-level reinforcement, Pink Bear immediately adopted a bolder stance. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and vigorously smacked it onto Adolf’s pristine suit, declaring loudly:

"Brother Adolf, long time no see! You’re as classy as ever. Excellent! This time, with you and me together, we'll *totally crush* that old dog Indra King!"

"...Long time no see, Your Excellency Orlanriel."

Seeing his suit now stained red with blood, Adolf’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly. Yet he maintained the elegance of a gentleman and replied:

"That said, a total crushing spree doesn’t seem likely to happen. Knowing him as I do, I expect he wouldn’t do something so utterly pointless."

Adolf turned to Indra King and smiled.

"Isn’t that right, Your Excellency Indra King? At this point, even if you forcefully act, the odds won’t be in your favor. Why not withdraw instead?"

"Fair enough."

Once again, those same two words. But Indra King didn’t step down immediately. Instead, he turned to look at Moen.

"I have a question. Might you answer it?"

"Hmm?"

"If you had this kind of backup all along, why was the first thing on your mind to flee?" Indra King asked, a trace of curiosity in his tone.

“What else should I do? Stay and wait to be captured?”

Moen’s brows furrowed slightly as he retreated behind Adolf, unsure of what the old man was scheming.

“Besides, who could’ve known whether or not you had hidden cards of your own? Caution in all things, isn’t that right?”

“Fair enough.”

Having received his answer, Indra King suddenly sighed with emotion:

"No wonder some are so desperate to remove you, no matter the cost. Resilient, cautious, remarkably gifted, and blessed with a good father and a beneficial engagement. Moen Campbell, I can see why you’re deemed a threat."

In the dawn-lit world, a faint breeze stirred, fluttering the tattered edges of Indra King’s robes.

Standing with palms pressed together, just as he had through a century of ascetic practice, he didn’t move.

But Adolf’s expression grew tense. He took a step forward, shouting:

"Indra King! Have you gone mad? This is completely unlike you!"

“True, it’s not,” Indra King replied. “It seems I truly can’t kill him right now. But cautiousness, you see, isn’t restricted to just that brat.”

A dazzling crown shimmered into being, and the overwhelming presence of *The Crowned*—an essence as catastrophic as the tidal waves of an apocalyptic prophecy—burst forth unchecked.

Indra King spread his hands apart: One palm aimed at Pink Bear, the other clenched into a fist targeting Adolf.

In that instant.

Heaven and earth shook.

The faint breeze morphed into a gale that ripped through all it touched, a frenzy of blade-like currents tearing wildly.

“No way—he’s serious?!”

Pink Bear cursed under his breath, hastily raising his spiked club in defense.

On the other side, Adolf unleashed his aura to shield the others behind him. Confronting Indra King with a palm to meet his fist, he showed no sign of backing down, though his gaze turned noticeably grim.

"What are you trying to do, Indra King?"

"It’s simple. If I can’t kill him… then I won’t."

Facing two opponents, Indra King's expression returned to calm:

"After all, I’m not the only one working for the money. Next… onto Plan B."

“Plan B?”

The phrase sent a jolt of unease through everyone present. Before they could react further, a melodic voice emerged amidst the roaring gale.

The tune was wistful and lingering, as though reciting a love poem yearning for its absent muse, filled with bittersweet longing. Yet it also carried an allure reminiscent of a sea siren’s song, tinged with an uncanny charm.

Anyone remotely familiar with magic would instantly recognize its meaning.

It was a chant.

A magical chant.