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墨書 Inktalez
On the second morning after Val's arrival, Makarov disappeared. Normally, it was just Makarov, which wasn't a big deal for Oghast. Even if he was the President of the Guild with Meteoric Radiance, it didn't change much, so Newton and Makarov's escape went quite smoothly.
The two of them arrived directly at the shore, where several vehicles for their escape were prepared. Among them were flying devices, boats, and even submarines that Newton had arranged.
"You really have everything covered," Makarov remarked, feeling that this guy might have gone a bit overboard with the preparations.
"How can you not be fully prepared?" Newton rolled his eyes. Although they only needed one vehicle to escape, he activated all of them because everything inside was pre-set, eliminating the possibility of a driverless situation. While these might not be of much use, they could serve as a distraction if someone came after them. Moreover, if they returned and these vehicles were still intact, they could act as a transit point between themselves and this continent.
"Sure enough, I knew this wouldn't be so simple. It seems like someone from over there has come to rescue them," a disheveled figure suddenly appeared, his face twisted with resentment.
"It's all because of you..."
"Boom!"
A cylindrical object exploded, and purple smoke spread instantly but dissipated quickly. However, the newcomer had already collapsed to the ground, while Makarov and Newton found themselves wearing masks without realizing when they had put them on.
"Sorry, but we don't have time to waste here with lackeys," Newton said as he removed his mask and looked at the opponent, tightening his grip around their neck.
"You treating my subordinate like this is making me quite nervous."
A girl with emerald green hair, dressed quite revealingly, appeared before Makarov and Newton. Newton felt as if she had materialized right in front of him, and then he sensed that she seemed to grow larger in an instant.
"If you two just escape like this, it would be quite troublesome for us. So, could you please go back? And judging by your appearance, you don't seem like an easy opponent. Besides, the method you just used against me won't work."
The newcomer was Brantish, one of the Holy Twelve Shields. Val had done some research on this individual; he was not particularly enthusiastic about fighting and had a certain degree of laziness. However, he would take the simplest approach to avoid trouble.
"You see, right now you are just two individuals. If I wanted to, I could instantly turn you both into something as small as ants. At that point, you'd be doomed."
"Is that so? I don't quite think so."
Newton would never come unprepared. With a snap of his fingers, around twenty suits of armor flew out from the sea behind him. He knew that his combat power was never the strongest; external equipment was his true asset.
"Useless. I can easily shrink those things."
Brantish was correct; even if it were an entire nation, he could handle it effortlessly. What could a few suits of armor do?
"Yes, I admit these might not match your combat power. Indeed, I've researched quite a bit about the Holy Twelve Shields. However, unless you have overwhelming strength to crush us, you are indeed a rather tricky opponent among equals. But when have I ever intended to use these things to fight you?"
In an instant, both Newton and Makarov vanished. Brantish was taken aback as those twenty suits of armor suddenly flew off in all directions. Although Brantish could shrink or enlarge objects, he couldn't alter space itself. Thus, in an instant, all the suits of armor disappeared, and even the remaining vehicles sped away quickly.
"Should we pursue them?"
Brantish frowned and shook his head.
"Forget it; it's too much trouble."
Makarov's escape was nothing more than a minor issue for the Albarez Empire. Such matters had no influence on the empire as a whole. Even when Brantish finally encountered these two individuals, he didn't know their purpose and chose not to intervene. As a result, Newton and Makarov returned to their continent without any incident between them.
“Old man, aren’t you going to reminisce a bit? This is the land of your long-lost hometown!”
Newton chuckled as he looked at Makarov. Although he couldn't quite explain why, he felt the urge to tease him a little. Perhaps this was Newton's way of relieving his own tension after narrowly escaping death.
“Tch, you brat, I want to ask you, what’s going on? You didn’t hand everything over to Makao again regarding the Guild, did you? And you should know that our Guild is…”
Makarov immediately prepared to ramble on, but Newton was too impatient to listen. He waved his hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. If you’re really concerned, when you get back, the position of President will still be yours to sit in…”
Newton wasn’t just saying this out of anger; he genuinely intended it. After all, it seemed like none of the next generation had any plans to take that position, so it would be better to let Makarov return to it.
“Don’t! I finally get a break. You have no idea how well I’ve been living over there—eating well and sleeping well. Life has been incredibly comfortable.”
Makarov looked disdainful, as if the position of President was nothing but a source of immense suffering.
“Alright, enough nonsense. Seriously, you went to see the Albarez Empire this time. How do you feel? Do you have confidence in winning?”
“To be honest, facing the Holy Twelve Shields, I have no confidence at all. According to Val’s intel, Val could easily be one of the first ones taken down among us. The rest are either as powerful as the Twin Walls or as overwhelmingly strong as our top fighter. Almost no one can stand up to those guys. Even if everyone joined forces, it would be hard to make an impact. Plus, their magic is quite troublesome; I’ve heard they have abilities that can manipulate memories and even time. Just those spells alone are enough to make someone a formidable opponent. But fortunately, we still have ways to cope with this. For now, we can only hope that fewer people die in this war…”
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