Chapter 588: Urgency
On the eastern coast of the Prit Kingdom, at the outskirts of Tivyán.
Between the woods outside Cold Cliff Prison, a sudden and intense explosion shattered the sky. The narrow and secluded forest path was suddenly engulfed by a fierce shockwave and scorching flames, affecting a large area. Countless towering trees were caught in the blast, and the ground trembled violently.
When the explosion ceased, amidst the dissipating smoke, the overturned vehicle that had been at the center of the explosion was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a dark pit. Around the pit, numerous trees lay scattered in a radial pattern, leaving the entire scene in disarray.
Outside the explosion site, in an unaffected area, several figures gathered behind a massive boulder under the shade of the trees, watching the distant explosion site. These were none other than the Cold Cliff Prison guards who had been escorting the explosive vehicle, as well as Gregor, who had gone after them.
Originally, those pursuing and those being pursued stood together, looking at the direction of the explosion without any signs of conflict. Everyone’s eyes were filled with grave expressions.
“It has already exploded. I don’t know how things are.”
“I don’t know. We must go confirm it. If alive, we need to see the person; if dead, we need to see the body.”
Gazing at the fallen trees in the distance, the prison guards exchanged glances and spoke solemnly. Then, the disguised Eight Pinnacle members prepared to examine the explosion site more closely. When Gregor tried to follow, he was stopped by one of the leaders among them.
“Hold on, you stay here for now. For safety, it’s best she doesn’t see you.”
“Uh… okay.” Hearing the words of the Eight Pinnacle members, Gregor nodded and remained where he was, no longer following them. He watched silently as the guards quickly removed their disguises, put on cloaks, and armed themselves before rushing toward the explosion site.
At this moment, near the perimeter of the explosion site, a figure lay in a pool of bl**d, unmistakably Nosben transformed into Misha’s appearance. Due to the explosion, Nosben was covered in bl**d, with cracks appearing all over his skin. He lay on the ground, his face twisted in agony.
Nosben, having reacted just in time to escape some distance before the explosion, wasn’t directly turned into fragments but suffered severe injuries, unable to move. His eyes widened as he struggled to shift his body.
“Mmm… Ugh!!”
Just as Nosben was about to crawl away, a sharp, numbing pain suddenly coursed through his body. His body involuntarily convulsed and he lost consciousness. However, seconds later, he regained consciousness, his eyes now devoid of fear and replaced with a calm, indifferent look.
The “Nosben” who had regained consciousness struggled to sit up in the bl**d, gasping for breath as he looked towards the distance with a somber gaze. What he saw was several men in cloaks and masks darting out from the woods at high speed, arriving at the path and spotting the injured Nosben transformed into Misha. Everyone’s brows furrowed slightly.
“You… Cough… Who are you?! How dare…” Nosben coughed up bl**d and asked the masked men, while one of the masked men gave a signal to another, who immediately responded,
“Boss, what do we do? She isn’t dead yet. Our mission is to rescue her. She isn’t part of our plan.”
“Forget that, let’s take out this black dog first. Otherwise, we’ll have trouble later.”
After this conversation, several masked men rushed toward the injured Nosben with weapons drawn. Seeing this, Nosben, whose face resembled Misha’s, waved his hand, causing a strong wind to rise and blow toward the attackers, forcing them to cover their faces. Nosben was then blown away by another gust of wind, soaring into the distance. One of the masked men exclaimed loudly,
“She still has the ability to use powers! Don’t let her get away!”
Then, several masked men raised their firearms and aimed at Nosben, who was being blown away by the wind. Amidst the loud gunshots and dissipating smoke, bullets flew from the guns, hitting Nosben multiple times. He screamed as he fell from the air, crashing hard onto the ground.
Seeing no chance of escape, Nosben, whose face resembled Misha’s, displayed despair on his face. Lying on the ground, he pulled out a sigil with his last bit of strength, catching the attention of the masked men. At this moment, Nosben stuck the sigil on himself and shouted sharply at the approaching masked men,
“I curse you forever! Filthy mongrels in the shadows!”
Nosben used the sigil, but it did not provide him with any enhancement or create an illusion to aid his escape. Instead, intense flames burst forth from the spot where the sigil was placed, instantly engulfing Nosben. He turned into a human torch, screaming in agony.
“Burning Sigil…”
Seeing this, several masked Eight Pinnacle members halted. Looking at the target lying motionless in the flames, their leader murmured,
“He knows what this sigil is.”
In the ruthless struggle within the Secret World, countless official and non-official Extraordinary Beings fought fiercely in secret. In these battles between extraordinary organizations, d*ath often wasn’t the end. After an Extraordinary Being died in the hidden conflict, their remaining flesh, bones, and even soul could become trophies for their enemies, used in various desecrations and reutilizations. The Burning Sigil was a tool that could preserve the dignity of an Extraordinary Being or even save their soul in moments of despair.
The function of the Burning Sigil was simple: it could only be used on someone who had no intention of resisting. Once used, the entire body of the person would turn into flammable fuel, burning rapidly and completely within a short time, reducing flesh, bones, and all carried items to ashes.
Without flesh, it couldn’t be served on a table or made into a puppet. Without bones, they couldn’t be processed into artifacts. Fresh corpses were the best mediums for spirit communication, and without a corpse as a medium, it would be much harder to communicate with a person. Additionally, some items on the body would also burn, preventing enemies from obtaining powerful spoils or useful intelligence.
Because of these benefits, the Burning Sigil was distributed in many large extraordinary organizations, especially official ones, to middle-level officials and members executing special missions, providing a dignified end when cornered. Clearly, in the eyes of the masked men, Nosben—or rather “Misha”—was in such a situation.
Thus, under the watchful eyes of several masked Eight Pinnacle members, the flames burned away everything that could be consumed and quickly dissipated into smoke. Seeing this, the masked men exchanged glances and nodded silently. They then looked at the chaotic and noisy Cold Cliff Prison in the distance, seemingly in turmoil, and quickly evacuated the scene.
After the masked men had left, far away from the scene, atop a dense tree canopy, a royal knight in a cloak sighed in relief while closely monitoring the situation. Nearby, a man known as the “Detective” smiled and said,
“They’ve left. Congratulations, Miss Misha. Now, whether in the eyes of the Eight Pinnacle Nest or the An Yin Bureau, you are dead. You are truly free.”
With a faint smile, Detective Edmond said to Misha, who replied after gazing at the distance,
“Will anyone notice something wrong?”
“Heh… Given how things have progressed, no. Let’s leave quickly. People will arrive once the chaos at the prison calms down. We have more work to do back home.”
Edmond continued smiling and said to Misha. After hearing this, Misha paused for a moment and then nodded, beginning to evacuate with Edmond.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest, the leader of the Eight Pinnacle members who had successfully retreated called out to a human-faced spider from his clothing, letting it crawl onto his hand. He then spoke slowly to the abstract face on the spider,
“The plan succeeded. Misha Devenshill is confirmed dead. We have safely evacuated, and the operation at the prison can be terminated.”
After saying this, the masked leader let the spider return to his clothing and led his subordinates away from Cold Cliff Prison.
…
A while later, in another direction at the outskirts of Tivyán, inside the fortress Wind Fortress, which serves as the headquarters of the An Yin Bureau.
Inside the core area of the Wind Fortress, in a luxurious and spacious office, Harold, dressed formally, sat at his desk, diligently reviewing documents. Suddenly, a slightly urgent knock sounded at the door. Hearing this, Harold paused and said,
“Come in.”
As soon as Harold finished speaking, the door opened, and a slightly plump man walked in, his expression serious, and approached Harold.
“My prince, something serious has happened. There was a prisoner uprising at Cold Cliff Prison. Someone attacked from both inside and outside, even using explosives. Some sections of the walls were destroyed, and several prisoners escaped.”
“What…?” Harold frowned, setting down his pen, and looked at the man.
“Who broke the prisoners out?”
“We’re not sure yet. Recently, Cold Cliff received quite a few new prisoners, and among the dozen or so who escaped, there were members from various societies. Therefore, we cannot determine who exactly was behind it and need further investigation.
“There’s also another matter. It seems that Lady Devenshill was at the prison when the riot broke out, but she disappeared afterward and hasn’t been found.”
The man continued with a serious tone. Hearing this, Harold’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Misha… missing? Is this real?”
Harold was about to say something else, but his expression tightened, revealing a hint of pain. He held his forehead as if enduring some kind of pain. Seeing this, the man in front of him immediately expressed concern,
“What’s wrong, Prince Harold? Are you feeling unwell?”
“It’s nothing… Just a slight headache recently. I’ve checked, and it’s not serious…”
Harold said, then picked up a cup of tea and took a sip. Looking back at the man, he said,
“You may go. Have Edmund and Duke bring people to Cold Cliff. I’ll be there shortly.
“Yes!”
Following Harold’s instructions, the man turned and left. Harold continued sitting at his desk, holding his forehead, deep in thought.
…
Far from Cold Cliff Prison, on a muddy street in a suburban area, a black carriage moved slowly along the muddy path. Inside the carriage, Dorothy, who had returned to Tivyán, was remotely controlling the situation.
‘The plan went relatively smoothly… This way of dying leaves no room for suspicion by the Eight Pinnacle Nest…
‘The exact same figure, clothes, and face as the target, the cracks on the body after being hit by the explosion, the ability to control the wind, and the indomitable attitude—there’s no reason for them to doubt.’
Sitting in the swaying carriage, Dorothy thought to herself. In the drama she orchestrated, although the actors seemed flawless to the audience, they were ultimately just actors, fake performers, not genuine.
The identical appearance and figure were achieved through the actor’s own abilities. The cracks on the body came from the stone-skin sigil provided by the real Misha. Dorothy had seen this sigil during her confrontation with the Eight Pinnacle members. Gregor had inadvertently stamped Dorothy’s Puppet Mark on the actor named Nosben when changing his clothes, allowing Dorothy to transmit the sigil’s effect through invisible spiritual threads.
The wind at the scene came from Misha herself, observing from afar. The actor’s final display of indomitable will came directly from Dorothy’s manipulation. The final prop used, the Burning Sigil, originally belonged to Misha and was issued by the An Yin Bureau.
‘First, replace the prisoners sent out for labor reform, instigate a riot inside the prison, then organize people to attack the prison directly, while also restraining the extraordinary forces inside the prison and targeting Misha on her way back. Heh… The Eight Pinnacle Nest’s calculations aren’t bad either. This way, they prevent anyone inside the prison from supporting Misha, and after her d*ath… the cause of d*ath might be attributed to the riot, making it difficult for others to detect the conspiracy against Misha, thereby lulling the An Yin Bureau into complacency…
‘Considering the current situation, they still seem to fear that the An Yin Bureau knows the full truth… Their influence has grown, but they haven’t reached the point of total control…’
Dorothy continued to think, and a sense of urgency rose in her heart.
