Strangely enough, when the black-robed man was split in half by the runic greatsword, there was no blood.
Instead, the cut revealed a strange, pitch-black substance that quickly melted and vanished into the air.
Seeing this, the elven master craftsman immediately shouted at the automaton that had struck him down:
"He's a Shadow Mage! Once per day, he can escape death through his shadow. He must be hiding in yours. Attack behind you!" (Ancient Elven)
The moment the words fell, the automaton that had branded Audrey spun around and stabbed straight into its own shadow.
The strike worked.
The black-robed man was forced out of the darkness.
The moment he appeared, the automaton followed up with a flurry of attacks, its runic greatsword slashing again and again, forcing him to retreat continuously.
But as a Sequence Five, he was no pushover. Even while dividing his focus to control the elven craftsman, he still tried to manipulate the automaton's shadow, attempting to restrain or even take control of it.
Because of this, several seemingly unavoidable attacks were narrowly evaded.
At the same time, the black-robed man couldn't help but curse himself.
He had made the same mistake as the elf.
Thinking he had everything under control… and ignoring the details.
This was clearly an elven ruin. They had even seen this still-functioning automaton with their own eyes.
So why hadn't he considered the possibility that the damn craftsman had already taken control of it?
Regret was useless now.
All he could do was focus on the fight.
Fortunately, there was one piece of good news.
The tremors from underground were becoming stronger and more frequent. At the same time, the blooming patterns on the surrounding walls grew more and more vivid.
Even if the Count was deliberately suppressing the scale of the battle, the people above should have already noticed something was wrong.
As the fight dragged on, the automaton's attacks began to slow.
More and more of its shadow had been taken over.
The elven craftsman struggled desperately to break free, but although they were both Sequence Five, he had already lost the initiative. With his shadow controlled, all he could do was distract most of the enemy's attention and slow down the process.
He couldn't stop it entirely.
And hiding in darkness was useless against a Shadow Mage. On the contrary, losing sight of one's own shadow would only make things worse.
Finally, after a prolonged struggle, the automaton's shadow was completely replaced.
Under the control of the towering shadow, the automaton froze in place, unable to move.
Worse still, after taking over its shadow, the black-robed man directly controlled the automaton to stab its own body with the runic greatsword.
With a thunderous crash, the automaton collapsed.
The black-robed man, drenched in sweat, finally relaxed.
Controlling both a Sequence Five and an ancient automaton at the same time had taken a heavy toll on him.
But now that the automaton was gone, everything would be much easier.
He turned and walked toward the elven craftsman again.
"Well then, the interruption is over. Once I kill you, it'll be time for me to leave. Something this big has happened in the Special Zone. If I don't move fast, I might end up meeting you in the underworld right after sending you there."
He took out a dagger.
This time, he had no intention of savoring the kill.
He would slit the elf's throat and be done with it.
As for making the elves take the blame, that was simple.
Afterward, he could just place the dagger in the craftsman's hand and stage it as a ritual sacrifice.
After all, he had just activated an ancient army equivalent to Sequence Two.
Everything would point to the elves.
Just as he believed himself completely safe
A loud gunshot suddenly echoed from behind him, accompanied by a burst of sparks from the darkness of the sewer.
The black-robed man felt a heavy impact in his chest, followed by intense pain.
He had been shot.
Almost instantly, he turned and pointed.
Mozo, hidden in the darkness, had his shadow seized.
The black-robed man let out a breath of relief.
Luckily, it was only a low Sequence.
Controlling his shadow required little effort.
To a Sequence Five, even when injured, lower Sequences were nothing.
But he forgot one thing.
When injured and mentally strained, one's control over their abilities weakens.
The elven craftsman broke free.
At least partially.
His shadow was no longer completely replaced. It now appeared half human, half elf.
Seizing the moment, the craftsman used the half of his body he could still move and thrust his hand straight into the black-robed man's chest.
It should have been a fatal blow.
But the result made him freeze for a moment.
No heart?
A Mirror Man?
This innate peculiarity saved the black-robed man from instant death.
Though the wound was still fatal, it bought him enough time to strike back.
Especially with half of the craftsman's body still immobilized.
Knowing he was doomed, the black-robed man's face twisted with ferocity as he drove his dagger into the craftsman's heart.
He wasn't getting out of this alive.
But it didn't matter.
As long as this elven craftsman died here, the elves would remain the prime suspects.
After all, he belonged to the Empire's secret forces. Even within the Empire, only His Majesty the Emperor knew his identity.
With that thought, after plunging in the dagger, he looked up and said:
"Your Majesty… I have repaid the Empire."
With that, he died.
As for the craftsman, though the dagger pierced his heart, his powerful elven physique kept him from dying immediately.
Even so, he collapsed to his knees, barely holding on.
At the same time, Mozo, who had fired the shot, regained his freedom and stepped out of the darkness.
He looked at the kneeling craftsman with a complicated expression.
With injuries like that, there was no saving him.
Seeing Mozo, the craftsman struggled to speak between labored breaths:
"Take… that girl… and run, human. This place… will soon be swept clean by my king's army. Run… while you still can. Warn the people above as well…"
"I hate this city for defiling my king's glory… but… you ignorant humans… are innocent…"
"Go…"
Mozo showed no reaction.
He simply walked calmly toward the statue.
The craftsman frowned in confusion at first.
"Run… take the girl and run…"
But then his expression changed.
His eyes widened in fury.
Mozo's target… was the crown on the statue.
"You bastard! What are you doing?! That is my king's crown, human!"
Driven by rage, the dying elven craftsman somehow found the strength to stand.
Staggering forward, he grabbed Mozo by the throat.
His face was twisted with fury, terrifying to behold.
Yet his trembling hands revealed the truth.
He was already on the verge of death.
What sustained him now was not his failing body
But an unshakable belief.
The king's glory must never be defiled.