“Nesli, are the Three Hounds and Four Beasts really strong?” Tuck asked quietly.

Nesli nodded. “They’re strong—no, extremely strong.

“The Three Hounds include two A-Class Nen users, and the third is B-Class, but with a strange and troublesome ability. As for the Four Beasts, all four members are A-Class. I can’t match any of them.

“And the Herd is even worse.”

“There can be differences among A-Class users,” she continued. “According to Lord Sotan, the Herd’s strength is only second to his. They’re far above the Three Hounds or the Four Beasts.”

Tuck frowned. “So the Three Hounds went after Ron, then the Four Beasts, and now the Herd is on the move. Doesn’t that mean Ron must’ve already dealt with the Four Beasts?”

After a brief pause, Nesli nodded. “It’s likely.”

Tuck felt a tangle of conflicting emotions. He used to think Ron’s talent and power were around his own level, but clearly Ron was far beyond him. Even a single one of Ron’s Nen Beasts had reached A-Class. Nesli had mentioned that when an A-Class attacker tried to ambush Ron, Ron finished him off in a heartbeat. That alone had stunned Tuck.

When they parted ways before, Tuck asked Ron how strong he really was. Ron replied that he was dozens of times stronger than Tuck. Back then, Tuck assumed it was a joke—only now did he see it wasn’t.

“Maybe it’s not just dozens of times, either. Could dozens of me even pull off what Ron did—killing the Three Hounds and beating the Four Beasts?”

He doubted it.

Refocusing, Tuck said, “Nesli, our plan was to take on the Herd and Oster at the same time. But now that the Herd has left, we only have to face Oster. That makes success more likely, right?”

Nesli nodded again.

Tuck went on. “But that means Ron’s in danger, doesn’t it? The Herd is strong.”

“Yes. If Ron really ends up against the Herd, his best move is to run away. They aren’t on the same level as the Three Hounds or the Four Beasts.”

As she spoke, Nesli realized she’d repeated a version of this warning many times already. Time after time, Ron’s strength had shocked her, but she still couldn’t believe he could take down the Herd.

“Have we used Ron?” Tuck asked.

“We have, but it was our only option,” Nesli replied. “I understand what you’re thinking, Tuck, but remember:

“Oster’s grudge against Ron isn’t our doing. We didn’t feed him a shred of intel on Ron. There’s no reason to feel guilty.”

Tuck turned toward Nesli.

“But because of me, Ron stayed so long in the Saheilta Union. Maybe he’d have left by now otherwise.”

“That’s possible,” Nesli admitted. “But even if you tried to go after them right now, would you catch up to the Herd? And if you did, could you beat them? Any one of them outclasses you.

“Ron has probably run off by now. If you tried to help, you’d only be a burden. Just focus on what’s in front of us—that’s our job.”

Tuck couldn’t say for sure whether he was convinced, but he knew Nesli was right. The Herd had gone too far, and there was no catching them.

Just then, the captain of Nightfall gave the order.

“Move!”

All eight members of Nightfall rushed into Oster’s estate.

Splurt!

Splurt!

Splurt!

Two assassins led the way, quietly dispatching Oster’s ordinary guards. One after another, those guards fell until dozens lay dead.

“Alert! Intruders!”

A guard, moments from death, managed to trigger an alarm. At once, the entire estate was thrown into chaos. Oster himself reacted immediately.

“An attack? Who is it?”

He ran through the possibilities: Ron, Geruna, the Revolutionaries. But he quickly dismissed Ron.

“The Herd’s far stronger than the Four Beasts—they can’t possibly be beaten so soon. No, they won’t be beaten at all. So it’s not Ron. Geruna? Or the Revolutionaries?”

Both had reasons to strike at Oster. If he died, plenty of power vacuums would open, and Geruna could gain a massive advantage. Oster wanted Geruna dead; Geruna wanted Oster dead. As for the Revolutionaries, Oster deemed them a pack of lunatics who kept claiming the nation was rotten and needed their salvation. They hated the nobility and despised a minister like him. They lurked in shadows, like rats in a sewer, and he loathed them.

“Hah!” Oster snorted coldly.

“They assume with the Herd gone, this is the perfect moment to kill me? How naive. It doesn’t matter who sent them—nobody’s getting out alive. They want my head? Impossible! Since they came, they can stay here forever and feed my flowers.”

He stood, gazing out the window. Guards poured in from every direction, some wielding aura and others armed with modern weaponry. Even small-caliber guns could be dangerous if used effectively, though the risk to Nen users was limited.

A butler hurried into the study.

“My lord.”

“Have we identified the intruders?”

“They’re from Nightfall, my lord—the Revolutionaries. There are eight of them.”

The butler paused. “Among them, three are B-Class Nen users and five are A-Class.”

Oster’s brows lifted slightly.

“Only that many? Sotan didn’t come?”

“No sign of him.”

Oster sneered.

“They underestimate me—Nightfall thinks sending a few small-time scrubs can kill me? Sotan can’t be bothered to come himself? Is he looking down on me, or is he too scared to face me?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep