Chapter 293

Chapter 293: Infiltration

The prey had completely lost all resistance, so how could the Magic Griffin warship let it escape?

Suddenly, flames erupted from the warship’s tail thrusters. The eighty-meter-long behemoth shot forward with impossible speed, arriving directly above the Narwhal within moments.

Two massive three-clawed limbs, each over ten meters long, extended from beneath its wings. The claws snapped down like an osprey catching fish, brutally seizing the falling Narwhal.

The violent impact nearly shattered the ship. The keel warped grotesquely as debris spilled through the gaps in the magic griffin’s claws, raining into the Sea of Clouds below. The Narwhal would disintegrate within minutes – but after such effort to retrieve it, the Blue Truth Sect wouldn’t let that happen.

Vanguard ships poured from the warship’s hatches, firing grappling hooks and cables to stabilize the crumbling vessel. Glider-equipped experts landed on the broken deck to begin searching.

Then came the roar.

A dragon-like bellow tinged with Dragon’s might shook the bullet-riddled deck. A two-headed wyvern burst through the planks, spewing freezing mist from both jaws.

"Undead?" The Saint’s scoff held contempt, though his hidden face showed wariness. Undead were nightmares for mind-related abilities – their death-powered minds residing in Souls rather than brains made them immune to mental powers.

He’d scanned the Narwhal with telepathy, detecting no active thoughts. Yet here stood this mutated two-headed wyvern corpse.

The unprepared crew faltered. Two Awakened Ones froze instantly into ice sculptures before being smashed to shards. The wyvern lunged at a Vanguard ship, causing evasive maneuvers that sparked midair collisions. Soon the sky filled with tangled flying vehicles as the undead beast rampaged.

"Useless!" The Saint vanished from the bridge in flicker.

Star Shift.

No magic array or incantation needed – mere thought teleported him outside. He hovered, cold eyes assessing the trapped Narwhal and rampaging wyvern. Now he chanted properly.

Flame Impact.

Fire pillars engulfed the wyvern. An Ice Wall prison solidified around the flames. The fire-vulnerable creature howled, battering itself against icy bars until bones shattered, ashes scattering on the wind.

Undead countered mind-related abilities, but not the Saint. His casual gesture erased this level 60 threat.

"Search."

No spoken order needed. In bad moods, he projected commands through mental pressure. Every crew member hundreds of meters away flinched as the word branded their minds.

Everyone’s head throbbed from the not-so-loud voice, yet none dared complain – not even the level 60 captains. They scrambled to obey the Saint’s orders.

The search resumed without resistance.

And without results.

The Blue Truth Sect only recovered useless wreckage and two charred corpses too damaged to identify – not even their species could be determined.

These weren’t Midi and Reinhardt.

At this very moment, both men hid inside the Magic Griffin warship’s belly.

Infiltration had always been Midi’s goal.

With aerial combat being hopeless, their only chance was internal sabotage – simple logic wrapped in impossible risks.

The plan hinged on their Undead two-headed wyvern, natural bane of mind-related abilities.

As missiles rained down earlier, Midi’s scheme had already begun.

Keeping the Narwhal semi-intact proved crucial.

Though doomed to crash, the skyship needed enough value to tempt salvagers. This drove Midi to deflect missiles with desperate Draw and Slash techniques.

The mind games started here.

When the Magic Griffin warship activated turbo boosters to seize the falling Narwhal, Midi’s trap snapped shut.

"Wiseman of the Hand of Nightmare"’s undead alchemy became key.

Hiding in wreckage meant nothing against the Saint’s telepathy – only deep Meditation could simulate death.

Meanwhile, Reinhardt programmed their Undead wyvern: "Attack anything that moves."

Simple. Brutal. Effective.

Chaos erupted when the frost-breathing wyvern emerged. Crewmen scrambled like ants as ice mist filled the deck.

Amidst the bedlam, Midi and Reinhardt performed multiple Demon Shadow Flashes – phasing through the Vanguard ship’s open hatch like ghosts.

The Saint’s telepathy faltered here. While sensing wide areas or pinpointing nearby minds, the warship’s scale created blind spots. Mental scans showed only glowing smears.

Midi’s advantage? Future knowledge.

As reincarnator, he knew enemy capabilities intimately.

Yet this victory proved fleeting.

"How’s repairs?" Midi whispered in a cargo hold, using magical communications.

"Ten hours minimum," Emil answered from the Wind King Warship.

"Faster." He watched moonlight pierce the Sea of Clouds.

An impossible demand – yet Emil simply hummed acknowledgement.

"We’ll stall. Activate one weapon system."

"Which? We don’t know this ancient warship!"

Midi grinned.

"The biggest one."