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“This is…”
The scenery had changed. The members of the expedition looked around at their new surroundings, realizing that they were no longer in the valley where they had killed Ayla. To make matters worse, each of them realized that they were no longer together.
With a dumbfounded expression at what had just happened, McDowell broke the silence.
“It seems like… the tables have turned, haven't they?”
The members of the expedition had been separated in an instant, their plan of teaming up against the rest of the apostles no longer feasible. It seemed like the apostles had done something so that Henry’s allies couldn’t have it their way.
Finding himself alone, McDowell scratched the back of his head, completely at a loss. Even though they had discussed this possibility during their preliminary meetings, he hadn’t actually thought it would come to this.
But then…
Swoosh!
“...!”
Something suddenly flew at McDowell like a murderous arrow. He instinctively twisted to one side to dodge it. A tremendous gust of wind followed, barely missing McDowell but still cutting him on the collar.
He tumbled and drew his sword.
“Who is it?!”
His demand was met with an eerie silence; it...
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