Chapter 127: Which Is Greater
The third mountain’s laboratory was their final target, its scale rivaling the previous two. Wick shattered the entrance with a burst of runes, the rockface crumbling under his power.
Inside, they dispatched the soldiers with ruthless efficiency, their blades flashing in the dim light of mana orbs, while Wick was able to rescue every experiment who didn’t show any signs of explosion. With Wick taking the brunt of the explosion and collapse, Ralph and the Dawnless members were able to escape with the survivors.
"How many?" Ralph asked, catching his breath, the air thick with the stench of charred flesh and chemicals.
"Forty-two," Wick replied, his tracker pulsing faintly.
A Dawnless member glanced at the survivors, many of them children, their small forms shivering in the cold. "But, sir, what do we do with them?"
Ralph’s gaze softened, lingering on the frail figures. Why did I save them? "Haa, I don’t know," he admitted, looking skyward. ’Brother, where are you?’ With the trackers lost, this search was almost vain, but maybe it was a good thing they didn’t have the trackers. He couldn’t bear the sight of his brother turning to mush or exploding.
"Let’s return."
With Wick’s runes cloaking their movements, they transported the survivors through the night, their steps muffled by the forest’s damp earth.
At the hidden mansion, they found the other Dawnless teams returned, their faces grim. The Mistars waited outside, their curiosity palpable. Though uninformed of the mission’s purpose, their movements weren’t restricted, and they’d been probing in their own way.
"Set up tents and space them out," Ralph ordered, striding into the mansion. He couldn’t put them in case one explodes and consumes the other. "What happened on your end?" he asked as soon as they reached the meeting room, and reports flooded in.
Rector summarized, "It was the same everywhere, glass tubes, figures exploding. But a few didn’t dissolve."