"What is this?!"
The agent, legs trapped, recognized the danger but could offer no effective resistance.
The World Government's structure is vast, spanning CP1 to CP9, plus the elite CP0. While they command a large force of agents, not all are combat specialists.
The white-suited CP0 agents, known as the Celestial Dragons' Shield, are the strongest, but they don't participate in this hunting game—at least not as hounds.
These agents are the lowest tier. Their combat skills surpass only Spandam, the ultimate nepotist, and they handle miscellaneous tasks.
Though trained in combat, proficient with firearms, and loyal to the Celestial Dragons, they remain mortal.
They excel at intimidating the defenseless, but their performance in a real crisis is questionable.
"What are you staring at? Help me open it!"
The metal petals had sliced into his flesh, and pain drove him to struggle, but no one dared assist. The purple halo spinning beneath the petals looked ominous.
Bang!
A gunshot rang out from behind. Eladin mercilessly shot the trapped agent.
"Too much noise," he muttered.
"Saint Eladin, you—"
The remaining agents, shocked, wanted to protest but feared becoming the next target. They didn't even touch their fallen comrade.
After a moment's hesitation, they backed off.
"Foolish pariah, using such a lowly tool to hinder me. I don't care about points for a quick kill—I want to torture him!"
To the Celestial Dragons, resistance is a grave insult. Eladin, fixated on this defiance, ignored the trap's significance and pressed forward.
To him, the lotus was just an ordinary trap.
Even Ivankov and the others were confused. They'd killed a guard, but it was the Celestial Dragons' doing.
"Orlan, your device seems faulty. What now?"
"Faulty? My work doesn't have such basic flaws. Neither would Kada Jin's. His obsession with killing as art is almost pathological."
Kada Jin, the playwright, views murder as art. Orlan, who once hunted him, studied his seized weapons.
These lotus traps are Jin's tools for his deadly art. For such a perfectionist "artist," mistakes are unthinkable.
Orlan enhanced these traps, learning from others' strengths to address his weaknesses.
Especially with external tools. Power itself is neutral—whether a glimmer or a Hextech core, its use defines its value.
In the lotus trap just triggered, Orlan extended the explosion's fuse. Had anyone tried to rescue the agent, the effect would've been greater.
But Orlan underestimated the Celestial Dragons' callousness.
Boom!
After a delay, the lotus trap detonated as planned, triggering a series of rapid explosions.
Traps activate in multiple ways: stepping, timing, or manual detonation. The first lotus's bloom was just the start. Once positioned, mechanical lotuses in the canyon bloomed one after another.
Purple smoke filled the air, explosions tore flesh, and the lotus's anesthetic took effect.
"Protect Saint Eladin!"
"Saint Eladin, it's an ambush—run!"
To capture them alive, the traps used less explosive and were spaced out, sparing total annihilation.
A few agents remained but dared not flee. Dying here meant only their deaths; letting Eladin die would doom their families.
Eladin ignored their pleas. Unlike typical Celestial Dragons with glass helmets, he wore a gas mask, filtering out harmful gases and, by chance, the anesthetic.
He wasn't just another weak Celestial Dragon. Realizing this wasn't a mere obstacle but a planned trap, he reacted.
"Out of my way! Useless fools! How could they let these untouchables get explosives? The navy's incompetence grows!"
Boom!
Before Eladin could finish, another explosion erupted. The agent who'd urged him to run was now just a lower half, his upper body gone, only bloodstains proving he'd existed.
"Filthy blood on me!" Eladin raged, his mask's goggles stained red, but the assault continued.
Boom!
Another blast tore a hole in the ground. The last agent beside Eladin fell.
"Over here, you damned pariah!"
Unafraid of the agent's death, Eladin drew dual knives and charged toward the sound.
On a nearby hill, a group stared at Orlan in disbelief.
"What? Never seen a sniper before? Why use swords when guns can solve it?"
The agents, regardless of their reasons for serving the Celestial Dragons, became accomplices upon landing on the island. Orlan showed no mercy.
"No, this thing—you call it a gun?"
Sea technology is uneven. Flintlock rifles firing round projectiles are standard.
Self-proclaimed snipers rely on skill, not equipment. Scopes are rare.
Ivankov eyed the massive weapon on Orlan's shoulder, its muzzle fist-sized, unable to reconcile it with sniping.
"Single shot, one-hit kill. That's a sniper."
"Joking, Orlan—watch out!"
"I found you, sly rat!"
Eladin emerged from the smoke below, his blades glinting as he slashed at Orlan.
To Eladin, a gunman hiding at a distance must be weak in close combat. Reaching Orlan meant an easy capture and a taste of Celestial Dragon wrath.
Ivankov and the others moved to help, but Eladin's blades froze mid-air.
Orlan now held two sharp blades of his own.
"You misunderstood. I never said I can't use a knife."