"What a pity."
Northern snowfield.
Brant Fairbanks stood cloaked in the vast white snow, gazing at the burning car in front and the corpses scattered around, his face full of sorrow.
"Principal, Ragnar Frost is already on his way back. Half an hour ago, I received a call; they are less than five hundred kilometers away from the city-state."
Tennyson Hawthorne stood behind Brant Fairbanks, squinting his eyes, and spoke viciously, "Otherwise, I can arrange for the academy's confidants to ambush and kill them on the way?"
Without hearing from Mateo Miller, Brant Fairbanks already felt that something was amiss.
So, taking Tennyson Hawthorne, he quietly left the main force and turned back.
Who knew they would see this scene?
Mateo Miller was killed, and all the disciples wearing Black-wind Academy clothes lay dead in pools of blood.
Even the traitor, Joaquim Gonzalez, had his throat slit by a flying knife!
