Chapter 535

Their enemies had the advantage of concealment, making it easy to ambush them. Callum's skills were excellent; it was difficult for ordinary people to trap him. His capture indicated an exceptionally powerful opponent who caught him off guard.

"In the water tank," Odalys said suddenly.

Her words prompted Percival and Orson to lean over and peer into the tank. There was nothing inside except water and green moss.

Orson's lips moved, as if to retort, but he remembered how quickly she had brought them there and closed his mouth. Some things, he realized, defied logic. Their arrival itself was inexplicable; no one would believe their story. Yet, Odalys had transported them instantaneously—a feat that filled him with almost overwhelming admiration.

Odalys said nothing, but reached out and pressed the side of the water tank. Secretly exerting force, she caused the water to shake violently, splashing a foot and a half high. Stepping back slightly, she raised her hand.

"Bang!" With a backhand throw, she sent the splashed water to the ground, where it transformed into bright red blood.

"Stop pretending! Reveal yourselves!" Odalys shouted angrily.

She drew a talisman in the air and threw it toward the tank. It landed on the surface, and after a few seconds of silence, fell to the ground with a "bang," spilling over a dozen figures onto the ground.

"Damn!" Orson gasped, staring at the figures strewn about. He initially thought he was seeing double, but closer inspection revealed more than a dozen people in black, soaked and covered in blood. Their faces were pale as they collapsed.

Percival strode forward and helped Callum to his feet. Callum was unconscious, his eyes tightly shut, his hand still clutching a deformed phone—evidence of a failed attempt to call for help, resulting in injury to both phone and hand. The phone was destroyed, and the back of his hand was severely injured, blood oozing out, yet he still clung to it. Before losing consciousness, he must have tried to send Percival a message, but it was too late.

"Lay him down," Odalys said softly, watching the scene.

Percival gently laid Callum on the ground. Orson helped the other guards, each bearing injuries. Odalys's heart sank as she examined their wounds.

"Their breathing and senses were blocked. If we'd been half an hour later, they would have suffocated," Odalys explained.

Percival checked Callum's breathing, finding it had stopped. However, his pulse was still beating.

"His pulse is beating, but he's not breathing, and his body is getting cold. I've never seen anything like it," Orson stated, equally surprised.

The two men stepped back as Odalys raised her hand, seemingly preparing something. They could feel the wind outside intensifying, gathering in the air. Dark clouds filled the sky, pulling in mist from the distant mountains. In an instant, the courtyard was shrouded in fog, which then rained down on the injured men.

They were enveloped in the fog for a time. Odalys stepped back, watching as the fog seemed to be absorbed into their bodies. Slowly, it dispersed, and peace returned to the courtyard.

"Cough!" Callum coughed, struggling to rise before collapsing again from weakness.

"Orson, you're good at medicine. Help them," Odalys instructed.

Orson hurried forward to tend to the guards' wounds. Despite the desolate surroundings, he quickly found herbs to stop the bleeding, applying them to the wounds and bandaging them simply. All the bleeding was eventually stopped.

"Callum is the most injured. He likely took the brunt of their attack," Odalys said, lightly pressing on his chest.

"Ugh," Callum groaned, spitting out blood. He calmed down afterward, as if the stagnant blood had been released. Odalys then treated his wounds.

Percival and Orson cleaned the area, carried the men inside, and let them rest. Odalys remained outside, staring thoughtfully at the broken water tank.

"They hid people in the tank, concealing their senses, letting them drown, and erasing their breaths. What were they trying to do?" she murmured. If she hadn't arrived, no one would have known.

Percival's face was grim as he spoke. "It seems Callum's investigation involved Simpson, and he hit the mark. If we dig deeper, we can expose him."

"To avoid exposure, he wanted to kill Callum and the others to silence them," Percival surmised. He couldn't think of another explanation.

"But killing them didn't require a tank. And such a small tank? More than a dozen people? It's unbelievable!" Orson exclaimed.

The seemingly dirty water had been blood.

The thought sent a chill down Orson's spine. "It's an illusion. Drowning them, blocking their senses, suffocating them. They were injured; the bleeding wouldn't stop in the water. Without prompt treatment, coupled with suffocation, they'd bleed out, their bodies swelling and rotting."

Percival listened, his dark eyes narrowing, murderous intent flashing in his gaze. He shuddered, remembering Callum's nearly crushed hand. Thankfully, the bones were intact. Otherwise, Callum's hand would have been useless. He clenched his fists, suppressing his rage. He could accept the attacks on himself, but not the abuse of his bodyguards. He wouldn't allow it.