Chapter 72: Poor Julius Little Adventure...

Liberators' Base...

The Liberator forces standing guard at their base tensed when they noticed a figure rapidly approaching at high speed.

One of the guards quickly raised his telescope, peering through it.

What he saw left him in shock.

Horn—!

"Hurry up! Clear the road! Open the gate! The Elders are back!"

Without hesitation, the guard sounded the alarm, his voice ringing across the base.

Soldiers near the heavily sealed gate—enchanted with protection spells by Gandalf himself—rushed to clear the way.

The seals, which were normally painstakingly complex to undo, were being disarmed in a hurry.

Clank— Clank—

Thud—!

The moment the gate opened, a massive black panther leaped through, roaring as it charged in.

On its broad back were Dumbledore and Gandalf—both gravely injured.

Dumbledore's complexion was deathly pale, a clear sign of how dire their condition was.

Thud— Thud—

As soon as they entered, Dumbledore slid off the panther's back, his voice ringing out in a stern, commanding tone:

"Everyone, abandon the base! Take what you can, destroy the rest. We leave no evidence for the enemy!"

His words sent a wave of urgency through the entire camp.

The Liberators sprang into action, moving like a war machine.

Supplies were packed in haste, while anything that couldn't be taken was burned or shattered.

Twist— Crack—

As Dumbledore and Gandalf dismounted, the black panther's form began to distort—its body twisting unnaturally.

Bones shifted. Fur withdrew.

The large beast shrank in on itself.

In its place stood McGonagall, her expression grim.

She had used her Animagus transformation to carry them out of the battlefield safely.

Without a word, all three of them entered the base, their expressions dark.

Their surprise attack—which was meant to rescue Sirius Black—had completely backfired.

They had barely escaped with their lives.

The silence was heavy as Gandalf lay on a stone slab, several Liberator medics tending to his wounds.

His chest and face were covered in cuts and bruises, remnants of the battle they had just fled.

Through gritted teeth, he broke the silence:

"Dumbledore... I swear there is a spy among us."

His tone was sharp, filled with barely controlled anger.

"____"

"____"

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall went silent, exchanging uneasy glances.

Sigh—

Dumbledore rubbed his temples before placing a gentle yet firm hand on Gandalf's shoulder.

"Calm down, my friend. We will investigate. But right now, we must focus on evacuating this base."

Gandalf's frown deepened, his fingers curling into fists.

Grit—

"Just wait… whoever you are."

His mind burned with suspicion and fury.

"You won't have an easy time when I find you."

Even though McGonagall and Dumbledore were not as severely injured as Gandalf, they were both exhausted.

Especially McGonagall.

Her strength had been completely drained, and now she lay on the bed beside Gandalf, barely able to keep her eyes open as medics tended to her wounds.

"____"

"____"

"____"

A heavy silence filled the room.

Their expressions were grim, their bodies weighed down by the crushing failure they had just suffered.

They had miscalculated terribly—and the cost was not small.

How many of their men had escaped the pursuit?

How many had been captured?

And most importantly… how many had betrayed them?

"It seems you all have had quite a rough time."

A calm yet authoritative voice suddenly broke the silence, cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a blade.

The words carried a tone of pity, yet there was something almost mocking underneath.

"____"

"____"

"____"

Instantly, every single person in the room snapped to attention, their bodies going rigid with tension.

All eyes whipped toward the source of the voice.

Tap— Tap—

Tap— Tap—

The once busy room turned deathly silent.

The only sound was the measured footsteps of a man walking toward them.

As he stepped forward, faces paled.

Eyes widened in shock.

Even Gandalf, who was never one to hold his tongue, sat frozen, his expression one of pure disbelief.

Because the man approaching them was someone they had never expected to face so soon.

Someone they were completely unprepared for.

The current Wizard King of the Clover Kingdom—Julius Novachrono.

Julius Novachrono—the strongest wizard of the Clover Kingdom.

A man so powerful that even the king himself had to give him respect in political matters.

Rumors whispered that he was even stronger than the legendary First Wizard King.

And now, he stood before them, his presence suffocating the room.

Those who recognized him instantly went rigid, their expressions ugly.

Those who didn't simply looked around, confused at the sudden shift in atmosphere—but noticing the fear in their comrades' faces, their own grimoires snapped open, ready to attack at a moment's notice.

"How...? How did you get in here without any of us noticing?"

With great difficulty, Gandalf broke the silence, his voice hoarse.

The sheer fact that Julius was already inside their hideout, standing right in front of them, without any of them realizing his presence until he spoke, sent a chill down his spine.

This was not something he could simply brush off.

"Hmm... good question."

Julius rubbed his chin in thought before shrugging casually.

"Well, to put it simply... I've been waiting for you all for quite some time."

His lighthearted response only deepened the unease in the room.

Then, out of nowhere—

Hahaha!

A sharp laugh rang out, breaking the suffocating tension.

"No wonder our plan failed so miserably..."

Dumbledore's lips curled into a forced smirk as he studied Julius' expression closely.

"It seems the Wizard King himself decided to handle us personally. But... did you know?"

His voice lowered, carrying an ominous tone.

"While we sit here talking, your precious King's life is in danger. If you have any funny ideas, you might want to think twice... because your little King's fate is already sealed."

A dangerous glint flickered in Dumbledore's eyes.

Even if Julius somehow saw through their ambush, Dumbledore was betting everything that he did not know about the assassination they had arranged for the King.

If he had known, he would have been there—not here.

"No matter what... a Wizard King should put his King's life above all else, right?"

It was a desperate gamble, but it was all he had left.

From her spot, McGonagall watched the exchange silently, fully understanding what Dumbledore was attempting.

Her expression hardened as she joined in.

"I hope you make a wise decision, Wizard King."

Her serious gaze met Julius'.

"If you try to stop us, our men will not hesitate to kill that boy."

The threat hung heavily in the air.

But instead of anger or panic, Julius— Laughed.

Loudly.

Hahahaha!

Holding his stomach, he chuckled uncontrollably, as if he had just heard the funniest joke of his life.

His laughter echoed through the room, sending waves of unease through Dumbledore, Gandalf, and McGonagall.

A horrible feeling crept into Dumbledore's gut.

Something was wrong.

Finally, Julius calmed his laughter and gazed at them with a knowing smirk.

"You think I'm the one who uncovered your plan?"

He shook his head.

"No, no… it wasn't me."

A chill ran through the room as his next words dropped like a hammer—

"It was the current Honorable King—Benjamin Salvador Kira."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock.

"And as for your little assassination attempt… he already knows."

Julius' smile widened.

"In fact, he said he'd take care of it himself."

The air grew heavier.

"For his safety, talented Magic Knights, a Captain, and the Royal Guards are all by his side. Do you really think... it's that easy to touch him?"

The moment Julius finished speaking, his entire demeanor shifted.

The easy-going aura vanished, replaced by an oppressive force that weighed down on the entire room.

A crushing mana pressure descended upon them, making the walls groan under its force.

Faces turned pale.

Even Gandalf and Dumbledore—powerful wizards in their own right—felt their legs buckle slightly.

"Impossible..."

Dumbledore took a step back, his face filled with disbelief.

"How could that brat of a King have known?!"

His mind raced, struggling to process it.

To think Benjamin Salvador Kira had not only discovered their plan but also chose to face the assassins himself—

It was unthinkable.

Dumbledore's fists clenched as he let out a low growl.

"No matter how powerful you are, Wizard King—"

He lifted his wand, his eyes burning with resolve.

"You are alone."

His voice echoed through the hideout.

"This place is filled with my men. You are surrounded!"

All around, grimoires opened—pages flipping violently as spells were prepared.

Even Gandalf stood up, gritting his teeth, ready to fight despite his injuries.

"I don't believe you can take every single one of us at the same time!"

Julius simply closed his eyes and sighed.

"Time Magic: Chrono Stasis."

In an instant, a wave of magic expanded outward, engulfing every enemy in the hideout.

Suddenly— Everyone who had intended to attack Julius was now suspended in the air, trapped inside glowing spheres with golden Roman numerals orbiting them.

Their bodies remained motionless, their expressions frozen in mid-action—

Caught in a loop of time, where they would relive the same moment endlessly, unable to move forward.

Even those in the restrooms—who had nothing to do with the fight—were bound and frozen in place.

Julius let out a tired sigh, shaking his head.

"Well... looks like my fun ends here."

With that, he vanished.

As if he and his companions had never been there at all.

And the hideout remained eerily silent, filled only with frozen figures, trapped in an eternal loop of their final mistake.

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(Author's POV)

(A/N):Thanks for reading the chapter!

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