TRPM 178

chapter 178

The fighter jets shattered along with the surrounding space.

While space eventually mended itself with time, the jets did not.

Their fragments, torn apart, were helplessly caught by gravity and began to plummet.

I admired the direction those fighters were headed.

‘Oh… not bad.’

Because, against all odds, some of them had survived.

It wasn’t because I had gone easy on them—no, I had been aiming to kill them seriously.

‘They escaped my attack range using their fighters’ emergency ejection system, then latched onto the jetpacks built into it to keep themselves airborne.’

Well, that made sense. Falling straight down here meant hitting not land, but the Black Fog’s ocean territory.

If they wanted a chance at survival after being shot down, they needed equipment that allowed at least some degree of free flight.

“(Increase output—get as far away from him as possible!)”
“(But… if we boost power any further, we won’t have enough fuel to reach land!)”
“(If we don’t escape now, we’ll die by the Artist’s sword before we ever hit the ocean!)”

So most Oracle operatives with jetpacks tried desperately to put distance between us.

I raised my sword again, intending to cut them down.

But then—

“(No. We will not run.)”
“(What?)”

One Oracle operative’s words changed the mood.

“(Even if we push the jetpacks, they’re just jetpacks. Didn’t you see the Artist flying? There’s no escaping someone like that with these.)”
“(Branch Leader….)”

So, not just an ordinary member—he was branch leader level.

For the record, those jetpacks were by no means slow. Judging by how they easily kept pace with airplanes in flight, they were clearly faster than any conventional aircraft.

‘If these were just science-based jetpacks, they wouldn’t have that much output. But mixing science with magic, psychic power, and sorcery… that’s what makes it possible.’

The precision of the magic and sorcery, in particular, was impressive.

I could use magic and sorcery in my own way, but I had to admit Oracle was several steps ahead of me in that regard.

Meanwhile…

“(Escape is impossible. So… let’s make our end a spectacular one.)”
“(Spectacular… I like that.)”
“(Wounding the pride of the world’s strongest Artist? I like it even more!)”

While I marveled at their jetpacks, the Oracle operatives were instead talking like that.

They knew they were going to die, so they resolved to charge me head-on.

Whummm…

“…!”

Suddenly, I felt my body grow heavier.

This was—

[It wasn’t just internal energy… but magic power.]
[It would not obey her will.]
[It was so heavy that even moving a little drained her completely.]
[Yeon Mirae, feeling this, understood at last how these terrorists could even stand against an Aura Master.]

I remembered what Yeon Mirae once told me.

That some Oracle equipment could affect even Aura Masters.

‘Seems the output has increased since she last faced it.’

My internal energy wasn’t just weighed down—it was steadily dispersing.

It felt like some “energy-scattering poison” straight out of a wuxia novel.

Still, it wasn’t a problem for me.

Stagger…

…Not for me—but for others, yes.

‘Arti%!@# sir! Right now the tele#(! is !%)#(!@…!’

The plane suddenly lost balance.

And Arthur’s urgent telepathic message reached me.

Likely, the Oracle’s device disrupted the telekinetics in the rescue team, breaking their hold on the plane.

‘I’ll handle this—once your telekinesis comes back, stabilize the plane immediately.’

‘……’

‘Arthur?’

No reply.

Then I realized. Arthur wasn’t human—he was a doll.

A doll animated by Rachel’s magic.

If the magic inside him had dispersed, then right now he was just a lifeless doll.

Clicking my tongue, I glared at the Oracle operatives with jetpacks.

‘I doubt they intended this outcome… but still.’

Either way, destroying or disabling their devices should fix the problem.

Shhhk!

I darted forward, piercing the heart of the operative with the largest device.

Then I swiftly cut both him and his equipment apart.

‘…No.’

Even after destroying his gear, I still felt heavy, and my energy continued to scatter.

Mirae had said the Oracle’s devices used to be quite large. That’s why I’d targeted the one with the bulkiest equipment.

But it seemed Oracle had succeeded in miniaturizing them.

“(Fire!)”

Sure enough, they had already aimed their guns at me, predicting I’d strike the largest unit first.

Meaning that man had been bait.

‘Using their own comrade as bait… they’re truly something else.’

Not just the one who set him up, but the bait himself—he knowingly carried the largest device, knowing it meant dying first.

Unafraid of death.

‘…Reminds me of the Oracle operative I met in Australia.’

Even as his subordinates died, even as he himself lay dying, he gazed at me with joy.

Declaring the one who would thwart Oracle’s prophecy had appeared.

Most operatives only thought of making achievements to earn their way to headquarters on Mars.

But never mind that now—

Ratatatatatata…!

Their muzzles flared.

They knew ordinary bullets wouldn’t work on me, so those were likely AM rounds—explosive upon impact.

I had to avoid those no matter what.

Thunk! Thunk!

I evaded smoothly, then hurled shards of the gear I’d just cut apart.

The high-speed fragments shot toward them.

Some flew straight into gun barrels, detonating the weapons.

Some pierced their jetpacks, sending them spinning out of control.

Some skewered their heads, killing them instantly.

“(W-what…!)”

Most were slain or stripped of equipment.

Only one survived—shielded by defensive gear.

“(You, then.)”
“(Hiiik?!)”

No offensive equipment, only defense… clearly the one protecting something vital.

And in this case, the device mimicking an energy-scattering poison.

“(P-please… don’t kill me…!)”

So where was the bravado from earlier, about wounding my pride?

Some offered their lives without fear, while others clawed pitifully to survive.

Oracle was a collection of people, after all—all sorts gathered.

Or maybe he had resolved to die, but the sight of his comrades being cut down broke his will.

Either way, I had no intention of sparing him.

Shhk!
“(Ghhhk!)”
Crackle… hiss…!

My Harmony Divine Sword pierced both him and his gear at once.

Instantly, the oppressive weight lifted.

I checked by sending a telepathic call to Arthur.

‘Arthur? Has your magic returned?’

‘……’

‘…Guess not.’

My dispersed internal energy did not recover.

The rescue team was likely the same.

Which meant Arthur would remain powerless until Rachel recharged him.

“(Damn…! Damn it…!)”
“(Quick, use mental recovery potions—hurry!)”

The telekinetics stabilizing the plane wouldn’t be recovering anytime soon.

The aircraft, already low on fuel and flying only thanks to their powers, dipped nose-first, descending.

The rescue team’s plane lowered altitude as well, following it.

“…Haaah…”

I sighed, then caught up to the plummeting plane.

Slipping beneath its body—

‘I never thought I’d end up doing something this ridiculous, straight out of an old superhero movie.’

Placing my hands against the fuselage—

“Hrghh…!”

I began holding the plane up with sheer strength.

It was the first time I had ever tried to physically support something this heavy with nothing but raw power.

But—

‘Not too difficult…’

Calculating with my remaining energy and the time until we cleared the Mediterranean, I knew I could hold on.

Many nearby sensed that Han Gunwoo was holding the aircraft aloft from below.

Not only the awakened in the rescue team, but even the passengers inside the plane—unable to see beneath it—could feel it.

“(So this is the Artist…)”

They had been weakened by Oracle’s equipment, unable to summon their power.

Even Aura Master Han Gunwoo wasn’t unaffected—but he still bore the weight of the aircraft without strain.

Seeing that, the rescue team’s awakened were left in awe, unable to speak.

“(Don’t just stand there! Focus on recovering—whether it’s magic, mental strength, whatever! Be ready to help the Artist!)”

Snapped back by one member’s shout, the rescue team shook off their stupor.

Yes—they were the rescue team.

To just watch without acting while he bore the burden alone—it was shameful.

Even if the main credit would always belong to him—

“(We have to help, even a little!)”
“(But when did Arthur collapse again?)”
“(I don’t know! He looks bad, so just lay him on the back seat!)”

Once they recovered, the rescue team quickly moved to assist Han Gunwoo.

Mages cast body-strengthening spells on him and lightening spells on the plane.

Psychics joined him in holding the aircraft steady.

Those without the means to help prepared to guide passengers once they landed.

“(We’ve reached land! Signal the Artist—guide him to the nearest airport!)”

And so, the hijacking incident came to an end, with the plane safely landing at an airport.