"Hoo—"
Floating at an altitude of 11,000 meters, Richard gently exhaled. The breath had just left his body by a few centimeters before it instantly froze into ice crystals, clattering down into a sea of flames below.
In Richard's field of vision, nearly a hundred miniature Magic Tracking Missiles had exploded, generating flames that continuously rose, completely engulfing the figures of the four people including Cheka.
This should have settled things... Richard thought with a slight raise of his eyebrow. In his view, even if the miniature Magic Tracking Missiles hadn't killed the four, they should have lost the majority of their combat ability and would be unable to track him anymore—after all, they were already seriously injured before they ascended.
This should allow for a safe departure.
Richard's expression relaxed slightly as he watched the flames below drift slowly toward the ground like a Fire Cloud, and seeing no sign of the four for a long time, he turned to leave.
