Somewhere in the jungles of the Nahua Continent.
Berger sat on a boulder and casually smoked from his long, wooden pipe. The smoke he exhaled transformed into butterflies and swirled around him.
Before him, a dozen Mana Vortex Magi had gathered. All of them had utterly hostile looks on their faces. But none of them had made a move yet. For they knew the gnome wasn't alone. They looked for the mysterious black wolf in the vicinity, but couldn't find it.
"At ease, boys." Berger waved his hand nonchalantly. "I've sent Blackie to run some errands for me. He isn't here."
The Mana Vortex Magi exchanged glances with one another. Then, one of them stepped forward and declared:
"Magus Glynnhorn, we have come here to apprehend you for the murder of Councilor Vulwin Preskian. Please do not make this difficult. Surrender peacefully and accompany us to the headquarters in Europa."
Berger was slightly taken aback. "So the elf is dead, eh?"
