One after another, the Inquisitors appeared in the streets under the fleet admiral's office. They glanced at the destruction brought about by their spells while thinking about how their target managed to escape from their grasps.
Leonhart turned his gaze towards the broken window and saw the height of the fall. Without magic, he would have died upon hitting the ground. The fact that the fleet admiral managed to survive meant that something was amiss with him.
"It seems that the fleet admiral of the United Navy isn't merely a weak human with no magical capabilities. Some of our intel about him were wrong. After all, is it normal for a human with no mana to survive such a fall?"
He expressed to his subordinates, who nodded in agreement. The circumstance of their target was strange. But this was a world where strangeness was the ordinary. As such, it was easy for them to adapt.
