The flight speed of the Warship Bird was 418 kiloters per hour. Unless intercepted or shot down, no large target could successfully evade at this speed.
Violet possessed first-rate alchemical gunpowder formulas and destructive power. Combined with Byron’s exceptional deploynt capability, it constituted a terrifying deterrent worthy of the na "Great Good Man."
In the blink of an eye, dozens of "Blood and Fire Sing As One" shells rained down like a teor shower onto the entire reef island.
BOOM—!!!
Amidst a deafening explosion, blinding flas shot into the sky. The beautiful sea nymphs, charming smiles still on their faces, had no ti to react before their expressions froze forever, and they turned to ash one after another. Their delightful singing also ca to an abrupt halt.
A blazing fire dragon surged skyward, seeming intent on burning a massive hole through the dense sea fog. Everything on the island reef, whether mangrove trees or the beautiful sea nymphs, was instantly shredded and, in the intense heat, imdiately reduced to ashes. Even the island reef itself violently fractured and broke apart under the fierce explosions, as if bleeding profusely.
Only then did the sailors on duty realize that the place where the sea nymphs dwelled was no island reef at all, but a gigantic sea turtle. This colossal, ridged sea turtle, its shell covered in marine growths, had ford a symbiotic relationship with a group of sea nymphs. The forr carried the latter across the seas in search of prey, while the latter used their songs to lure victims, and then they would share the feast.
Today, however, they t their match. They were pulverized in an instant, victims of the combat philosophy—"Waste no words, just blow it up!"—embraced by one who suffered from "insufficient firepower phobia" and by a "Gunpowder Artist."
As they matured, they increasingly embodied the prophecy: "The glory of the North Bay Folks will one day be rekindled by blood and flas."
Two direct descendants of the Bayfolk casually dusted off their hands and announced to the entire ship, "The danger is cleared. *The Golden Deer* will continue forward."
Perhaps it was an illusion, but after that explosion, the surrounding shipping lanes suddenly beca much quieter. Clearly, individuals who would "blow things up" at the slightest disagreent had thoroughly frightened away other sinister entities lurking in the shadows.
The power hierarchy of this world was a known quantity. Having reached the Middle Sequence, they wouldn’t be experts in one place only to beco novices elsewhere. A Sacred Relic warship, with nearly a dozen Middle Sequence Transcendents aboard, could dominate most waters.
Byron made an entry in the Sailing Logbook and began to impart his business acun to his pirate officers:
"If you want to get rich, build roads first. And after the roads are built, if a place truly wants to develop, the first order of business is to clear out the bandits and local tyrants who control them.
"If the casualty rate on this shipping route is too high, it will undoubtedly dampen the enthusiasm of rchant ships and whaling vessels, hindering our Westwind Express from prospering.
"Even if we were to take ten thousand steps back and return to our old profession, controlling mariti routes and engaging in no-capital ventures, we must also ensure that after ’collecting taxes,’ our clients can safely reach their destinations, so they can return and continuously provide us with money.
"The principles of business in this world are all interconnected. A business built on one-ti transactions with no repeat custors is dood to fail. Robbery is no exception.
"Following standard procedure, the various nations would need to organize joint patrol fleets to periodically conduct large-scale sweeps on new shipping routes, to eliminate all Evil Spirits and Bizarre creatures."
It can be said that every Nautical Chart in this world was drawn with the blood of generations of Adventurers and Navigators. Only after generations of seafarers cleansed these routes could the charts finally be used for large-scale comrcial navigation.
He had the Barnacle Crabs and ammonite snails; others who ca later would not. Clearing even a little danger was better than nothing. Even after *The Jackdaw* sent a distress signal, Byron still prepared to proceed steadily, unwilling to let it disrupt his established plan.
The forr "Bone Gobble Joker," Koraskin, had already proven with his own life how dangerous the vicinity of Fortress Bridgehead was. After "Hawkeye" Jas Kent’s capture, whether they waited one day or two made little difference. If there was still ti, he would make an effort to save them. If it was already too late, it could only be blad on the Creator for not showing favor. As the captain, Byron’s primary responsibility was to himself and his crew.
「...」
Byron, still proceeding as planned, was oblivious to the fact that south of the Celestial Orbital Belt, on another island not far from Fortress Bridgehead, soone was desperately waiting for him. That person, however, was not the imperiled "Hawkeye" Jas Kent, but rather... "Nightmare" Yengade!
Still dressed in formal attire, a gentleman with gold-rimd glasses perched on his nose, he now looked impatient, glancing northward from ti to ti.
Why is it taking so long? I’ve gleaned intelligence about that bastard from the dreams of Adventurers. He possesses a Sea Monster, the ’Barnacle Crab,’ capable of Deep Sea Leap. I know the specifics of this type of Sea Monster: three tis a day, one thousand kiloters per leap. With the coordinates, shouldn’t he have arrived by now? Even if long-distance teleportation is prone to errors, why is there still no sign of him? Weren’t they saying he’s a ’Great Good Man,’ always helping others and never himself? Could he have gone to save soone else en route, temporarily unable to attend to matters here?
Before Yengade could comprehend what unexpected situation had arisen, a mirror ford from condensing water vapor suddenly materialized before him. On the other side, the image of an ancient dragon-headed warship, characteristic of the North Bay Folks, appeared. An ugly figure stood at its bow. It had a fish’s head on a human body—a half-human, half-fish, half-frog-like creature. Its primary color was grayish-green, with a smooth white belly. Its webbed fingers and toes were covered in scales. Its bulging fish eyes had no eyelids, and the gills on its neck quivered, occasionally emitting a sound.
He spoke with a command, "Yengade, imdiately consolidate the forces from the subordinate towns and rendezvous with . The Church will utilize the great power of the two great Old Gods’ Secret Realms to ambush those Adventurers along the line of Luanyun City and the whaling grounds."
Upon hearing this, Yengade urgently responded, "But, Archbishop, I’ve just laid a trap, preparing to ambush that detestable ’The Sea Hunter’ who ruined our plans, right here on our ho turf! I personally visited the International Port and received the final transmission from ’Infinite Evolver’ Balboa. I know how troubleso this fellow is. Most importantly, he’s also a North Bay Folk, potentially vying with us for dominance over the prophecy concerning the racial revival of the Mad Hunt Deity. We must kill him!"
The mutated Fishman on the other side had no intention of hearing him out. He simply waved his hand and stated domineeringly, "Yengade, rember your place! I am the Archbishop of the Deep Dive Church for the Southern Continent! My bloodline Affiliated are in Black Tide Town. Leave them there; they are more than sufficient to deal with such a minor Third Order character."
The powerful aura of a Fifth Order Transcendent and one of superior bloodline, emanating from the Archbishop, pressed down heavily through the water mirror.
Yengade had no choice but to bow his head deeply, screaming silently in his heart, Dagon, you will regret this!
User Comments
0 comments from readers