Sword of Dawnbreaker Chapter 749 - 748: Returned to the Deep-Sea… But the Deep-Se

Owen Dyson quietly gazed at the stone bed, watching as the black-robed creature turned into a pool of murky seawater, flowing around the stone bed.

When the murky seawater reached the ground, he stepped back half a step without expression, avoiding the liquid from staining his boots.

A sll mixed with the stench of seaweed and mud spread throughout the chamber.

"Can you track his soul?" Earl Owen turned his head and asked the mage in charge here.

"The soul has disappeared," replied the mage dressed in a moon-patterned magic robe, sketching a complex magic symbol on his chest, his eyes glinting faintly with silver light as he scanned the entire chamber and shook his head, "but it didn’t vanish instantly—there are no remnants here, that soul seems to have been taken by sothing."

"...A soul taken away, that’s even more intriguing..." Earl Owen furrowed his brow, then slowly relaxed, "For now, let’s not spread the news about this creature, to prevent causing panic. Master Petori, please thoroughly purify this area afterward, including this magic robe and that half talisman, to prevent them from retaining the curse power from the deep sea."

The mage lowered his head, respectfully responding: "Yes, my lord."

Owen Dyson nodded, withdrawing his gaze from the stone bed, softly exhaling.

The dense fishy sll seed to dissipate a bit.

"Anyway, those Sons of the Storm who once betrayed the Dyson Family seem to have run into so trouble this ti... It’s quite ironic, they turned to the deep sea, yet the deep sea doesn’t seem to treat them kindly," the ruler of Mobius Port suddenly laughed, "That does fit the outco for evil cult followers."

"My lord," said the mage nad Petori, "our route exploration plan..."

The black-robed creature’s strange condition made people fearful, even the well-versed mages felt apprehensive when faced with the unknown power from the deep sea, the fine scales, webbed hands, and the final transformation into seawater all deeply imprinted in the minds of everyone present. Thinking of the mariti exploration plan actively prepared by Mobius Port under the emperor’s command, Mage Petori couldn’t help but feel anxious.

"Proceed according to the original plan," Owen said, with fearless, challenger gleam in his blue pupils of the border earl, "it’s rely a self-destructive evil cult follower, it mustn’t affect the King’s route exploration plan."

"But the dangers lurking in the deep sea shouldn’t be overlooked..."

"The ocean has never been safe," Owen Dyson looked calmly at the mage, "but we cannot remain on land forever just because it’s safe on land—I will report to the King, giving him a full update on this creature, but the preparations for opening the route must never halt."

"Yes, my lord."

...

Ti at sea is rarely calm, mostly turbulent, always dangerous.

In the eastern waters of the Endless Sea, a naless archipelago is enveloped by storms and Magic Turbulence.

Amidst the darkened sky, seemingly endless thunder and lightning ravaged; each lightning strike illuminated the raging sea surface, and massive cyclones ford a dreadful inverted funnel-like structure over the islands, with the cloud layers ruled by the cyclones connecting the sea surface around the islands, forming a storm barrier like enclosing walls between the sky and the sea.

This dreadful phenonon created by wind, surges, lightning, and Magic Turbulence enveloped the entire archipelago like a cage, looking out from any point within the archipelago, it felt like peering at an endlessly tall and despairing wall from within a cell.

Yet such a horrifying scene is actually commonplace in the boundless ocean.

Only the priests who follow the way of storms know how to find safe routes amidst this raging, seemingly seamless blockade.

A vessel wobbled through the storm, dancing like in a forest of blades, evading all the Magic Turbulence and deadly surges, its surroundings shimring with magical brilliance, massive magic symbols shining on the sides of the ship, granting it astonishing speed. It raced over the most perilous sea, rapidly approaching the largest island at the center of the archipelago.

An eye-catching large temple built with blue boulders like a Pyramid, standing at the mountain top of this island, overlooking the entire sea, floated above with giant magic symbols representing storms and gods. Mighty extraordinary power resisting the storm allowed most parts of the archipelago to maintain basic calm and safety, enabling the island residents to survive in this terrifying sea.

The vessel slowed down at one side of the island, smoothly sailing into an artificial port, mooring closely against the dock.

Many people were already waiting at the port, so dressed in ordinary fisherman’s attire, others wore black or blue long and short robes adorned with storm symbols.

A long plank extended from the ship’s side, a few individuals in storm robes appeared on the ship’s side and stepped onto the dock along the plank.

Behind these storm-robed individuals were warriors wearing enchanted leather armor or chainmail, disguising their faces with oak masks, moving in silence. These soldiers belonging to the Sons of the Storm carried several stretchers, on which humanoid figures wrapped in magic symbol chains and sturdy cords, enveloped in black cloth like mummies, were securely fixed.

The crowd at the dock slightly stirred.

An elderly man dressed in dark gold storm robes, crowned with a Triple Crown of Storms, wielding a heavy Sea Emperor scepter, stepped forward from the crowd. As he passed, people retreated to either side, so with respect whispered: "The Pope is here..." "It’s King Saul..."

Under countless watchful eyes, the Pope of the Sons of the Storm, Saul Stodom, stepped onto the dock, approaching the storm priests disembarking from the ship, his gaze sweeping over the soldiers carrying stretchers, glancing at the bodies fixed on the stretchers.

Sea breezes lifted the cloth wrapping the bodies, revealing fine blue-green scales beneath that black fabric.

A storm priest who seed to hold the highest status stepped forward, respectfully saluting the Pope wielding the Sea Emperor scepter: "Your Eminence."

Pope Saul Stodom nodded slightly, speaking softly: "It seems the hurricane island has also returned to the deep sea..."

"Yes, Hurricane Island, along with two subsidiary islands nearby, all of our compatriots have returned to the deep sea. Thus, the seven islands that lost contact are confird to have fallen," the storm priest spoke heavily, his face filled with sha, "I’m very sorry, Your Majesty, I couldn’t bring any good news."

"No need to feel guilty, human effort has its limits," Pope Saul shook his head, his gaze falling on the stretchers, "So, these are our transford compatriots..."

"Strictly speaking, they are compatriots halfway transford. Their minds are in a chaotic state, currently controlled by strong sedatives, but their bodies are continuously mutating," said the storm priest, "When we first captured them, they had only a few scales on their bodies, but now over sixty percent of their skin is covered, and... they’ve grown webs, with the most severe mutation, their legs have turned into a state between water snakes and fish tails."

"And... still no cause found?"

"Yes, no cause found. The fallen islands showed no signs of attack. Previously, we suspected the sea demons were casting a curse, but they haven’t appeared anywhere near there—unless the sea demons’ supernatural power is strong enough to curse hundreds or even thousands from hundreds of miles away, which is basically impossible from what we know."

As the storm priest spoke, he suddenly lapsed into silence, his expression becoming more solemn.

"Furthermore, Your Majesty, we discovered so other things this ti..."

"Speak here."

"I’m afraid there have been completely transford compatriots," the storm priest lowered his voice a little, "On the night before we left Hurricane Island, a night watch soldier reported seeing several figures moving along the coast with scales covering their bodies, fins on their backs and arms, seemingly having gills, sliding on the sand with tails between water snakes and fish, and quickly jumping into the sea—since only one soldier witnessed it, I can’t be sure if it was just a result of excessive tension or hallucination caused by magic turbulence."

Pope Saul listened to the storm priest’s description, and couldn’t help but glance again at the bodies on the stretchers.

"Sounds like the result of a terrifying deepened mutation."

"Yes."

"Those fully transford compatriots jumped directly into the sea without communicating with you or attacking anyone?"

"Yes, that’s what the night watch soldier reported."

"...I understand," after a few seconds of silence, Pope Saul said softly, "Everyone has worked hard, take so rest first, and we’ll discuss the subsequent matters after you have rested."

"Yes, thank you for your concern."

The storm priest said with lowered head, and sowhat unnaturally twisted his neck.

He suddenly felt a slight itch on the skin near his neck.

As if... scales were about to grow there.

...

In this endless sea, storms are a norm, but tranquil safe zones still exist, such as the Antawen Vessel colony fleet and the Aeo Continent, the wreckage site of the fleet.

In the Antawen wreckage zone and a considerably large surrounding sea area, storms rarely rage. Clear skies or gentle rainy days are the majority, and fatal magic turbulence almost never occurs.

This abnormal phenonon used to pique the curiosity of sea demons. In subsequent long-term research and exploration, deep water technicians proposed a hypothesis—that in ancient tis, during Antawen’s crash, nearly all engines were activated for ergency thrust. The powerful energy released lted nearly a quarter of the Aeo Continent and pierced a part of the continental shelf, permanently altering the seabed near shorelines. Perhaps it was during this process that the local magnetic field underwent permanent change, indirectly leading to an altered magic environnt, thereby creating such a large safe area amidst the storm-ravaged endless sea.

And for the sea demons, the greatest benefit of the good weather near the Antawen Vessel’s sea area is—they can bask in the sun freely in this frequently clear skies place.

However, unexpected events tend to happen on beautiful days.

At the Antawen wreckage zone, the western coastline of Aeo Continent, in the sea demons’ sunbathing area, Petia frowned slightly, watching the uninvited guests claiming the beach.

These creatures, who look very human-like but also have obvious deep-sea resident features, ran briskly across the beach (or slid hurriedly with their smooth, scaly tails), carefree and lively.

Petia slightly tilted her body sideways, and in a low voice asked her maid, "Rosalia, what on earth are these... creatures?"

"Still unclear, they’re all too excited right now, can’t find any who can calm down to communicate," deep sea handmaiden Rosalia replied, her long tail moving irritably across the sand—seeing her usual sunbathing spot being occupied, she felt exceptionally annoyed but dared not vent in front of the queen, "But Master Hesterwe indicates their excitent should gradually subside, and they should calm down to communicate with us."

"The witch says so... then let’s wait till these creatures calm down. Avoid possible conflicts, make future problems harder to handle, let’s wait for communication first," Petia rubbed her forehead, "By the way, did she ntion how to na these creatures? Surely there must be so racial na or tag?"

"Couldn’t find any matching na from the existing database," Rosalia said while swiftly poking pits into the sand with her tail—seeing the creature occupying her sunbathing pit now curl up its tail for a nap made her extraordinarily angry, yet she couldn’t vent in front of the queen, "So Master Hesterwe gave them a na..."

"Oh? What na?"

"Master calls them ’Naga’."

(Oh my god!)