piratefiction Chapter 276: Conspiracy?
Chapter 276: Conspiracy?
Chapter 276: Conspiracy?
The once calm sea suddenly became violent, with waves rising higher and higher, scattering the pirate fleet that had been cobbled together and pushing it away from the vicinity of the port.
The howling wind carried countless thin, sharp blades, leaving marks on the ship's hull, tearing the sails, and slicing some unfortunate pirates who couldn't dodge in time in half.
Cyril squinted as he gazed at the clouds where lightning crackled across the sky, where the spiritual radiance was most intense, and where the demigods of the Church of Storms were hidden.
"Is this Aquaman making his move?"
"He briefly left the Rothschild Islands, then returned silently, just to lure these eager pirates to his doorstep so he could wipe them out all at once?"
Dimitri adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, gazing at the clouds crackling with silver lightning, and calmly said, "Who knows? But none of these pirates gathered together can leave today."
Boom! Boom!
As the two were talking, streaks of silvery-white lightning shot out from the clouds, carrying an intense, almost tangible, violent and destructive aura, and densely struck the fleet of ships on the sea that was being disrupted by the waves and the gale.
The terrifying, eerie silver-white lightning lasted only five or six seconds before disappearing silently, and the waves on the sea quickly returned to calm.
As the sunlight pierced through the clouds and shone again on the sea, not a single intact ship could be found; only scattered wreckage remained, slowly sinking.
Cyril withdrew his gaze, and a phantom book in his eyes vanished rapidly.
...With good luck, after digesting a portion of the "Record Officer" potion, which increased the divine ability of recording to two, I successfully recorded a "Lightning Storm".
Collecting his thoughts, he looked down at the completed painting in his hand, tore it off with a good mood, and began to paint the second one.
Although these pirates buried at sea seem to be gone, they still have some residual value. For example, having them record the current scene should also help them absorb some of the "Recorder's" potion.
Dimitri watched as Sirion settled back into his drawing and couldn't help but ask, "You seem to really enjoy drawing? Is it your hobby, or just for acting?"
Cyril shook his head and did not answer.
Dimitri, unperturbed, continued, "Aren't you curious about the origins of these pirates who gathered together and dared to cause trouble in Bayam's port?"
"Most of the time, the authorities choose to expel them rather than carry out such a violent crackdown."
"After all, pirates are an indispensable part of the sea, and also followers of the Lord of Storms. Whether it's the upper-class nobles of various countries or the Storm Church itself, they all collude with pirates, engaging in shady dealings."
Cyril shook his head: "Not curious."
"But if you're willing to talk, I can listen."
After a moment of silence, Dimitri composed himself and continued, "They were a test organized by the local resistance forces in the Roside Islands. Of course, quite a few foolish pirates also joined in; otherwise, the local indigenous resistance forces probably wouldn't have been able to gather even a single ship."
"The resistance has been able to hold out in the Rothschild Islands to this day entirely thanks to the covert support from countries such as Intis and Fussac."
"Their original intention was to cause trouble for the Loen government's colonial rule in the Roside Islands, but these rebels are really hopeless. As far as I know, all parties have already decided to stop funding these rebels."
After saying that, he glanced at Sirion, and seeing that he didn't react, he had no choice but to ask, "What do you think of all this?"
Sirien turned around and glanced at Dimitri, who had been probing him with words, somewhat speechless.
He began to doubt whether the other party was the second mate of the "King of the Black Seat." Barros Hopkins probably wouldn't let him ask him such political questions, since they had communicated before and Barros likely knew that he didn't belong to any official faction.
"This is a political issue, and I am just an ordinary extraordinary person."
He paused, then suddenly looked up at the sky. In the swirling wind, a figure, not very clear, was flying towards them.
"They are the punishing deacons of the Storm Church, we..."
Dimitri's words suddenly stopped. In his sight, the figure of Sirion, who had just been sitting on the fence made of piled boulders by the roadside drawing, vanished instantly. Only a piece of drawing paper, blown up by the wind, proved that there was someone there just now.
"Son of a bitch!"
Dimitri, who had been behaving like a gentleman, could no longer hold back and swore.
call out!call out!
His response was a series of thin wind blades that pierced the air and shot towards him.
Dimitri dodged to the side, avoiding the incoming wind blades.
But the Church of Storms, who came riding the wind, gave him no chance to breathe, and thin, sharp wind blades attacked him one after another.
During the dodge, a music box fell off Dimitri and landed on the ground. It was turned on just in time, and a clear and melodious sound rang out instantly, which even the howling wind could not drown out.
The Punisher, who was manipulating the wind, paid no attention to the fallen music box and continued to attack Dimitri.
The raging wind around him seemed to be an extension of his body and will. The intense wind pressure made it difficult for Dimitri to move. Thin but sharp wind blades were hidden in the swirling airflow and were difficult to spot, constantly cutting into Dimitri's body.
If it weren't for the layer of dark gold scales protecting him, he would probably have been cut into pieces by those dense wind blades.
As time passed, Dimitri's face gradually turned pale, the dark gold scales on his body became tattered, and warm blood continued to flow from his wounds.
A dense array of wind blades rapidly condensed in front of the suddenly appearing Punisher, and then quickly dissipated.
An irresistible drowsiness surged into his heart. He clenched his right fist and lowered it towards himself, trying to use the pain to wake himself up, but his movement suddenly froze.
Fear and dread arose in his heart; he neither wanted nor dared to harm himself.
Dimitri curled the corners of his mouth, and his dark brown eyes turned into golden vertical pupils.
Under his gaze, the substitute's eyelids grew heavier and heavier until he could no longer hold on and collapsed to the ground, falling into a deep sleep.
Dimitri took a step forward, his body suddenly became ethereal, and then disappeared from reality.
On the long street where only the whistling wind could be heard, in the cracks between the bricks beneath a dark gas lamppost, a shard of mirror rippled with layers of eerie blue light, coalescing into an illusory door.
Then Cyril emerged from behind the "door".
He had just used Flash to leave this place, but he didn't go far. Instead, he found a place to enter the mirror world, and then returned to the mirror shards that he had thrown into the corner beforehand, secretly observing the outside world.
In the mirror world, he saw the entire battle between the suddenly arriving substitute and Dimitri.
"A Sequence 5 'Dreamwalker' and a magical item that most likely corresponds to a 'Nightmare'."
As he muttered to himself, he bent down to turn off the music box that was still playing music on the ground, and then picked it up.
Then, as he looked at the Punisher lying on the ground, lost in slumber and dreams, and pondered whether to eliminate him, his spiritual intuition suddenly issued a strong warning.
Without the slightest hesitation, he strode to the gas lamp where the mirror fragments were hidden and entered the mirror world once again.
boom!
A bolt of silvery lightning struck out of nowhere, shattering the mirror fragments hidden in the cracks between the bricks. At the same time, the current traveled along the metal lamppost, causing the top lamp to explode with a bang.
Wearing a dark blue priest's robe, "Aquaman" Yone Courtman was swept to the ground by swirling gusts of wind.
After looking around, his gaze fell on the sleeping Punisher lying on the ground, his eyes flashing with lightning, revealing his anger.
Back at the hotel where he was staying, after changing his disguise back to that of Born Walker, Sirion took out the glass crystal ball and began to perform divination.
A few breaths later, the starlight that had risen inside the crystal ball disappeared.
He let out a soft breath, then looked at the music box he had picked up, held it in his hand, and began to perform divination again.
As the starlight rising from inside the crystal ball disappeared again, he couldn't help but frown.
"Dimitri is neither dead nor captured by the Church of Storms..."
"Without the help of other people or magical objects, he could only have escaped by using dream travel."
"But that area isn't a commercial or residential area, there aren't many people around, and it's impossible for anyone to be sleeping there."
"Sequence 5 level dream travel has distance limitations, unless he has made prior preparations, such as hypnotizing several people to sleep in that area to ensure he can use dream travel to escape."
"If that's the case, then all his previous actions were deliberate attempts to get close to me, to deliver this music box to me, or to further escalate the conflict between me and the Church of Storms?"
"But what's the point?"
He couldn't see anything wrong with or special about the music box that Dimitri had left behind, nor could he figure out what purpose it could serve besides increasing his bounty in the Church of Storms.
After a moment of quiet contemplation, he lowered his head and began to pray softly: "A fool who does not belong to this era, a mysterious ruler above the gray fog, the king of yellow and black who holds the reins of good fortune."
A minute or two later, gray mist surged before his eyes, and the figure of "The Fool" emerged above the endless gray mist.
After briefly describing the situation, Klein's voice echoed in my ears: "I don't see anything special or problematic about it."
"Should we offer it as a sacrifice to the gray fog so I can perform a divination for you?"
After a moment's thought, Sirion shook his head: "No, I didn't get a result just now, so it would be the same if you came."
.
"Since we're unsure if there's a problem with it, let's send someone to test the waters."
Klein, standing above the gray mist, twitched his brow and couldn't help but ask, "Who are you trying to trick?"
"A demigod of the Morse order."
Cyril tilted his head back, the image of Oheez already appearing in his mind: "Anyway, I don't need this music box that may or may not be working properly, so I might as well take it and exchange it with someone for something more useful to me."
"If this is the will of the 'King of the Black Throne,' a demigod would be more than enough to pave the way."
Even if there's nothing wrong with it, I won't lose out.
After a half-second silence, Klein pressed on, "What if there's an even bigger problem?"
Cyril shrugged. "Then we'll just have to give it to the Church of Storms."
>
Klein, standing above the gray mist, twitched his brow and couldn't help but ask, "Who are you trying to trick?"
"A demigod of the Morse order."
Cyril tilted his head back, the image of Oheez already appearing in his mind: "Anyway, I don't need this music box that may or may not be working properly, so I might as well take it and exchange it with someone for something more useful to me."
"If this is the will of the King of the Black Seat," a demigod would be more than enough to pave the way.
Even if there's nothing wrong with it, I won't lose out.
After a half-second silence, Klein pressed on, "What if there's an even bigger problem?"
Cyril shrugged. "Then we'll just have to give it to the Church of Storms."