Chapter 1747 - 897: Fire at the City Gate, Fish in the Moat Suffer (Part 2)

Between the pitch-black sea and sky, thunder and lightning continue constantly.

The enormous Prosperity is like a leaf on the crest of a wave, rising and falling, unable to control its own fate.

"It's about time. We can begin."

Before the water mirror, Meng Fengzuo coldly gazes at the scene of the Prosperity, issuing his command.

In the distant East City, someone carefully throws a simple square seal made of yellow clay into the sea, thus, above the West Sea thousands of miles away, the heavens roar and the ocean wails.

All phenomena in the world abide by this contract, fully unleashing the destruction that had once been restrained, and even doubling the ravage.

With no time for any reaction, within a mere few moments, the intensity of storms and gales begins to soar endlessly.

The Thunderbolt descending from the clouds far exceeds the number of raindrops, the sea boils and churns continuously, raindrops fall into the sea, spreading a biting chill, splashing points of ice flowers.

Countless Thunderbolt has now transformed into long serpents, excitedly darting across the cloud layers, seemingly alive, infused with life. The spiritual essence born from the waves of calamities follows their inherent cruelty and fierceness, fighting, devouring, rapidly growing.

Even the rising wave crests seem to wriggle, the splashing water hitting the ship's side, startlingly producing a piercing sound of steel friction.

The wind carries a sound akin to crying and shouting.

Accompanied by the impact and collision of the waves, frozen frost marks spread from the hull, yet their eerie shapes resemble countless handprints appearing out of thin air, densely overlapping, spreading upwards.

It's as if something invisible is crawling out from the pitch-black deep sea, climbing along the ship's body, insatiably thirsting, ascending. As it passes, the ship's paint cracks like thin paper, peeling and fading in the storm, exposing the iron-grey hull below.

The pouring rain on the deck converges into strings of wet footprints.

The chilling evil cold spreads.

In the brief flashes of the ferocious lightning, countless blurry outlines emerge from the rain, thousands upon thousands, already filling the deck.

Those residual spirits submerged in the sea are awakened again by the disturbance and call of the calamity.

Throughout the millennia, all phantoms of those who drowned in this sea area reappear from the rain, converging towards the sole intruder not belonging here, instinctively wanting to vent their endless resentment and despair.

This is undoubtedly a Heavenly Calamity!

"Indeed, it's East City, big and prosperous, to go such lengths to host just me... somewhat extravagant, isn't it?"

Lying on the chair, Ji Jue, who was looking down reading, now finally raises his eyes, glancing at those cold and eerie figures, and sighs helplessly:

"But still, every time before things get started, it's always the same routine, feeling a bit fed up with it."

Even though the world turns upside down, rising and falling constantly, amid this intense turmoil, everything placed on the deck—tables, chairs, benches, oven stands, even the fruit bowl on the dining table—seems welded in place, completely unmoving.

No, not just that, even if thrown into the air, plunged into the sea, flipping endlessly, the entire Prosperity shows no change or bump, remaining as steady as ever, with not even a slight tilt in the glass of cola.

Let the storm rage, standing firm.

Now, as the cold, damp residual spirits from the rain gradually approach, Ji Jue under the parasol indifferently retracts his gaze and looks back at the Association's yearbook in his hands again.

Lazily ignoring it.

No need to bother at all.

Going to such great lengths to create all these, I thought you'd bring out something remarkable, at least dig something fierce from beneath the vortex?

And this is it?

Not as much as a speed bump!

Boom!!!

Amongst the turbulent waves, an indistinct undulation suddenly emerges from the Prosperity, Flame Light gushes forth like an illusion, rising and spreading.

The still statue on the bow suddenly opens its eyes wide, glaring.

——Mere Outer Path, how dare defy my Righteous Law!

Therefore, the gale reverses, the downpour flows back.

Pure light emerges in midair, blooming like a lotus, six petal-like lotus leaves spread above, six wholly different spiritual shocks burst forth, overlapping, surging and spreading.

Three thousand worlds, covering earth and sea, encompassing six kinds of vibrations!

Great Momentum!

Thus, a piercing wail erupts from the storm, the wet footprints on the deck instantly evaporate, and the handprints frozen on the ship's sides suddenly melt, all residual spirits daring to approach in the sea and sky evaporate and dissipate as if sun-drenched.

The remaining spiritualization turns into mist, surprisingly integrates into the ship, like a monster devouring them all.

In a hazy sleep, suddenly having a snack, the Dragon Mountain Spirit within Prosperity slowly awakens, gazing at the furious storm before.

On the hull, the steam whistle already outdated by time shockingly erupts in roar.

That lofty, resounding voice upon appearing firmly suppresses the howling wind, waves, and thunder, as inconsequential noise—like a dragon's roar!

Followed by this, the gale and rain, stop abruptly.

Peaceful and calm.

The originally boiling pitch-black seawater, instantly loses color, no longer surging and fierce, returns to tranquil silence. The whistling gale seems to crash into an invisible iron wall, unable to breach.

Heavy rain pouring from above, cannot even approach the Prosperity itself.