Chapter 404 - 390: Deep Sea Hunt (Part 1)

Chapter 404: Chapter 390: Deep Sea Hunt (Part 1)

The top floor of the Black Stone Hand Merchant Guild.

Hector sat behind a mahogany desk, holding an exquisite silver file in his hand. Before him lay a human skull. Its bone was as white as jade, clearly having undergone an extremely complex treatment process.

"You’re telling me another one has gone missing?"

Hector didn’t look up. The silver file gently scraped along the edge of the skull’s eye socket, making a soft rustling sound as fine powder drifted down.

The guild manager standing before the desk was ramrod straight, cold sweat trickling from his temples into his collar and soaking a large patch of his expensive silk shirt.

"Yes, Lord Marquis." The manager’s voice trembled. "This is the third one this week. The ’Black Daffodil,’ carrying refined iron and Magic Potion Ingredients traded from the north. According to its itinerary, it should have reached Black Stone Port yesterday, but even now..."

"Not even a single plank has drifted back?" Hector blew the dust off the bone and held it up to the light to examine it, as if admiring a precious treasure.

"N-no. The patrol boats went to the designated waters but found nothing. It’s as if the sea just swallowed it whole."

"Swallowed it?"

Hector finally set the skull down.

He stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Outside was the bustling Black Stone Port, a port city leased to the Black Stone Hand Merchant Guild by a friendly Count.

In the harbor district, countless masts stood like a forest, and workers moved cargo like ants.

"Those stray dogs on the high seas have certainly gotten ravenous lately." Hector chuckled softly. "That fool Graham sealed the border, cutting off the smugglers’ livelihoods. Naturally, they’ve turned their attention to the sea."

"My Lord means... pirates?" the manager asked cautiously.

"Who else but those brainless fools would dare touch my ships?" Hector turned around, his gray eyes utterly placid. "They’re nothing but a few flies. Send word to the port defense force. Have Knight Carlson take a detachment out for a little spin."

"A... A Level 5 Knight leading the team?" The manager was taken aback. "Isn’t that a bit of overkill? Lord Carlson is responsible for guarding the core warehouse."

"In my domain, I don’t tolerate the buzzing of flies." Hector sat back down and picked up the silver file. "Tell Carlson to bring a few back alive. I happen to be in need of new materials for testing my latest concoctions. Those hardy types who have drifted at sea for years are the most suitable."

"As you command, My Lord."

As if granted a pardon, the manager scurried out, even catching the corner of his coat in the door as he closed it.

Hector shook his head.

"So inelegant."

He picked up the skull again, and the file descended.

"Let’s just tidy this up a bit. The lines here are still too rough."

...

Two hundred meters deep in the sea.

It was not pure black here, but a deep, inky blue.

Leviathan One was suspended in the ocean current, its massive body rising and falling gently with the flow. It was like a living fortress—silent, cold, and overwhelmingly oppressive.

Inside the bio-chamber, a Magic Lamp illuminated Korsh’s slick face.

He held a sheet of special waterproof paper, the handwriting on it firm and powerful.

[Avoid direct confrontation.]

Korsh repeated the order from the letter in a low voice, his eyes filled with scrutiny and thought, his expression solemn.

His adjutant standing beside him waved its tentacles impatiently, watching the points of light flit across the holographic sea chart on the [Hive Terminal] and couldn’t help but complain.

"Commander, this is the third convoy already. Are we just going to watch?"

Korsh slowly turned his head, his icy gaze sweeping over the adjutant’s face. The once-agitated subordinate froze instantly, sheepishly lowering its limbs.

"The Chief emphasized in the letter that the one in charge over there is a Level 5 Knight. Ordinary Gold Coins and cargo aren’t worth risking our Warriors’ lives for."

Korsh folded the letter neatly and placed it in a waterproof pouch he kept close to his body.

"We are Hunters, not mad dogs. Why waste our energy cracking a tough nut? These heavily guarded convoys are not our primary targets."

He turned, gesturing toward the scattered, faint points of light on the terminal’s holographic sea chart.

"Our mission is to make Hector hurt. We will turn this sea into a black hole that swallows his wealth. We’ll specifically target merchant ships with weak defenses and few guards. We will strike such fear into them that Hector will be forced to assign Heavy Knights to every single one of his cargo ships."

Korsh’s tentacles twitched slightly, a cunning light glinting in his eyes.

"When his forces are spread thin and exhausted, that’s when we’ll make our real harvest. Order all units: maintain silence and bypass this main fleet. Go find those undefended ’soft targets’."

"Yes, Commander!" The adjutant, coming to a sudden realization, was just about to relay the order to change course.

Just then, a rapid, low-pitched buzzing suddenly erupted from the control console. The previously calm data stream on the Hive Matrix’s sea chart turned chaotic, and a dark red ripple exploded in the center of the screen.

"High-energy reading detected!" the panicked sensor operator reported. "Bearing northeast, six nautical miles. A new fleet has appeared. Small in size, but the energy reading is extremely high! The flagship is commanded by... a Level 5 Knight!"

The adjutant glanced at the data and said instinctively, "Commander, another tough nut. It seems Hector reacted quickly. We should let this fleet pass as well—"

"Wait!" The operator’s voice suddenly grew sharp. "Something’s wrong! Not only does the target vessel have a conventional Magic Power shield, but we’re also detecting... an extremely high concentration of negative energy radiation!"

"Negative energy?" Korsh’s hand, poised to give the order to turn, froze in mid-air. "Be specific."

"It’s the Curse Element." The operator’s voice was filled with shock and suspicion. "A very dense necrotic aura, it’s even interfering with the hull’s sonar imaging. It’s like... it’s like that ship is filled with the vengeful spirits of the dead."

Korsh quickly pulled up the operator’s display and magnified it for the entire communication channel.

In the holographic projection, a small fleet was cutting through the waves. At its center was a bloated supply ship. Viewed through the special detection Magic, the ship was radiating a nauseating blackish-red halo, like a malignant tumor.

"Escorted by a Level 5 Knight, but not to transport valuables... instead, it’s transporting this curse..."

Korsh narrowed his single-slit pupils. The intelligence Tristan had mentioned flashed through his mind—the core of the Blood-Cough Plague was a curse.

"Plague materials!" Korsh muttered to himself, his sharp, serrated teeth slowly grinding together. His initial intention to avoid battle vanished in an instant, replaced by a surge of chilling killing intent.

"Commander?" the adjutant asked, watching the dangerous look grow in Korsh’s eyes. "This ship is too bizarre, and it’s heavily defended. Should we stick to the plan and avoid it?"

"Avoid it?"

Korsh slowly shook his head.

"No. If it were Gold Coins, we could let it pass. But this... We may have just hooked a big one!"

He switched the Hive Terminal to the all-hands channel.

"Change of plans. This ship is more valuable than a hundred shiploads of gold."

"All hands, break silence and enter hunt mode! Preheat the Thunder Diamond and prepare to release the Storm Snare!"

...

On the sea’s surface, the night was pitch black.

Carlson stood on the deck of the flagship, his silver-white enchanted armor gleaming under the moonlight. His hand rested on his sword hilt, and he stood like a statue, exuding a suffocating pressure.

As a Level 5 Knight, his intuition was rarely wrong, yet tonight, facing the calm sea, he couldn’t shake a feeling of unease.

"Still no sign of them?" Carlson’s voice was low, tinged with impatience.

"Reporting, sir, Magic detection is normal. No signs of ship activity in the surrounding five miles," the first mate answered, trembling.

"Hmph. A pack of thieving rats," Carlson snorted contemptuously. "If they dare show their faces, I’ll give them a taste of my ’Void-Rending Sword Qi’."

Just then, a sailor in the crow’s nest suddenly shouted, "Is that fog?"

Carlson frowned.

A faint, thin mist had appeared on the surface of the sea. It had rolled in with extreme speed and was utterly bizarre. It wasn’t a natural white water vapor, but a faint, ghostly blue that looked especially creepy in the dark of night.

The fog was absurdly thick. In just a few breaths, visibility dropped to less than ten meters. They couldn’t even see the navigation lights of the escort ships beside them.

"Signal the fleet! All ships, converge on the flagship!"

"Sir... The signal flare won’t fire! This fog... it seems to be swallowing the light!"

A drop of cold sweat trickled down Carlson’s forehead. ’Something’s wrong!’

"On alert! Everyone on alert!"

Carlson instinctively sensed something was wrong—not just because of the eerie color, but because his senses as a Level 5 Knight were screaming a warning. Without a moment’s hesitation, he whipped out the Longsword from his waist. An explosion of silver-white Battle Aura instantly erupted, forcefully pushing back the fog within a few meters.

"This isn’t a natural fog! It’s a High Tier alchemical mist! Someone is targeting us!"

Carlson’s roar, infused with his Battle Aura, thundered across the deck, drowning out the crash of the waves. He grabbed the first mate beside him and barked out his orders.

"Relay my command! All escort ships are to converge on the flagship immediately and tighten the defensive perimeter! Forget about speed, maintain a tight formation!"

Then, he roared at the Mage tower on the sterncastle, "What is the Mage Corps doing? Activate the ’Deflection Field’ now! Raise the Magic shield to maximum power! Move!"

As he gave the command, the flagship’s hull shuddered violently.

VMMMM—!

The Magic Crystal Stone at the top of the mast flared with a blinding light. A translucent, pale golden shield unfurled, enveloping the entire flagship in a sphere. Flowing Runes coursed over the shield’s surface, trying to keep the bizarre, ghostly blue fog at bay.

The sailors on deck, who had been starting to panic, immediately felt a sense of relief and let out a collective sigh. With a Level 5 Knight in command and an indestructible Magic shield for protection, they figured there was nothing to worry about.

Meanwhile, fifty meters below the surface.

A dozen or so Magical Beasts, indistinguishable in appearance from ordinary fish, were slowly and steadily ascending. The moment they touched the Magic shield, the scales on their skin shimmered and changed like a chameleon’s, and they passed through the barrier without any resistance.

They easily attached themselves to the flagship’s hull.

In the Leviathan’s command room, Korsh watched the green dots on the holographic display all lock onto their targets. He raised a hand, then clenched it into a tight fist.

"Goodbye, Lord Knight."

BOOM—!!

A muffled boom first caused the surface of the sea to bulge violently upwards. A split second later, a terrifying shockwave from the alchemical explosives, carried by countless tons of seawater, tore apart the flagship’s iron-core blackwood keel—a timber that had taken a hundred years to grow in the Far North Icefield.

In that instant, the oak deck became as fragile as a sheet of paper, disintegrating and blasting upwards with the shockwave. Amid a gut-wrenching splintering sound, countless planks turned into a deadly rain, shooting out in all directions mixed with iron nails.