Chapter 139

"Why are there so many ships?"

"Yeah! Why so many large ships?"

Before long, all members of the special forces climbed to the top of the mountain, discussing animatedly. Captain Barnes lay on the cliff, staring intently at the sails below, his eyes almost bloodshot.

Below was a complete fleet, large and small, with at least twenty ships. The two leading large ships had four masts, with two tall ones in the middle and one each in the front and back, tilted in opposite directions.

The ship was massive, with bow and stern towers towering high above the river, resembling a castle.

Just these two large ships were already astonishing, and judging by their size, they could transport at least 500 soldiers or even more if the journey was short.

In addition to these two ships, there were six or seven three-mast ships in the fleet, some swift and nimble, as if specialized in chasing, and others square and sturdy, clearly intended for transporting people and cargo. Even the dozen or so two-mast small boats, when combined, had a considerable transport capacity.

"There must be ten thousand people..."

"Why would they come here... wrong turn? Or do they not know how deep this river is?"

"Such large ships won't reach the upstream port!"

Soldiers gathered at the top of the cliff, discussing anxiously, faces reddened by the cold wind. Garrett furrowed his brow, trying to recall the geographical records from the mage tower.

Unfortunately, those records were quite briefjust a map with a few lines representing roads and circles for cities. Forget about terrain and topography; even the scale was uncertain.

Relying on those maps to figure out why the Fleet of the Radiant Lord had come here was like dreaming. It was better to trust his own eyes.

Garrett looked down from a high vantage point, overlooking the river mouth. To the left, in the upstream direction of the Dov River, the river was not particularly wide, perhaps a few hundred meters.

However, looking to the right, the towering cliffs suddenly expanded on both sides, forming a trumpet-shaped bay. Garrett strained his eyes but could only vaguely see the coastline in the twilight, like two arms embracing the sea. The width between the arcs should be no less than 10 kilometers.

A sense of unease crept over Garrett. At the same time, the mage who had been contemplating the bay with him turned abruptly. The movement was so sudden that even with his hat tightly wrapped around to block the sea breeze, it flew off.

"No, they didn't make a wrong turn! The Fleet of the Radiant Lord is taking this route; they intend to flank us from behind our main camp!"

"How is that possible?" Captain Barnes exclaimed. Beside him, York, a level five shield warrior, took a step forward, and with a nervous mood, snapped a rock underfoot:

"What a joke! With such large ships, they can't break through!"

The two highest-ranked warriors questioned simultaneously. In the twilight, the mages shook their heads repeatedly, pointing to the far coast, where the newly risen full moon hung:

"Spring tide! It's a spring tide! I've read about it. At the mouth of the Dov River, during a full moon, the spring tide can surge dozens of miles in one go, significantly raising the water level! Riding the tide, they can rush through this gorge in one go, all the way to the flat land!"

Spring tide!

Garrett suddenly felt a chill. He finally remembered what this bay meantthe trumpet-shaped bay, narrowing upstream, and the full moon he saw before going to sleep last nightSpring Tide!

"Yes!" he urgently agreed, "With this topography and a spring tide, the water level will indeed rise significantly! Look, it's a trumpet-shaped bay outside. When the tide rises, the water rushes into this narrow channelwide outside, narrow inside. With so much water rushing in all at once, the water level inside is bound to rise significantly!"

If the captain was the commander of the special forces, then the knowledgeable spellcasters were the brains of the special forces. Now, with both spellcasters concurring, the warriors present looked at each other in a tense manner. Captain Barnes, with a silent shield warrior at his side, urged anxiously:

"Captain, what do we do?"

"Yeah, what do we do? Block them?"

Another seventeen or eighteen-year-old archer joined in the questioning. While asking, he drew his bow and aimed at the large ships belowhe aimed for a while, then shook his head and put away the bow and arrow.

The range was not enough. Even if he shot from a high vantage point, with such a distance, he couldn't even hit a single person on the other side.

Captain Barnes fell into contemplation. Behind the group, a stealthy figure dressed in gray-black played with a dagger, shaking his head lightly. The cold light flickered between his fingers, turning from the back of his hand to the palm, disappearing and reappearing:

"They have too many people. We can't stop them. We better go back and report."

"Yeah! Let's report back quickly!" urged the dual-wielding warrior who spoke first, "With such a large force, we must report to the main camp immediately! Captain, let's go!"

Go back immediately?

Garrett looked down at the magnificent giant ships gently floating on the water, sailors bustling on the decks. Lowering sails, dropping anchors, scrubbing the deckseverywhere was a busy scene. Among them, only one ship was quiet:

Among the largest two four-mast ships, simultaneously flying the Thunder Flag, Iris Flower Flag, and the golden lion flag.

Two rows of soldiers stood neatly on both sides of the ship. Bright armor, unsheathed swords.

In the middle of the soldiers, standing shoulder to shoulder near the main mast, were three people holding long staffs, silk robes shining in the evening sun.

From the high point, Garrett couldn't see their faces clearly, only the person in the red robe in the middle raised his staff. Behind them, soldiers brought in prisoners one after another.

Some were poorly dressed, arms and legs exposed;

Some could hardly walk on their own, dragged by two soldiers;

Some struggled while walking;

Some wore neat robes, their arms held by soldiers on either side, still walking proudly.

Garrett even saw a little girl, wearing a soft white dress, bewildered, looking around. The soldier guarding the child seemed unwilling to exert force, bending over to hold her hand, only forbidding her from running around and disturbing the nobles.

A group of thirty people was brought onto the deck, facing the person in the red robe, and soldiers forced them to kneel on their knees. The person in the red robe seemed to say something, immediately causing chaos belowsome struggled, some shouted, some banged their heads on the ground, and some crawled forward on their knees.

The well-dressed prisoner, who had walked on his own, even broke free from the soldiers, pounced forward, tightly embracing the little girl.

However, regardless of their gestures, the person in the red robe remained unmoved. He didn't move, and the soldiers didn't move. In the fierce sea breeze, it seemed as if all these soldiers had turned into statues. Only a

few sailors quickly approached and set up a long, narrow plank at the bow.

Then, Garrett watched in horror as the prisoners were tied up, blindfolded, and one by one driven onto the plank.

"They are..."

"Prisoners captured by the Radiant Lord's Church." A cold voice answered by his ear, and Garrett turned to see a level four mage standing next to him. The mage who had tightly wrapped his hat while sitting by the fire last night now faced the sea breeze without flinching, his posture straight:

"Or you can say, heretics. If they catch you, me, or our loved ones, it would be the same."

The prisoners were dragged onto the plank one by one. Sailors gathered on both sides of the plank, scolding and beating with sticks, whipping them, urging them to stagger forward. Trembling, swaying, forwardfalling.

The cries and pleas were unbearable. However, the soldiers mechanically moved forward to drag people. One fell, then another. Those who couldn't walk or climb onto the plank were thrown directly into the sea from the ship's side.

The prisoners on the deck were cleared one by one, leaving only the man in the neat robe, holding the girl, half-kneeling in the center of the circle.

Although all prisoners, the man seemed to receive preferential treatment. No one pulled him, no one approached to tie him up. Only the person in the red robe said something loudly, and the robed prisoner turned to look at him. Suddenly, he hugged the little girl tightly, gently placed her down, turned to face the bow, took a step, then turned again, rubbing the girl's hair, and bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

Then, the man walked forward with large strides, stepping onto the plank at the bow. When he reached the ship's side, he calmly turned his hands behind his back, letting the sailors tie his wrists and blindfold him.

In the sea breeze, the man raised his chest, step by step, walking to the end of the plank.

Into the void.

Falling.

The sea breeze howled.

White seagulls circled back and forth at the bow, calling out long and loud, their voices heart-wrenching.

The soldiers on the ship stood like mud carvings and wooden sculptures, silently watching the robed prisoner fall, without any reaction. Only the little girl, released by them, cried and shouted, stumbling around the deck for a while, until finally, she climbed onto the plank.

On the cliff, a long, silent silence, as if death had fallen.

Waiting for them to go back and inform the main camp, waiting for the main camp to come over, back and forth, more than three to five days.

During these three to five days, the land under their feet might be turned into something unimaginable by the Radiant Lord's Church.

"Can we stop them?"

Captain Barnes suddenly asked. The shield warrior didn't speak, the stealthy figure didn't speak, the mage pulled down his hat, his gaze sweeping over the ships below, as if engraving that fleet into his heart, then decisively turning around.

"We can try."

"We can give it a shot."

Garrett and the mage spoke at the same time. In the twilight, the two spellcasters' eyes met, seeing the determination in each other's eyes.

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