Chapter 615 Homeland Patrol
There was a gust of spring breeze in the air and gentles waves on the sea, bringing with it the distinct smell of seawater. In the sky, the seagulls were flying above the harbor. Amongst the passengers carrying their luggage on the deck, the young priest peered into the distance in the direction of the harbor. He could not help but heave a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness, it has finally come to an end." He squeezed his way to the front, his eyes still fixed on the white city on the island, Avalon. It was the legendary island of miracles, the eternal treasure on the seas, and a city of pure whiteness.
The damage sustained by the city from the battle from a month ago could still be seen but the entire city was already functioning as per normal. The fact that Avalon did not turn into a pile of debris was beyond everyone's expectations. Other than the royal palace of the highest level, only the huts in downtown was badly burnt during the attack of the demons. The midtown and satellite island have already been completely restored, as evidenced by the overwhelming crowd. By using a pair of binoculars to take a closer look, one could almost see the pile of debris around the royal palace that still needed to be cleared. The workers were already hard at work and were clearing them up in a systematic manner.
The massive aether waves could be felt even across such a great distance. They surrounded the entire city and ensured that all turbulences were calmed. The waves even irradiated the sea, calming the aether waves on Norman, so that he no longer felt so seasick.
All music apprentices training in big cities faced the same problem to varying degrees. As they were not used to changes in aether density in the outside world, the moment they left their safe zones, they would develop symptoms that resembled altitude sickness. Although Norman was already fully prepared, he did not expect the combination of the restlessness of aether and seasickness to be so insufferable. For the past few days, Norman practically spent every moment stuck in the cabin and frequently having to vomit into a bag. He already felt half-dead before even reaching Anglo.
15 days ago, when they had set off from the Sacred City, they had planned for the journey to last for only five days but instead, they took more than 10 days. This was because the Asgardians have imposed an economic sanction on Caucasian on the seas, so the battle the between the two countries have blocked up naval routes and they had no choice but to find alternative routes. They were forced to travel along the border of Burgundy towards the south, take a huge detour, before passing through the straits of the whale hunters last night and entering the seas of Anglo. Once there, they could barely see any traces of demons nor sense any lingering signs of catastrophes.
Although some of the ports along the way showed signs of damage, they were still rather intact and the city was still in decent shape. It seemed that the moment the chaos ended, restoration was already underway. This was not what Norman expected. He had already been mentally prepared to work amongst the debris but once he was actually there, he realized that the situation was not as dire as what the Sacred City had predicted. Perhaps it was not out of pride that this country chose to decline aid from the Sacred City after all.
The worst case scenario of Anglo being destroyed by the Leviathan attack had not taken place. Although the death of the king in the battle should be mourned, overall, they did not sustain too much casualties. In fact, if one perceived the battle as sacrificing a royal palace in exchange for defeating a catastrophe, perhaps every country would already be rushing to build tens of palaces before bombing them to the ground in exchange for eternal peace. According to the reports that the Sacred City had received, the entire situation almost seemed too easy.
After utilizing all their trump cards and all the reserves of many years, Leviathan was thoroughly defeated by Anglo. It was thorough and complete. It was not just a temporary exile. It was the death of Leviathan, who belonged to the upper tier of catastrophes and was one of the Four Living Creatures. An outcome like this could be described as 'sensational'. Anglo did not sustain any fatal casualties, nor sink into complete chaos after the battle. Instead, it only proved the potential that this country possessed. As for the neighboring countries that had planned to exploit their situation only found themselves biting off more than they could chew.
Now, any sensible person knew that this country has already survived its toughest times, and has even rid itself of its curse and progressed into the next phase of development. As long as the new king, Mary, did not do anything foolish, Anglo would be able to return to their most glorious times within five years. In fact, they might even progress to a stage whereby they could vie with the Asgardians for the control of southern seas.
"It seems that the plan needs to be tweaked," Norman sighed. His face had become pale once again from thinking and worrying too much. He leaned over the ship railings and vomited out all the contents of his breakfast. Behind him, an old man sighed and patted his back, before taking out the remaining few pills for seasickness. After consuming the pills, Norman looked much better.
The old man shook his head, "If you are seasick, just eat your medications."
"Apologies, Bishop Raymond." Normal bowed with an awkward expression. "I had thought that we would be able to reach the harbor in the morning. I had no idea that there would be such a huge delay."
"There will always be unforeseen circumstances." Bishop Raymond grabbed onto the ship railings and looked at the city without saying a word. His expression was calm. It seemed that the wait would have to continue.
This was the first accident that they had encountered after reaching Avalon. The chief officer had walked out of the cabin with a mixed expression on his face to inform the passengers that they would have to wait for more than three hours before they could enter the harbor. In the ensuing commotion, Norman squeezed through the crowd and reached the chief officer. It has been such a long journey of enduring the torture of seasickness. Avalon was now finally within sight, yet they were not allowed to enter. This was such a huge blow that Norman could almost vomit blood.
Facing all the commotion, the chief officer seemed to be in a difficult position. "At the moment, only harbor 3 is opened and can allow us to dock. But news have just came in that the situation at the berth is tense and we need to give way for the time-being."
"Give way?" Norman was stunned and his face was red with fury. Although he had left his family to join the Church at a very young age in order to become a friar, he still came from a rich background. His teacher in the Church also held a rather prestigious position. Although he should uphold the value of humility as the servant of God, he has never had to give way to anyone in his entire life.
"What are you talking about? This is the ship of the Church!" The consecutive days of seasickness have finally gotten to Norman. He could not suppress his rage and he hissed, "Besides, I just saw that the harbor is completely empty. There is no congestion whatsoever. Why do we suddenly have to give way?"
"This… I'm not too sure either," the chief officer was helpless. Norman was so furious that he was just about to storm into the captain's office, but was stopped by Bishop Raymond.
"Forget it, Norman," Raymond said calmly. "We are only giving way. After all, that person is of a prestigious status. There is no shame in giving way to him."
"That person?" Norman was stunned. His anger dissipated instantly. "Are you referring to the 'Hand of God'?"
"Looks like he has completed his homeland patrol and has returned to Avalon." Bishop Raymond raised his turbid eyes and looked at the edge of the sea that was far away. It was as if he could see the impressive and majestic ships. "Norman, we were too late."
Very soon, hurricanes swept over across the seas, as the passengers gasped in shock. The ship began to rumble vigorously and Norman's face turned pale again. He tried to control himself and looked into the distance. The first thing he saw was the black combat vessel, which has been branded with the markings of flame and holy emblem. The ship was clearly still some distance away, yet its details could be seen so clearly. One could barely fathom the immense size of the ship. A loud sonorous horn sounded. The crashing waves became calm under an invisible power. The surface of the sea was flat, with only small ripples caused by the passing of the ship.
Behind the black vessel was a gigantic fleet of tens of ships from various countries. Raymond stared for a very long time before finally sighing, "Too fast. We will not have enough time. Looks like we have underestimated the determination of that person…"
Norman stood on tip-toes and watched the black combat vessel, which was sailing silently like an incubus. As he recalled some of the dark and terrible rumors of this ship, he could not help but feel a chill down his spine. How long has it been? Eight days? 10 days?
After Leviathan was killed, the fog gradually subsided. There was chaos everywhere as the entire Anglo had lost contact with its capital for such a long time. When the news of the old king's death came, everyone was shaken. Subsequently, when the envoy of the new king travelled to the various lands, more than half of them chose not to pledge their loyalties to the new king. It seemed that the influences of several other countries were lurking in the shadows. It was a precarious period of time.
As expected, everyone had planned to exploit the chaotic situation for their own benefits. Regardless if one was to choose to be independent or seek alliance with others, everyone knew that this opportunity would only come once in a lifetime and it would be foolish not to take advantage of it. Everyone knew that the fastest way to gain wealth and power was when the country was in chaos. Unfortunately, the moment 'that person' set out on his 'Mountain of Nomadism' to patrol the homeland on behalf of the new king, everyone knew that they had made the wrong decision and it was too late to turn back.
The first person that tried to repent was already too late. The entire family was declared to be heresies and was burnt to ashes on stakes in front of a crowd. The second and third followed very soon after…
Those that had not pledged their loyalties to the new king before the black ship had arrived eventually found themselves on the stakes. All these souls that have sinned were sent to heaven for judgment and purification.
Some people tried to compromise but it has been proven that 'compromise' was not something that existed in the dictionary of 'that person'. Some tried to put up a fight but it was proven very quickly that it served no purpose, except a more tragic ending. Neither peace nor violence worked. The moment one's name has been included in the list of 'that person', nothing else mattered. Some people even tried to seek refuge in other countries after making a fortune, thinking that their newfound wealth would guarantee their survival. In the end, the black ship caught up with them the moment they had entered territorial waters and in the name of God, were attacked with a barrage of bombs.
The traitors and their wealth were erased. In less than half a month's time, more than 600 people have been mercilessly burnt to death and countless that have been implicated were locked up in the Religious Court of Inquiry. It was unlikely that they would ever see a single beam of daylight anymore for the rest of their lives.
With the death of Leviathan, the name of the Religious Court of Inquiry resurfaced in this world once again. What was once a dismissive attitude of 'that little bastard' has been thrown away, just as the countless corpses that have been dumped into the sea. Until now, no one has dared to speak of his name, except to refer to him as 'that person', who would bring about only death and doom as the new Chief Inquisitor. Thereafter, everyone else would pledge their loyalties to the new king as soon as they could, all the while praying that the black ship would never dock at their harbors.
Now, this person has finally concluded his homeland patrol and his nickname, 'Hand of God', has also been tainted with blood and has spread across all countries. No one could have imagined that just one year ago, 'that person' was still an exile from Anglo who had nothing in his possession.
What has happened since then was nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps this was really the will of God. Ever since that Staff of Fate had burnt Leviathan completely into ashes and turned the clone of Hyakume into a toy in the bottle, no one has dared to doubt his wrist and ability.
"Is he really human?" Norman could not help but shake his head and sigh. The majestic fleet was fast approaching. Even without binoculars, one would be able to clearly see the black armored exterior of the ship and the ferocious and massive main cannon. Rather than describing the two ships as having passed each other by, it was more like their ship was welcoming the other with reverence and respect.
Norman could not help but cast the movement of revelation on himself. His vision crossed over the distance and landed on the deck of the black ship. In the midst of the heightened security, he could just about make out white hair that was like mercury. It seemed that the young man, who was about the same age as Norman, felt something and raised his head to give an indifferent glance. Those pair of dark black eyes seemed to contain a bottomless pit and they pierced Norman's eyes, even from such a great distance. Norman lowered his head subconsciously and no longer dared to look.
The vision left Norman and landed on the elderly Bishop beside him. Raymond sighed guiltily as he apologized for what Norman has done. That young man was not offended and smiled, before retrieving his vision.
When the black ship finally sailed past, it veered towards the other side of Avalon, instead of stopping at harbor 3. It sailed past the formation of the royal navy that were there to welcome their return, and into the berth that belonged to the royal family. Norman finally breathed a sigh of relief. He could feel his back drenched with cold sweat. He could not help but laugh bitterly, "That was Ye Qingxuan?"
"That's right." Raymond continued to watch the black ship. For some reason, there was an indecipherable expression on his face. "… Hand of God, Ye Qingxuan."
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