Chapter 82: Undercurrent (Thanks to the leader of the mediocre group for the reward!)
Viscount Grant noticed the rip in Lamar's clothes on his shoulders and couldn't help frowning: "Did they hurt you? It seems I shouldn't let the old immortal leave so easily."
Now he really regretted deliberately keeping his hand.
"Sir... I am a citizen of Red. This little injury is nothing." He tried to break free and sighed, but Lamar was a little helpless: "I'm busy now, and you haven't been walking very closely with Crendel recently.
Is it close?"
"Do you care about this?" The Viscount said nonchalantly: "My dear, you know this is for you, the Red People... What's more, it's just because she looks a lot like you, right?"
"She is my cousin, of course she is very similar." Lamar replied stiffly, but then he sighed and softened his tone: "Sir, this time is really dangerous. If you hadn't prepared wound medicine and crossbow in advance,
Pao, it’s impossible to defend the Viscount Mansion... Why on earth did the natives attack here?"
"It's normal that they want to take revenge on me and my father."
Viscount Grant replied casually. He kissed Lamar's forehead and signaled the other party not to ask in-depth questions: "Don't think too much, it won't do any good. Learn from Puder. Although he looks rough and direct, he never asks such questions.
That’s the really smart person.”
"If you want to be the leader of the Red People, you should learn from that wise old man in the future."
"Yes." Lamar responded softly. He had been fighting for a day and was very tired. He didn't want to think too much now.
"Speaking of this."
Talking about Puder, Viscount Grant turned his head thoughtfully and looked to the east of the city: "Who fired that shot? It really turned the tide of the war. I have to commend those brave men."
at the same time.
Scott, who stumbled along the way in the wind and rain, finally arrived at the Viscount Mansion.
For the residents of Harrison Port, the war was over, and the storm did not cause much damage to them who were well prepared.
Whether it is the dams that have been prepared, the shelters for each household, or the reinforced houses, the losses can be reduced to a relatively low level... As long as there is no totem spirit invading the city.
In extreme cases, even a big storm in the South China Sea cannot destroy almost half of the city like it did eight years ago.
The fighting in the city has come to an end, but there are still some aftermath ripples outside the city.
Beside the official road between Trois-Rivières and Harrison Harbor, a small group of natives were running in a hurry through the woods.
The tall scaly-skinned warrior leading the team had a heavy complexion, and half of the feather crest around his neck was burned off, which was enough to show the embarrassment of this chief who should be a certain Sequoia tribe.
Due to being flanked by the defenders of Anmore Town and the Harrison Port Guards, the seven official psychic shamans were blocked by Bishop Huaiguang alone. The coalition forces were completely defeated at the first touch, and no one left any chance.
With the intention of coming down to fight, everyone fled in all directions.
The chief was lucky because the raid was fast enough and the encirclement had not yet taken shape, so he and most of his elite men escaped.
"...I can only pray that the ancestors' plan to protect the great shaman will succeed..."
Thinking of the losses his tribe suffered as a result of this operation, he couldn't help but sigh: "As long as the sacred objects can be recaptured, at least the warriors can rest in peace in the arms of their ancestors..."
But just when he was thinking wildly due to fear, exhaustion and panic, a light suddenly lit up in the woods in front of him.
It was a fiery red sword light, still bright even in the sudden wind and rain, like a red-hot iron sword in an iron furnace. The blade split through the dark forest shadows, with a pungent smell of sulfur pressing towards the head!
The blazing blade was so dazzling that even the exhausted chief reacted immediately and immediately drew out the short knife from his waist to block the sharp and piercing sound, accompanied by the tooth-piercing sound of metal cutting.
The chief's short sword was immediately cut with a huge gap, but he also took advantage of the situation and retreated to avoid this fatal sword.
In the darkness, the red-haired and green-eyed mountain people walked out slowly. Red-blade Lubeck looked around indifferently at all the natives present, and then locked his eyes on the chief who was facing a powerful enemy. His eyes became hot little by little, holding the red blade.
The five fingers of the half-sword hand are also clenching more and more tightly.
He doesn't remember.
The mercenary whispered in his heart, not feeling angry that the other party didn't recognize his expression.
Because those who do many evil things are destined to be unable to remember the father of every child they take away.
And he was actually about to forget it. After fifteen years, he was about to forget the smile of his child, the face of his enemy, his original determination, and the hatred that should not be forgotten.
But so what?
At least now, he still remembers it.
Without any hesitation, the mountain people shouted and charged forward. The blazing fire light even evaporated the surrounding rainwater, causing the red light-reflecting steam to spread in all directions.
The indigenous chief, who had no idea why the other party ambushed him here, also roared angrily. He gritted his teeth and raised his short spear, and together with the hunters of his tribe, they surrounded and killed the man in front of him.
A few minutes later.
"...The head of the corpse is still intact, and it should meet the requirements of the bishop."
Throwing the half-sword in his hand, which had been twisted out of shape after cooling, on the ground, the still hot iron made a chirping sound when it touched the cold rain, and Lübeck let out a breath. He looked around at the dilapidated parts, with wounds like
The many corpses of carbon.
The man grabbed the tall chief's hair and lifted his head. He raised his head and looked further north: "I don't know why the bishop knew who my enemy was, and why he helped me locate his location...
…never mind."
"I can't figure it out anyway."
Shaking his head slightly, Lübeck had never been a complicated thinker. He only knew that the result of selling himself to Bishop Huaiguang was not bad, even quite good.
He has killed his enemies with his own hands and converted to the "Light of Embracing Light", and his subordinates will all have a destination, which is enough.
As for why the bishop did this, what was his purpose, and why he needed to hide his actions from Viscount Grant and secretly hunt for the head of such a large tribal chief...
Does Lübeck look like someone who can figure these things out?
He even learned how to write his own name only in recent years!
"It's time to report." Carrying his trophies, the man walked towards the north.
Offshore, around O'Dell Reef.
Hilliard stood on the edge of the storm's core area, looking up at the mighty, mighty rain cloud pillars that were like pillars in the sky gradually moving towards the south.
On the sea, although the waves are still turbulent, the abnormal eddies and lightning have disappeared and cannot be broken through. The defeated spirits of rising tides and drumming waves have long receded and returned to the depths of the sea, and Hilliard does not want to nor has the strength to go to the deep sea.
Chase the two giant beasts.
"It will probably stop tomorrow morning."
Lowering his head, the silver stream of light flashed, observing the heat evaporating in the sea, the old knight muttered: "Use the sea water to dissipate the accumulated heat... Is there something wrong with the original heat dissipation circulation system? But if you can't find the door, there is no way.
past."
"Where is the entrance to the ruins?"
The old man couldn't help but shook his head slightly. He knew very well that even if he got the key, he had to find the official entrance to the ruins. Otherwise, he would go directly through the heat dissipation vent in the sea and just stew himself like ribs.
"That's all, at least there's still time."
Hilliard didn't think too much. After all, this kind of thing cannot be rushed: "Looking at the previous movements, it should be that the natives have retreated."
He made up his mind and returned to the city.
The destruction within the city was not unexpected by Hilliard, and even the fact that the damage was limited to a small area near the port area in the west and south of the city was enough to surprise him.
"It seems that the Grant family has not lost their bravery, they are somewhat capable, and they have lived up to their original trust..."
The old knight couldn't help but murmured: "The Viscount's Mansion has been bombed but not yet breached? Have they been prepared for it?"
This thing is surprising enough.
But what shocked him the most was when he saw the crystal flesh and blood in the hands of his disciple when he returned home.
"Teacher? Are you back?"
Ian, who had just cleaned up the stagnant water in his home and stocked up on dried meat before eating some, has recovered somewhat.
He raised his head and looked at the surprised teacher, and couldn't help but laugh: "Come and take a look, teacher, until now I haven't figured out what type of sublimation material it is and what its use is."