The first ray of sunlight in the morning penetrated the hazy fog on the surface of the Sunia Sea. There were not many crew members on the deck, but the sails and guns moved on their own. The Blue Avenger was treading flat on the deep blue waves.
In the captain's room, Alger, who had already taken the crew to the last port and exchanged most of the gold and silver treasures obtained from the sunken ship into Loen gold pounds, was floating in the air. The weak air current rolled up the navigation map and hung it steadily.
In front of him, a pencil was pulled by the wind from time to time, drawing new marks on the nautical chart.
Since there were crew members from the Church of Storms around to monitor him, this became his usual method of digesting potions. Although it was slow, it was very effective.
I must find a way to "legally" become a "Wind Blessed". Even if I have to digest double portions of the potion later, it is better than grinding away like this day after day.
The influence of the "Sailor" path left little mark on Alger, but it was not without it. At least the fact that he was promoted but could not act openly and openly made him often unable to stop himself from impulsive behavior.
idea.
"Sometimes being anxious doesn't solve the problem, especially when you are still in the Tyrant's church and exist as a mixed race." A voice sounded from behind Alger without any warning.
But he was not frightened. He put on a vigilant posture and quickly landed on the ground. He knelt on one knee in the direction of the voice and saluted respectfully.
"Praise the Fool, Your Highness Edmund."
"Praise the 'Fool'." Edmund, who was dressed in gorgeous clothes, also tapped his forehead, with the same pious tone.
But after doing all this, he returned to his usual cynical appearance and sat down on the chair behind him very casually, with a slight hint of joking at the corner of his mouth.
"How about this tortured feeling?"
"I should be right. In the 'tyrant's' church, mixed-race people have always had a slightly better status than women."
His Highness has been emphasizing mixed race... What is this implying?
He kept analyzing the meaning behind Edmund's words in his mind, and responded without hesitation:
"Actually, it's not very good. This feeling of being unable to digest even though I've reached 'Sequence Six' is like grabbing my throat and making me unable to breathe. But compared to my mixed-race status, it seems insignificant.
.”
Listening to this standard answer, Edmund nodded perfunctorily and made a slight hook movement with his fingers.
A faint light emerged, and the fossil pendant that Alger had been wearing slowly flew up from his layers of clothes, projecting an illusory map in the air in front of him.
"This is your second mission. Find traces of the Witch Sect's activities in the Raging Sea, then lock on to this target and bring back the beacon buried in the spiritual space."
"Pointer?" Alger asked softly after hearing the unfamiliar words in Edmund's explanation, but his eyes had already been firmly fixed on the coordinates of the ship that was moving and evading the dangerous waters of the Raging Sea.
Judging from the experience of "Navigator", it should be trying to turn into a channel leading to the depths of the violent sea.
Seeing the outstanding performance of the idler in front of him, Edmund nodded with satisfaction and patiently explained:
"Yes, it is a special item buried in the spiritual world by the Tamara family using the power of the 'door' pathway at the end of the Fourth Age, pointing to a lost city."
Hearing words that might involve a lost city and the Fourth Age, Alger's breathing instinctively slowed down for a moment, but he soon regained his composure.
He was silent for a while, and then he boldly pointed out a problem that Edmund might not have considered.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness, I don't have the ability or items to enter the spirit world yet."
Before the demigods, the Extraordinaries of the "Storm" path lacked the means to directly influence the spiritual world.
In response, Edmund snorted.
"Don't worry, that spiritual space has a corresponding entrance to reality. At the end of the Fourth Era, the extraordinary people of the Tamara family's 'gate path' were almost extinct. They left themselves a way out."
His voice became more and more distant, and by the end, it seemed to have become a distant echo, not like reality.
Alger, who was kneeling on one knee, slowly stood up. With a glance, the scattered navigation charts, paper and pens had returned to their proper places.
He was already familiar with this angel's behavior and habits.
Dang Dang.
There was a knock on the door, and Alger turned around and saw the first mate who had been favored by him.
"Captain, do we want to change course now?"
"Of course, we still have to give face to the gathering of the King of the Five Seas. How can we be absent from such an occasion?" Alger nodded slightly, walked out of the captain's cabin from the first mate's majestic body that occupied half of the door frame, and looked towards
The direction of the island marked in the intelligence.
Isn't there a witch going there?
............
The junction of the Raging Sea and the Sunian Sea.
In front of the cliff of life and death, a magnificent scene that seems not to belong to this world is frozen in the sky, and it seems that it will never change.
Above the pale white coastline, the never-ending thunder and storms of the Raging Sea are deep and solemn, while opposite it is the fairy-tale blue of the Sonia Sea and the long lines of soft mist on the sea.
Two completely opposite scenes faced each other in the sky, making the Black Death with its iconic black sail extremely small.
Tracy, who had just gotten rid of the ascetic monks from the Church of Storms and survived the desperate situation, looked back to the distance shrouded by the storm with lingering fear, her heroic eyebrows furrowed into a straight line.
Why was he being frantically hunted by the Church of Storms, and why did the Church of Storms send out a female "Ocean Singer"?
No, what the hell, is there actually a female Sequence Five in the Church of Storms?
She recalled the other person's blond hair, blue eyes, and tall figure, and took a deep breath.
She's not very pretty, but she has a lot of temperament, and during the pursuit, she was just business-like, without any of the mad dog-like attitude of other storm believers.
It's strange that she doesn't seem to be very willing to make great efforts to hunt me down...
"Why, are you still missing that ascetic monk?" Beside Tracy, seeing that he kept staring in the direction of the Raging Sea, Elaine couldn't help but stab the pirate leader who had captured her.
"No, no, she's not as beautiful as you..." Tracy, who knew that the other party couldn't be charmed by her, was not interested in bickering with Elaine at this time, and just let out a long sigh of relief.
He hugged his "girlfriend" and gave her half of the captain's coat.
What was unusual was that Elaine didn't say anything more, but allowed the other party to hold her for warmth.
She still remembered that when the ascetic monk rushed out of the sea like a cannonball, Tracy even ignored the silent loss of a servant ship and reacted quickly to help her block the thunder of the indiscriminate attack.
Although there was a thunderstorm at the time, she could still clearly see the playful expression on the ascetic's face when he saw Tracy protecting her in battle.
Is that really a Storm Disciple?
But even so, I can't forgive her... During the recollection, Elaine turned her eyes slightly and looked at this female pirate who could feel each other's breath with her.
I scanned it up and secretly strengthened my determination.
I am a descendant of the Sauron family, and my life does not belong here, nor does it belong to the pirates who traffic in humans, burn, kill, and loot.
I will definitely return to Intis and restore the glory of my family!
Her red eyes were firm, and she squeezed slightly into Tracy's arms.
No, the wind in the Sunia Sea is too cold this season.
............
Therefore, this badge really has no negative effects. At most, it just makes me want to eat food with blood. Is this negative effect too low?
Klein, who was jolting on the steam subway, was recalling yesterday's personal science popularization by "Mysterious". His hand, which was touching the iron-black badge in his pocket, moved slower and slower.
After his careful testing yesterday, he discovered that this badge, which could barely reach the level of a demigod, could actually allow the spirit body he summoned through the advent ceremony to completely disguise the aura of a "shepherd".
Even a demigod might not be able to tell the difference immediately.
Well, after the spirit body accommodated this badge, I still heard vague murmurs, which were probably the murmurs of the true creator, but the existence of the gray mist should have helped me effectively isolate this thing that relied on the special power of the spirit world.
thing.
Could it be said that this is the real negative effect?
After all, I saw that Mr. A also contained this item in his body at the beginning... Of course, by their standards, hearing the voice of the true Creator should be considered good news and not an annoying negative effect at all.
Unfortunately, if I hadn't been worried about Louis Evans who lives in No. 15, I should have been able to experiment with other changes after accommodating this badge... The rumbling sound and less violent vibrations slowly stopped.
, Klein followed the crowd and walked off the steam train.
Looking at the not-crowded train platform in front of him, he suddenly felt lucky.
In this era, the people who took steam trains were mainly high-level workers and part of the middle class. The number of people riding steam trains was not very large, so he did not have to experience the crowded rush hell on earth again.
I really don’t know if this is a kind of sadness or a kind of comfort in the cold... Holding a chain-blade cane, wearing an Azik bronze whistle and an all-black badge in his clothes, Klein walked out of the station with a slight movement.
He looked around and nodded slightly in one direction.
Outside the station, with half of his face covered by newspapers, Ian also started to take action. After many twists and turns, he finally met his employer, who he usually didn't see often, in a coffee shop that he had been to several times.
"Good morning, Mr. Moriarty."
"Good morning, Ian." Klein, who had just ordered breakfast, raised his hat politely and smiled.