All the navy soldiers were surprised to see that the thick black smoke spewed out by the warships suddenly seemed to have come to life, and they gathered together in an instant, forming a pair of giant black hands condensed from the smoke.
"Oh my god, what is that?" they couldn't help but exclaimed.
Because the giant black hands were so weird, the soldiers even suspected that they might be the work of some devil who wanted to take away their souls while they were buried in the sea.
"Is this also a trick of the Church of Light?" Moore Pott pondered intently.
But he quickly dismissed the idea.
Because the Church of Light is a church that pays great attention to its own image. No matter what it does, even if it is despicable, it will cover it up with shining light and disguise it as sacred and solemn.
These giant hands that look gloomy and strange are obviously not the work of the Church of Light.
"I feel the breath of magic," said magician consultant Farrell beside the commander. "These hands must be the work of a high-level magician."
It turned out to be magic! Moore Porter breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to Farrell and asked: "Mr. Farrell, didn't you just say that divine spells cannot be broken by magic?"
Consultant Farrell lowered his head, his face became a little embarrassed for a moment, and said: "I just said that with my own ability, it is impossible to break the magic. The magician who is casting the spell now must be higher than me.
He must be much stronger than me, maybe he has his own original methods."
"You are already a high-level mage..." Commander Morpert still felt a little puzzled.
"There is a vast amount of magic knowledge," Consultant Farrell said expressionlessly. "Even as high-level mages, we dare not say that we are omniscient and omnipotent. There will always be things we don't understand."
As they were talking, the giant black hands made of smoke suddenly tore open the invisible golden net of the Church of Light.
The dazzlingly bright sky quietly returned to its original state.
"Sir, our cannon is ready for use!" At this moment, a soldier excitedly ran to Moore Pott and reported to him.
Hearing this, Moore Pott was stunned for a while, then breathed a sigh of relief, with a smile on his face: "That's good. It seems that the mysterious high-level magician is our friend, not our enemy."
But Consultant Farrell still frowned.
Because as a respected high-level magician, no matter how carefully he observed at this time, he could not understand the principle of the black smoke giant hands to break the magic - this made him feel a strong feeling.
Frustration.
"I really want to know the identity of that mysterious magician," Moore Porter sighed from the bottom of his heart again. "If I have the opportunity to meet him, I will definitely thank him very much."
However, the Light Church's offensive did not stop there.
As the fleet of the Kingdom of Ferrand approached in the distance, Morpert and the soldiers of the Navy of the Kingdom of Braden once again heard the beautiful and melodious sound of hymns in the air - but compared to the previous sound, this time
Much clearer.
Although this sound was melodious and beautiful, in the ears of the soldiers of the Braden Kingdom, this sound was like a nightmare.
Along with this sound, the originally calm sea surface suddenly became violent, and huge waves suddenly arose, like countless menacing beasts, making earth-shattering roars on the sea surface.
The battleships of the Braden Kingdom were also violently swaying in the strong wind and waves.
The soldiers on the battleship had to hold on to the nearest railing tightly to barely stand firm.
However, Moore Pott was old, and his reflexes were not as good as those of young people. At the moment when the battleship started to shake, he lost his balance for a moment, his feet slipped, and he fell to the ground with a "plop".
My butt hurt so much that I screamed "Ouch".
Fortunately, at the moment he fell, the magician Farrell whispered a spell to stabilize his body.
Otherwise, the soldiers on the battleship will be lucky enough to see an unforgettable scene - the normally majestic commander turns into a ball, rolling around on the deck of the ship.
But the waves on the sea did not calm down, but became more violent amid the howling wind.
Each ship is like a leaf floating on the water, swaying up and down in the waves, and may be swallowed by the sea at any time and torn into countless pieces.
However, at the same time, the sea area where the Kingdom of Ferrand's fleet was located was still calm and calm, as if they were in another world, separated by a clear boundary.
Seeing such a scene, the magician Farrell tried to recite a few spells in an attempt to change the weather and restore calm to the sea.
But Dahai didn't want to pay attention to him.
He felt that all the efforts he made were like playing the piano to a cow.
“I don’t know if that mysterious magician will help us again,” Commander Moore Porter said in a low voice, holding on to the railing while looking at the rough sea, “I didn’t expect that the Church of Light would actually have
Such a powerful method. If the magician refuses to take action, we may really be buried in the sea."
The magician Farrell stood beside him, his face expressionless and he didn't say anything.
At this moment, he only felt that he was quite useless - all the magic knowledge he had learned in the Mage Tower before seemed to be in vain.
He has never realized what his teacher once said so deeply as he did today: "There is so much magic knowledge that you can never finish learning it. Never be complacent no matter when and where you are."
"I also want to know who the mysterious magician is," Farrell thought to himself secretly. "If I am lucky enough to know him, I will definitely beg him to be my teacher. He can use magic to decipher the god of the Church of Light.
It's not something that ordinary people can do."
…………
At this moment, an extraordinary picture once again appeared on the rough sea——
A canoe cut through the waves, facing the fierce wind, and sailed slowly towards the fleet of the Braden Kingdom.
The huge steamer was teetering on the waves.
The boat was only big enough for one person, but it was smooth and steady, and even seemed a bit leisurely. It didn't look like being on a battlefield at all, but like fishing on a small pond in the countryside.
Moore Pott and Farrell held on to the railing and struggled to hold up the binoculars, and finally saw clearly the figures on the boat.
He was a tall, thin, handsome young man wearing a black cloak.
He had a smile on his face, as if he was not afraid of any storm; his eyes were clear, as if he could encompass everything in the world.