Elias really wanted to say:
He wasn't tired.
He just wanted to pick out a decent burial plot for himself in advance.
Even if his current rate of spiritual recovery far exceeded that of other transcendents at his level,
and even if his base spiritual reserves were massive enough,
there was still a limit to it.
An individual's extraordinary power was already stretched thin when facing an organized army.
What was more, what was appearing on the sea right now was not an army at all.
It was a wave of monsters acting purely on bloodthirsty instinct.
The commotion on the sea was growing louder and louder.
Splash!
In the dark waters untouched by the pier's searchlights, countless grayish-blue heads were popping up one after another.
The entire coastal area looked like a pot of seafood porridge with the lid suddenly ripped off.
Those sea-folk creatures unleashed piercing screeches, trampling over their companions' bodies as they began a frantic advance toward the shore.
There were too many of them.
So many that a single glance was enough to breed despair.
Faced with such overwhelming numbers, staying behind to hold the line was pure suicide.
Behind the nearby cover,
Xia'an and Dabu had no time to tend to their minor injuries.
The two of them nimbly reloaded their alchemical ammunition.
Just as the battle was about to erupt once more,
deep within the distant thick fog, an extremely urgent copper whistle suddenly blew.
The whistle carried immense penetrating power, bearing the distinct authority of the authorities.
Immediately after,
a heavy, thundering sound of hooves approached from the distance.
Several black-painted, two-horse emergency carriages brutally crushed the thin ice over the puddles on the ground, charging straight into the pier's combat zone.
On the side of the carriages,
the shield emblem representing the Kingdom of Velen's highest supernatural handling agency—the Seventh Agency—flashed in the dying firelight.
Before the carriages had even come to a complete stop,
the doors were kicked open.
Several official investigators in black uniforms jumped down with practiced ease.
Without needing any orders from their commander,
two investigators quickly turned around, working together to haul a heavy brass arc searchlight out from the back of the carriage.
The other three investigators pulled out specially made, folding runic barricades.
A sturdy temporary physical defensive line was forcibly established.
“Turn on the lights!”
Along with a loud shout,
the spell circuits inside the brass searchlight lit up, activating the 【Dawn Radiance】 spell.
The next second,
several white-gold beams of light ripped through the thick fog over the pier,
sweeping straight across the sea.
Wherever the light beams passed, the seawater seemed to boil.
The moment the low-tier sea-folk creatures that had just popped their heads up in an attempt to land were struck by the white-gold light,
their scales immediately hissed as they burned.
They shrieked in pain, retreating in a panic back into the deep waters.
The intersecting beams of light formed an impassable forbidden zone across the sea.
The pressure on the defensive line dropped instantly.
Xia'an, whose nerves had been stretched taut, finally let out half a sigh of relief.
She immediately hung her lantern back on her waist and strode toward the approaching commander of the reinforcements.
“Dainfield, still operational!”
“Dabu, minor injuries!”
Xia'an spoke with extreme speed and clarity, wasting no words.
“A large-scale gathering of sea-folk has been spotted on the east side of the pier, advancing toward the shore.”
“Additionally, all Missionaries of the Mist Veil Society have been confirmed eliminated.”
“However, high-intensity supernatural contamination has been left at the scene, suspected to be related to a Divine Scion. Please take protective measures!”
Hearing this highly standardized official debriefing process,
Elias, who had been standing near the cover, silently took two steps back.
Excellent.
The official takeover process had officially begun.
The remaining mess should be left to the professionals.
He watched as a steady stream of Seventh Agency agents arrived, methodically reinforcing the defensive line and driving back the sea-folk.
Suddenly,
a rough, heavy hand reached over and gave Elias a firm pat on the back.
“We should go!”
Old Crowley's voice rang in his ear.
The old man's pat gave Elias a sudden jolt.
Only then did he remember.
He had almost forgotten his main task.
His work wasn't finished yet!
Damn it...
But on second thought,
fortunately, he had this unfathomably powerful white-bearded old man by his side.
In the upcoming actions, he could coast along with a clear conscience.
With such a powerhouse to carry him,
who wouldn't want more battles where they didn't have to be the main force?
Elias looked back.
Compared to when he had to fight the mountain of flesh head-on back at the Lily of the Valley Convent, this was already much easier.
Besides,
no matter how one looked at it, he should be classified as wounded right now.
Did soul damage not count as an injury?
The consecutive Soul Screams tonight had already caused the old wounds in his soul to throb with pain.
If he could avoid fighting, he absolutely would.
Elias could finally say he had personally experienced the joy of being carried by a powerhouse today.
“So where exactly are we going?”
Elias asked, turning his head as he followed the old man along the shadows toward the edge of the pier,
his eyes filled with confusion and suspicion.
“The nearest lighthouse,”
Old Crowley had a grim expression.
“The scale of this beast tide is far too abnormal.”
“It has everything to do with that lighthouse.”
Old Crowley paused, then added with certainty:
“I have reason to suspect the keeper of that lighthouse is dead.”
“Or, the position has changed hands.”
For the sea-folk to launch a large-scale landing, they indeed had to pass through the defensive line established by the lighthouses first.
However,
was that any reason to draft him on a whim?
And even now, the old man still hadn't explained why he went to such great lengths to bring that foolish reporter aboard.
Forget it...
Elias suddenly felt a deep sense of helplessness.
It was the helplessness of poor communication.
The old man harbored too many secrets, and he had absolutely no intention of sharing them.
But it didn't matter anymore.
Elias reached into his coat and felt the Gluttonous Stomach tucked inside,
feeling the hard object resting within it.
At any rate, the pendulum was now safely in his possession.
His deal with the old man had officially begun.
Even if he wanted to avoid whatever dangerous spots lay ahead, he couldn't.
Otherwise,
how else was he supposed to get that vital curse-removal recipe? Was he going to wait for it to fall from the sky?
See, this was exactly what he had always worried about—someone using the curse-removal recipe to leverage his help.
And because things had happened so suddenly, the old man still hadn't handed over the advance portion of the recipe.
“Fine, let's go,”
Elias sighed.
Just as he turned his head,
he saw Bloodsong nearby, hunching his shoulders,
trying to slip away under the cover of the shadows cast by the shipping containers.
He clearly wanted no part in whatever was coming next.
“Bloodsong, you're coming too.”
Old Crowley didn't even turn around.
But his voice sounded like a whisper from an Archduke of Hell,
which froze Bloodsong in his tracks.
His movements stiffened, and his face twisted into a look of pure misery.
“...Lord... Crowley,”
Bloodsong's voice trembled.
“I already helped just now. Can I skip this one?”
“No.”
Old Crowley's response was absolute.
There were only those cold words, leaving no room for negotiation.
The protest was ruthlessly dismissed.
And so, Bloodsong could only drag his feet, reluctantly following behind in low spirits.
The three of them prepared to withdraw from the combat zone.
“Wait!”
Just then,
an urgent shout came from behind.
Xia'an quickly caught up to them.
“Mr. Rock... Wayne.”
She stood tall, her tone businesslike, carrying a sharp, undeniable scrutiny.
“It seems you haven't fulfilled your duty as an informant for the Seventh Agency yet, have you?”
Elias was forced to stop.
Rubbing his temples in exasperation, he turned and said to Old Crowley ahead:
“Just a moment.”
He was met with the white-bearded captain's impatient reply:
“Make it quick!”
Then,
our young Mr. Wayne took a deep breath and faced the approaching Xia'an.
Faced with the investigator's questioning, he didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he turned his head with extreme caution,
his eyes quickly swept over the surrounding Seventh Agency personnel who were busily moving about.
Only then did Elias look back at Xia'an.
“Mental Channel.”
Rate on N.U.
