Chapter 239 This boy has the eyes of a saint

The morning sun shone obliquely on the sea, shining a layer of silver halo.

Every time the ship passed through the waves, the halo would sway slightly, as if the sea was breathing.

The chill brought by the sea breeze cannot be eliminated even under the shining sun.

On the second floor of this large merchant ship heading to the city of Lilom, the wooden furniture and decorations looked exquisite and warm. Viscount Francis sat at the dining table with a brocade tablecloth in front of him and silver tableware lined up.

The middle-aged man was wearing a dark grey suit with the family crest embroidered with gold thread. Although his eyes looked a little tired, his meticulous dress still made him look dignified and elegant, and his slender fingers showed some traces of having used a sword.

He gently forked up a piece of smoked salmon and put it into his mouth, unconsciously keeping his brows slightly frowned as he chewed.

However, it was not because the chef did not perform well today.

"Alas, I'm afraid it will be difficult to deal with the imperial capital this year."

He sighed in his heart but didn't say it out loud.

The Protean Empire had seventeen provinces.

The city of Lilom is located in the most remote area of ​​the already poor southwestern province. If it were not located along the sea, it would almost be a fortress city-state in the forest.

Today, the Protoss Empire is in an extremely dangerous situation with the countries led by the Kingdom of Aethertalan in the northwest of the empire. A full-scale war in the northern continent may break out at any time, and all it needs is an opportunity to ignite this fire of the century.

Although the war will not spread to their city in the southern rear, once the war breaks out, issues such as conscription and taxation may become a burden that their remote small territory cannot bear.

Not only that, the most ridiculous decision the empire has made now is to recruit the Church of Resurrection.

This behavior of seeking the skin of a tiger might be seen as a clever way to keep the tiger at the side by the powerful people in the imperial capital, and it did cause great terror and deterrence to the northern countries, but for civilians, it was undoubtedly a disaster.

Even a border city like theirs was in a state of panic because of the Resurrectionists on the streets.

At this moment, there was a knock on the door, interrupting Viscount Francis's thoughts.

"Do you have plans this morning?"

As Viscount Francis finished speaking, a young man dressed as a commander slowly walked in. He was Francis' secretary and also his bodyguard.

"My Lord Viscount, the guest has woken up."

The secretary reported in a calm tone.

Francis slowly swallowed the food in his mouth and nodded, "Okay, I understand. Prepare some tea and fruit and send them to his cabin. I'll be there in a moment."

For people who have been shipwrecked and may not have eaten for a long time, it would be better to eat some fruits and vegetables and drink water before eating.

Magical storms have been surging at sea recently, and passenger and merchant ships at the imperial port have stopped sailing south.

The closer you get to the sea between the north and south continents, the more frequent the accidents become.

According to the Empire's investigation report, disaster scientists generally believe that two extremely terrifying creatures fought a desperate battle in the sea area to the south, and the unrestrained collision of magic power further intensified the spread of the natural catastrophic magic wave.

"Yes, sir."

The secretary bowed slightly and then left the restaurant.

Not long after, Francis finished his breakfast. He put down his cutlery, wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin, adjusted his tie, and stood up with his cane.

It was originally just a normal trip to a large eastern port city to visit old friends and conduct some business, but this time there was a little episode.

Last night, a violent storm had just raged over the sea, and the huge waves seemed to be trying to swallow their merchant ships again and again. However, this was nothing special for them who had experienced many storms.

However, suddenly a loud "bang" sound broke through the air, clearly penetrating the night and reaching the ears of the crew members on the side of the ship.

The experienced crew members could judge the material of the colliding objects - wood - just by the slight sound.

When the crew leaned over to take a look, they found that it seemed to be a piece of ship wreckage. However, surprisingly, there was a young man attached to the wood.

This young man, who looked to be about seventeen or eighteen years old, seemed to be the darling of fate. He was firmly caught by a piece of driftwood, drifted with the current, and fortunately stopped next to their merchant ship.

What was even more gratifying was that the collision just now did not cause him any harm, as if someone had used magic to bring him to the side of the ship.

The crew members immediately braved the wind and waves to rescue the boy.

Viscount Francis also issued instructions immediately, ordering the doctor on the ship to quickly treat the wounded boy and take care of him to the best of his ability.

The boy's brown hair was as soft as silk, and his clothes were unique, as if he was a visitor from a distant foreign country.

Logically speaking, unidentified people should not be rescued.

At this juncture in time, everyone in the Protoss Empire is in danger. If they are not careful, they may be labeled as a "heretic" or a "surrenderist" by people with ulterior motives.

But Viscount Francis has always believed in the guidance of the goddess of fate and the principle that good and evil will be rewarded. At least he will not harm the young man until he is sure of his identity.

There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!

"Well, if we can't make it in two years, we can take Zestira to the southern continent. At least they won't be so absurd as to label the Church of the Goddess of Fate a cult."

Viscount Francis walked to the window, took a look at the rough sea and the unpredictable weather at sea today, and sighed.

Anyway, his daughter has suffered prejudice and discrimination since she was a child in Protoss Empire because of her demon characteristics. The worst that can happen is that she will give up her current noble status and go to the southern continent to start over.

Although it is difficult to find a country in the southern continent that treats demons equally, at least it is not like the Protoss Empire where even hiding racial characteristics is a death penalty.

Viscount Francis walked to the door, opened the heavy cabin door, and stepped out. In the red-carpeted corridor, there were several chandeliers burning whale oil. The flickering light made people feel that they could feel a little warmth of home even at sea.

His steps were steady, but he was always thinking about something.

Finally, he arrived at the guest room and saw the secretary waiting at the door. After a brief exchange and a nod, Viscount Francis knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Hearing the gentle response from inside, Viscount Francis pushed open the door and walked in.

The air in this simply decorated but fully furnished bedroom is filled with a mixture of sea water and damp wood.

I saw a brown-haired young man sitting by the bed. He had beautiful emerald green eyes, and not only was his left eye covered with gauze, but the bandage was slightly exposed from the cuffs of his black suit, extending from his wrist to his elbow and passing through his collar.

The strength of his magic power is probably only at the first level.

But he doesn't look like a battle-hardened warrior with delicate skin.

Only because of his strong vitality, he was able to survive despite suffering such a serious and fatal injury.

According to the secretary, the brown-haired young man seemed to have difficulty communicating in the language at first, but he had a tool card with translation magic on him, so he was soon able to communicate normally.

Although the conversation had not started yet, Viscount Francis felt that he would not be a bad person after the first glance at him.

Because his eyes were clear, naturally filled with compassion and thoughtfulness, but not a single bit for himself.

Just to see the suffering of all living beings.

That is the gaze of a saint.

(End of this chapter)