Chapter 195 Worry
The sea breeze, carrying the lingering smoke of gunpowder, swept across Port Morris, and the agate-colored waters lapped against the charred, capsized wreckage of ships on the shore. On that nightmarish day of the divine sacrifice, all the residents of Port Morris who hadn't had time to leave huddled in fear beneath their windows, constantly muttering the names of their gods amid the roaring explosions and the roaring spells outside.
Divine punishment, it must be Divine punishment.
The gods stripped away light and reason, bringing endless darkness and bloodshed upon Port Morris. But when the sun rose the next day, some brave residents trembled as they ventured out of their homes to see the iconic spire of City Hall broken. The silver fleur-de-lis banner that had once hung atop it had fallen to the ground, trampled beyond recognition. Outside the shattered window, a dark red velvet curtain draped upside down, cascading like a waterfall of dried blood. The general's statue in the center of the square was reduced to its lower half, its broken edge gleaming with fresh color.
[General Marton Ruskin, Conqueror of Port Morris.] This is what the bronze plaque beneath the statue reads.
riot.
It was not until the major newspapers used the most sensational way to print this word on the front page that the people of Port Morris suddenly realized that a riot had occurred on the day of the sacrifice to the gods.
Thunder rumbled from the horizon, and rain began to fall, perhaps the first rain of spring. Greven stood beneath the shattered dome of City Hall, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the blood clotted on his sleeve. During the aftermath, the mayor of Port Morris was found dead while fleeing. The unfortunate man had been shot through the chest by a stray bullet, perhaps even from the port garrison.
The excited and dazed victors gathered in the city hall. They were scarred and ragged, and tears welled up in their eyes as they looked at each other's smooth foreheads.
Did we succeed? Did we really succeed?
Many people felt a sense of unreality. A group of lowly slaves in shackles had actually occupied the entire port's city hall. It was like a group of extremely lucky thieves who, in a frenzy of joy, slipped into a luxurious and magnificent palace, but who knew when they would be taken to the guillotine by the palace owner and guards who would react.
Greven closed his eyes. Even he couldn't help but feel confused about the future at this moment, but he couldn't show it in front of his own people.
A strong smell of blood hit him in the face. Greven opened his eyes and saw the assassin's figure emerging from the shadows. The other party casually threw a head with wide-open eyes and a stubborn look in front of him.
"The head of General Ruskin, commander of the port garrison." The assassin casually flicked the blood from his knife, a clear sneer flashing in his iron-blue eyes. "This fellow was so frightened before dying that he crawled into a wine barrel. He's not living up to the Ruskin family's reputation at all."
"We need the commander alive." Ashes frowned beside him. "The Ruskin family is not a simple family. I'm afraid they'll suffer crazy revenge."
"Don't give me orders. I'm not one of your men." The assassin glanced at him coldly. "If a mere Ruskin family is causing you to hesitate, you might as well kneel before those bound members of parliament and beg for forgiveness."
Ashes was so irritated by this guy's sarcastic and prickly aura that he clenched his fists: "You——!"
"Alright," Greven interrupted the argument. "The situation is unstable right now. This is not the time for internal strife."
He hesitated, then looked in the direction of the assassin: "Is Mr. Ghost okay?"
"Alive." Orel snorted coldly.
He recalled the way the other person had silently collapsed before him. His friend, covered in blood, held the black-haired young man tightly in his arms. For a moment, the look in those blue eyes frightened him so much that he subconsciously took a step back.
But the other party did not blame anyone. He just gave a few instructions and hurried away with the person in his arms, leaving him and Ma Shilin standing there in a daze.
"Two bastards!" Suddenly, Marcylin gritted her teeth and punched the enemy who had attempted a sneak attack into the ground. Without saying anything, they rushed forward, scaring the enemy half to death and themselves half dead—these two guys were exactly the same in their arrogance.
Ole didn't say anything at the time, but the murderous intent in his body became more and more violent and sinister, so much so that Daniga couldn't help but secretly ask him if he was in a bad mood afterwards.
The assassin gritted his teeth.
He was clearly just a fragile, ordinary person, clearly a cold-hearted, profit-oriented guy—why would he rush over to replace him, even knowing that he would pay such a heavy price for it?
...Did they look down on his abilities? Doubt his loyalty? Or was it to avoid possible harm to him, thus achieving the so-called "optimal solution"?
Orel's pride did not allow him to ask, especially when he saw the tyrant again. The other party's eyes were out of focus and his face was bloodless, just like a pale ghost.
Maxine had already waved her hands in front of the group. The swaying sound in the wind made the black-haired young man frown and subconsciously reached out to pat it - but he didn't catch it, so he looked a little...dazed.
If it were in the past, Ole would definitely laugh at the other party loudly, but now he felt inexplicably upset.
The red-haired girl looked at him worriedly: "Your eyes..."
"It's temporary," the tyrant replied casually, seemingly unfazed by his blindness. He raised his head and gazed calmly ahead. "Ore, has your divine seal changed?"
I'm on your left, the assassin said with his arms folded across his chest, his face cold and stiff, and then received a half-smile in return.
- Don't bully him, his friend said with a smile on his face, glancing at him with a slight warning.
...How have I ever bullied anyone?! For a moment, Orel was furious and aggrieved. He had always hated owing favors to others, and this kind of "injustice" was simply unbearable. And now, the creditor who was forcing him to repeatedly owe him money happened to be his greatest enemy in a previous life.
The assassin shut up angrily, then asked Maxine to close her eyes while he honestly took off his shirt, revealing the divine seal on half of his body.
His friend's eyes turned golden, and Orel couldn't help but frown. A spell targeting the soul didn't feel good. But the next second, he was suddenly enveloped by a heart-wrenching pain that came from the depths of his soul.
The assassin fell to his knees amidst his companions' exclamations. He felt as if he were engulfed in fire, each mark of the divine seal a trace of a venomous snake crawling across it in excruciating pain. Ole heard himself screaming, and in his trance, he seemed to see something emerge from the black-haired youth, claws and fangs bared, attempting to pounce on him.
Without warning, a concept appeared in Ole's mind - it was Samuel, or rather, Samuel's remaining soul.
He could even vaguely sense the emotions and thoughts from the soul fragments of the God of Night and Death: rage, desire, anxiety... He could not wait any longer, this was his only chance. As long as he took the opportunity to leave the monster that devoured him and return to his slave, there would be a possibility of continuing to live.
But Samuel's soul seemed to be trapped by something stronger, brighter, and more terrifying.
The god's fear and despair were so clear that Orel couldn't help but tremble with him - but in the severe pain, he suddenly realized that he could not question the man's decision, but at the same time he could not share his burden in the slightest.
The moment Ole fell, the professor also stumbled back a few steps. Azuka frowned and quickly supported him. As his body slid weakly downward, she grabbed his arm with her backhand, her knuckles white as she squeezed so tightly that her nails almost dug into his flesh.
"Remember everything I say next." The black-haired young man spoke in a low voice and at an incredibly fast speed, so one had to be very careful to hear clearly.
At first, his voice was clear, though it sounded more like a series of undefined mumblings. But then he switched to a language he had never heard before. The black-haired young man even instinctively bit anything that touched his lips, whether it was his own fingers or the savior's shoulder.
The situation shifted rapidly. First, Ole suddenly collapsed to the ground, convulsing, his divine seals burning. Then, Mister Nova—Mashlin had never seen His Majesty like this before. He had completely collapsed, practically curled up in Azuka's arms like a child. But he was still trembling, as if he had suffered the most horrific torture in the world.
The soul-detecting spell had long been forced to cease. Azuka held the man tightly, massaging his back soothingly and whispering his name until his body gradually relaxed. The savior suddenly coughed up blood, his expression growing even more solemn.
His face looked extremely bad.
——Abyss, prophecy, turbulence...the Book of Creation?
The red-haired girl rushed to her companion, extremely anxious and angry.
Aside from her, the final counterattack from the fragments of the God of Night and Death's soul left everyone injured. Fortunately, when the assassin opened his eyes again, the divine seal on him had vanished without a trace. Aure struggled to his feet, muttering a curse under his breath. The joy of being free of the divine seal was replaced by a nagging worry.
"…Hey, how's he?"
His friend lowered his eyes and hugged him tighter, patting his back gently, looking very gentle. But when Ole caught his eye, he was so frightened that he couldn't help but take a step back, opened his mouth, but in the end, nothing came out.
...Experiencing the pain of powerlessness and frustration over and over again with the same person, this guy might have gone crazy a long time ago.
"'Alive', what does that mean?"
When Ole came to his senses, he saw the slave general's annoying amber eyes, which stared at his face calmly, trying to find some clues from them.
...Tsk, the person he is so anxious and angry about now is actually the former master of this guy in front of him. His fate is really fucked up.
"It's none of your business. Don't try to get information from me." The assassin said coldly, "When the master deems it necessary, he will naturally appear before you."
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