Above The Sky
Chapter 194 - 194 183 An Array of Martial Skills This is the Musketeer Team!

194: Chapter 183: An Array of Martial Skills, This is the Musketeer Team!

(2/3) 194: Chapter 183: An Array of Martial Skills, This is the Musketeer Team!

(2/3) The vast forest to the west of Harrison Port was once the territory where the Redwood Natives resided.

Back then, the Natives were scattered in every corner of the forest.

What appeared to be harmless woods on the outside hid thousands of different miasmas and poisonous insects.

Even Natives from the same tribe found it arduous to tread these grounds.

Therefore, Viscount Grant chose to bombard the area.

No matter the cost or expense, Viscount Grant’s confrontation with the Natives always involved plowing the land with ordinary gunpowder cannons first, followed by a few precise strikes from alchemical cannons, before letting the guard squad advance—because for this frontier immigrant district, which hardly had any surplus population, people were far more valuable than money.

Decades passed, and the jungles to the west of Harrison Port were now mostly filled with newly grown trees, those ancient toxins and witch insects had all been eradicated.

When the Natives were defeated six years ago and their territorial range greatly shrunk, this repeatedly swept area, yet not fully incorporated into Harrison Port’s influence, became known as the ‘Inner Wilds’.

And the parts of the forest where the Natives had withdrawn, but many miasmas and poisonous insects still lingered, were called the ‘Outer Wilds’.

Ian often went hunting in the Outer Wilds.

His game ranged from wild boars, deer, rabbits, squirrels, to unintelligible, small, four-legged beasts with bat-like heads—everything that could be found, he had captured at some point, not sparing even the mosquitoes.

All of this was to enrich the database of the Silver Chip.

Yes, to enrich the database.

Ian found that the Silver Chip did not recognize all types of creatures.

Its so-called identification was actually based on analyzing the knowledge extracted from its database after observing through Ian’s sensory organs, and then arriving at a conclusion.

Thinking about it, the chip was at least sixteen hundred years old, having witnessed the collapse of the New Moon; even if the initial data entrants were meticulous, they couldn’t possibly have recorded the various animals, plants, and insects that nature would phase out or evolve over the next thousand years.

The more Ian made the Silver Chip identify, the richer its database became, and the more effective the information it provided.

However, the more this happened, the more Ian felt that it was unlikely that this device was a creation of a former-era civilization.

Its functionality was far too powerful; it was definitely not something that could be made by specializing in one specific discipline…

Up to this point, all the former-era civilization creations Ian had seen did not match its style.

But Ian didn’t care too much about these things.

Ultimately, one should use a good thing when it’s available, without thinking too much about where it came from.

Redwood Forest, Outer Wilds.

With the high-pressure water gun hung at his waist and casually carrying a fine iron longsword priced at two talle from the blacksmith, Ian walked through the impenetrable woods of the Outer Wilds, surveying his surroundings for traces of his prey.

He was here to hunt.

In the Inner Wilds, most of the wild animals were small creatures like musk deer, birds, and unnamed rodents—they could fill one’s stomach if caught, but to really reap a large harvest, he had to search for untouched ecosystems in the Outer Wilds.

Now, Ian had ventured deep into the Outer Wilds.

A dense fog hung between the trees, like a veil soiled with dirt, through which one could faintly see some black trees hidden under the mist and the webs of the Mist Spiders, whose patterns were indiscernible in the fog.

The Mist Spider was a species possessing deadly poison and the potential to become a Magical Beast.

They were generally as big as a human head, their venom corrosive, and while their webs were not very tough, they were extremely sticky.

An inadvertent entanglement could leave a person disoriented, tumbling through the thickets and further enveloped by more webs, leading to subsequent bites and poisoning.

A Mist Spider that reached Demon Beast Level could further develop into the Decay Shadow Spider, which once dwelled deep in the Native Holy Land known as the ‘Miasma Forest’; therefore, their materials were quite valuable, whether for Magic Potions, poisons or alchemical potions.

But they were not Ian’s target.

“Indeed, as soon as I leave the city, there are Native scouts following me.”

Right now, with Foresight View and the Silver Chip activated, Ian could see all the creatures in the mist—whether it was the constantly moving spiders or the Natives, no one had a clearer view than he did.

As soon as Ian left the city, he realized that a group of Natives had spotted him, and a few of them immediately turned back to report to their stronghold.

Clearly, the Natives had a plan for Ian, but the specifics eluded him.

“Could it be another scheme by Patrick?

If so, they’re acting too quickly—and to collaborate so swiftly is proof enough that the Natives also despise me to the core.”

Ian wasn’t surprised by this at all.

After all, it was he who had defeated the Swamp Crocodragon years ago, causing the Great Shaman’s invasion plan to fall through.

Viscount Grant might deceive ordinary people, but as a witness on the battlefield at that time, the Great Shaman was absolutely clear about who his true enemy was.

Moreover, to the Natives, someone like him, a mere ‘Wave Singer,’ was an easy target to kill.

Ian saw them the same way.

“Hanging around the streets for so long, even the freewheeling Natives should be here by now.”

Just as Ian had expected, soon his Foresight View was flooded with batches of crimson shadows.

And on these misty figures, they all carried some sort of object that could give Ian a ‘sense of danger.’

The young man stopped walking and stood atop a decaying tree root in a clearing amidst the fog-filled forest.

The number of Native Hunters encircling him was also increasing.

For a time, the entire Misty Forest in the outskirts was engulfed in an eerie silence, with only the noise of the wind sweeping through the trees and causing the leaves to rustle, the only sound in this strange environment.

—The people were almost all here.

Confirming this, Ian nodded slightly and took a step forward.

“Disperse.”

At his word, his Origin Quality activated, and the surrounding water mist and miasma were instantly shaken and driven away, all the liquid obeying the young man’s voice and dissipating.

—The power of the ‘Wave Singer’ could control the flow of water with sound…

but it was only when propelling ships that he needed to sing continuously.

Normally, just a few sound waves were enough to accomplish many things.

Accompanying Ian’s clear shout, the water mist cleared, the fog in the woods visibly fading away, and all the Natives hiding around Ian, along with the Mist Spiders they cultivated, were revealed as the miasma dispersed.

They didn’t panic from being exposed; instead, all of them looked at Ian with hate-filled expressions, bordering on fanatical determination.

And when they were exposed, Ian couldn’t help but be surprised.

“Damn.”

His eyes widening, Ian saw the rows of evidently well-made firelocks, even Alchemical Firearms, in the hands of the Natives and felt a sense of absurdity that bordered on incredulity, “Natives are using firearms now?!

And such top-quality active Alchemical Firearms at that!”

“And they are not the standard Empire issue…

but a brand-new style I’ve never seen before!”

Now Ian had found out what could pose a threat to his unguarded self…

but as one question was answered, another, or even more, new questions arose.

Where did these firearms come from?

When did the Natives acquire them?

And…

“These firearms are much newer than those at Harrison Port; they seem to be of Fiery Flame Land style—worth studying.”

A silvery-blue halo lit up in his eyes; Ian, who had originally just planned to draw out the snake to see the situation, was now thoroughly motivated.

The firearms the Natives were aiming at him felt so real that the young man could vividly sense they were targeting his forehead, chest, arms, shoulders, and legs, leaving no blind spot.

—These people were already the best hunters; with the innate abilities of the Terra People, they could swiftly become the best gunmen.

So, Ian’s right hand held a sword while his left hand was poised on the high-pressure water gun at his waist, his gaze burning hotly towards the Natives whose hands were already on the triggers.

The next instant, the Natives pulled the triggers.

And Ian’s figure vanished from the spot.