Above The Sky
Chapter 223 - 223 212 Viscount!

223: Chapter 212 Viscount!

Save me!

(1/4) 223: Chapter 212 Viscount!

Save me!

(1/4) Of course, Ian wasn’t panicking even though it seemed almost certain he’d die.

Almost dying and actually being certain to die are not the same thing.

The purpose of a Prophet is to find a thoroughfare through seemingly impossible crises.

Humming…

the armor suit’s engine ran smoothly.

“Pirates.”

Ian spoke, querying the captive, “Do you know if you and the natives are in cahoots?”

“No!”

The elf pirate, who had been anxiously waiting to answer, replied immediately and accurately, “Our only targets are to kill Yisen Gard…

and…

um…

you.”

Because Ian had turned his head to ask the question, Andor immediately understood why Patrick had said, “You’ll know who the target is as soon as you see them.”

The youth’s eyes were clear and bright, gentle like water, but if one truly looked into them, they would feel an icy fear.

It was a fear of being entirely transparent, one’s every flaw and delusion laid bare to another’s gaze.

Compared to this abashing dread, the pretty fair face was secondary…

although it was indeed very handsome, there were elves who could match his looks.

One of his mission targets was to kill him?

What kind of big move was his boss making, to so casually order the killing of such a person?

Instinctively harboring such doubts, Andor soon heard the next question, “What’s the communication code for your pirate fleet?”

“1453156258.”

The pirate captain reported the sequence of numbers as briskly as he could, “Lords, if you’re going to kill me, please make it quick.

The torment just now was really unnecessary…”

“Your turn to die isn’t here yet.

Later, when there’s time, you’ll need to spill everything about your relationship and communications with Patrick.”

Interrupting the captive, Ian calmly shook his head in denial.

Now indeed was not the time for this elf pirate to die.

He was evidence of Patrick’s collusion with pirates, a part of a grand conspiracy, which could confirm the other party’s assassination acts, and perhaps, even more details could be unearthed.

If nothing else, he could also be thrown out as bait.

Killing him now would be unnecessary and wasteful.

Beep beep beep— The young man entered the code at top speed, activating the armor suit’s communication console.

He sent a signal on the public channel: [Emergency!

Viscount, we’re here!

I’ve got the armor suit, but the Native Great Shaman has intercepted us.

Come help us when you’re done fighting!]

Ian repeated this message over a dozen times, stopping only once the Viscount, likely preoccupied with battle, briefly replied ‘okay’.

“That’s it.”

Having done all that, Ian breathed out and said, “We’ve done all we could, at least there will be someone to avenge us.”

“Huh?”

Yisen Gard said blankly, “With Uncle Grant on our side, do we still need to be avenged?”

“Your Uncle Patrick isn’t an easy one to deal with, not to mention the Totem Master from the natives is involved too.”

Ian’s thoughts were clear, “Right now we have a sea eel chasing us from behind—not urgent, since it’s slower than us.”

“Mainly, it’s what’s in front of us.

My spirit energy has detected a huge aggregation of water and earth elements.”

His gaze slightly hardened, the young man said solemnly, “In the entire Southern Sea, the only Second Energy Level water-earth dual-element Origin Structure is the Totem Master, the Spirit of the Mountain Tide, the Swamp Crocodile Dragon, controlled by the Native Great Shaman.”

“He seems to be able to sense our movements, so he is already waiting for us on our inevitable path.”

Meanwhile, in the Southern Sea, at the ocean floor.

The Swamp Crocodile Dragon moving at the bottom of the deep sea kept changing its course as if it could foresee the situation afar, always intercepting the group of people ahead.

The Native Great Shaman was not in a hurry.

Since fusing with the Crocodragon, his spirit became connected with the other three Totem Masters… the Forest Sea, the two Gargantuan Eels, and himself, four chaotic and scattered wills bound together by the Redwood People’s “Sacrificial Rite”.

Their souls were elevated through worship time and again, even though they gradually lost some autonomy, they became purer and more noble, nearing the pure existence of Life Energy and Spirit at the Third Energy Level.

They could even sense that pure “Natural Spirit Energy”.

This is also why some Magical Beasts actively sought out the Natives, preferring to fuse with human Shamans and become the totemic focus of their worship.

Because this could be the second system on the Terra Continent, aside from the pure Magic Potion System… a path that combines the Life Spirit Energy within all beings with Natural Spirit Energy.

A process of elevation to “All Spirits as One”.

But sadly, this was an immensely difficult and arduous path… The Native Great Shaman sensed its feasibility due to his talent, but his successors, and even their successors, might never grasp it in their lifetimes.

Without a systematic inheritance, and not enough talented people dedicating themselves to become the foundation of this path…

that was the sorrow of the Natives.

So…

“We need to reclaim the Holy Ground.”

The key inside him vibrated, and the Native Great Shaman’s six eyes looked ahead; he noticed that Viscount Grant had reached this sea area.

This was good.

Once he captured his target and exchanged with the other party, he could get the last key and open the Gate to the Holy Ground before the anomaly would completely unfold.

It was already in sight.

The swiftly moving Armor Suit had come into view deep within the sea.

Even the Gargantuan Eels chasing from behind could be vaguely seen, as the Rising Tide Spirit stirring the tides had already sealed off all the retreat paths of the small Armor Suit.

So, the enormous Crocodragon emitted a dull chant at the bottom of the sea—with the tips of its stone spikes lighting up with earthy yellow halos, large chunks of rock and sand rose in waves at the deep ocean floor.

The turbid sea-bed clouds, like a dark wall of clouds, pressed forward in a dense mass.

And just when the Native Great Shaman saw Ian and the others.

Ian also saw the Native Great Shaman.

After six years, the other’s power had not improved much and had even weakened somewhat—unlike the Empire, which had abundant healing resources and methods, the native healing was mostly limited to transferring Life Essence to accelerate healing and regeneration.

This did not enable the Magical Beasts to self-repair their damaged Origin Structure, they could only wait for time to slowly fill in the missing parts.

Six years was not long enough; the shot that Ian had controlled the Alchemical Cannon to fire into its innards had truly seriously injured this Totem Master.

Just a slight reduction in strength was already a fairly good outcome…

After all, the Crocodragon, with the wisdom of the Great Shaman, was still a Behemoth capable of contending with Viscount Grant.

At least, the current Ian, even when piloting the Armor Suit, would not dare to lightly declare ‘victory’.

It might even be about ‘surviving’.