Above The Sky
Chapter 342 - 342 315 Shasha Save Me!

342: Chapter 315 Shasha, Save Me!

(2/3) 342: Chapter 315 Shasha, Save Me!

(2/3) The Bishop of White Mist is here; everyone can feel at ease.

With his combat strength, unless there are several Sea Battle Armors entangling him or an Aether Armament comes at him head-on, it’s unlikely that anyone could stop him.

However, what is less reassuring is that considering the current convergence of forces at Harrison Port, sending out a few Armor Suits to engage the Bishop of White Mist would not be too difficult.

“I’ll inform the Viscount.”

The Bishop of White Mist took out a silver metallic cylinder about as thick as two fingers from his bosom, twisted it to confirm the frequency, and then closed his eyes.

The halo of Spirit Energy lit up from behind his tightly shut eyes, and streaks of silver-white light began to glow on the metallic cylinder as well.

“Good.”

After a while, the light arcs on the metallic cylinder dissipated, and the Bishop of White Mist opened his eyes, calmly stating, “The Viscount says that someone will come to pick us up shortly; he and Canaan Moore as well as the fleet of Fiery Flame Land have had a conflict, and they are now negotiating and exchanging views.”

Glancing at the fireworks rising in the distance, Ian understood.

Clearly, the parties involved in the exchange had thoroughly shared their opinions, but they had not reached a consensus.

What needed to be done next was to wait.

About an hour later, a sailing ship enveloped in White Mist appeared before everyone’s eyes.

Looking up, Ian could confirm this was the ship coming to get them.

The White Mist swirling around the sailboat was a method of camouflage created by Viscount Grant using his abilities, and there was also a familiar presence on board.

“Ian!

And all the honored guests!”

Sure enough, the next moment, a loud and familiar voice rang out through the storm: “Hurry aboard, the surrounding sea is not very peaceful!”

“It’s Uncle Senan.”

His gaze piercing through the dim fog and the pelting heavy rain, locking onto the figure of the white-haired captain, Ian was slightly startled, then smiled.

He could tell that the captain of the swift ship was indeed Senan, and the burly, dark-skinned uncle also had a hint of blue aura about him.

It seemed that Elder Prude had indeed given the Wavechanter Potion he made to this ‘acquaintance’ and had sent him as the pickup.

There were no signs of mutation in Senan, and the Origin Quality within him was operating without any problems, proving that his potion making skills were indeed quite advanced.

The next step would be to attempt further experiments.

Without any unnecessary chitchat, everyone boarded the ship.

Surrounded by a mist of water, the swift ship set sail once again.

Two Wave Singers exerted their power, making its speed even faster, hurtling toward the port so swiftly that not even ironclad ships could catch up.

But meanwhile, in the distant sea area.

A lurking Sea Battle Armor was observing.

[Coordinates U sector 1285, 245, status level one, target confirmed]

[Beginning to direct gunfire]

Obviously, those who had just left the ruins were still caught up in excitement and emotion.

Though they were aware that the outside of the ruins was surrounded by multi-national fleets, anticipating the actions of an enemy like the fleet of Fiery Flame Land, which held a ‘destroy if can’t have’ mentality, was somewhat challenging.

Except for Ian.

The moment he stepped onto the fast sailing ship piloted by Uncle Senan, Ian sensed something was amiss.

—How come, aside from the few Sublimators around me, everyone on the ship is a bright crimson color?

Even the Frost Butterfly above my head is emanating a scarlet hue…

It’s a Primal Fairy protected by my strength, so how could it be so fragile?

Remembering the surrounding cannon fire, he immediately thought of several possibilities.

Plus, having encountered those special forces from Fiery Flame Land in the ruins before, the young man felt that he was starting to understand their combat culture.

“Uncle Senan, change course!”

With a halo of blue light swirling in his eyes, Ian shouted without hesitation, and even before he had time to accept the warm tea handed by the crew, he cried out, “Left—no, right!

Full speed to the right, no, advance with spiral maneuvers!”

In just a moment, the young man had changed his orders several times based on the shifts in the mist around the crew members.

If it were any other normal captain, not to mention obeying Ian’s commands, how could they understand Ian’s intentions on the spot?

But Senan, after all, had been well-acquainted with Ian for many years.

Without thinking, he vacantly accepted the young man’s orders, repeating loudly: “Alright!

Advance with spiral maneuvers to the right!”

Immediately, under Senan’s command, the sails creaked and turned with the rotation of inscribed machinery, and the entire high-speed sailboat began a highly complex rotational maneuver, leaving a long white trail on the sea as it veered off its original course.

No one could understand why these two White Folks suddenly started such strange and surreptitious communication.

In the minds of the crew members who were not very familiar with Ian and Senan, an unlikely suspicion even popped up.

—Ian and Senan are spies; their current actions are to lead away Master Gossay and Yisen Gard to the fleets of other forces and capture the two!

It was indeed a conjecture full of imagination, but soon, reality told them that they had, indeed, thought too much.

Because cannon fire was falling from the sky.

Boom boom boom boom boom—!!

Accompanied by the sound of rain curtains and waves being pierced, a world-splitting roar sounded as one after another, crimson trails of cannonballs fell like meteors, crashing into the sea where the ships were originally headed.

Waves and shockwaves rapidly approached, causing the sailing ship to violently shake as if it were about to fall apart.

And that wasn’t the end, because the artillery was designed for area saturation; even more intense cannon fire accompanied by piercing screeches rained down incessantly, turning the faces of all sailors deathly pale.

“What do we do next!”

In the midst of the thunderous explosions, Senan, his dark complexion turning as white as his own hair, shouted with a bitter expression: “Someone must be signaling their position to the fleet!”

He had to shout, otherwise his voice would have been drowned out by the thick booming of the cannonballs, not to mention the impact waves that continuously slapped against the side of the ship, making it hard for him to steer.

Moreover, some of the sailors with poorer physical fitness had already collapsed on the deck, frothing at the mouth.

Their internal organs were impacted, even their vision blurred due to the violent shaking, feeling the world spin around them.

The firepower of the navy’s artillery was a bit too much for these ordinary fishing sailors.

On the sea, the flames reflected against each other, looking like a bouquet of fire-shaped flames had been lit on the surface of the water.

Below the vast curtain of rain, a circular explosion had already formed.

“What else can we do?

Full steam ahead in a straight line!”

To this, Ian responded loudly, his voice clearly not as strained as Senan’s, but it seemed to pour directly into everyone’s brains, ringing like church bells: “Don’t worry about that Armor Suit.

I’ll find a way to deal with it!”

Having said that, he took a deep breath and then raised his left hand, calling out: “Shasha!”

“Save me!”

Buzz, the sensation of electricity zipping by flashed momentarily.

“Oh?”

As the privileges of the Labyrinth Master transferred back into the relic, Shasha, who was now swimming in Crystal Lake, suddenly felt a calling.

If it had been someone else giving it that sensation, it might have thought it was an illusion.

Of course, because it was Ian, Shasha didn’t hesitate and immediately sprung into action!

Outside, the seas were raging and the storms furious, the Southern Sea’s offshore waters dark and gloomy, with the sea and sky glued together by continuous clouds, illuminated only by occasional flashes of lightning.

But at that moment, man-made lightning was being produced continuously amidst a fleet.

Aboard the massive High-Speed Battleship, the triple-mounted giant cannons spat out dozens of meters of electric flame tongues, fireballs tearing the atmosphere apart, bombarding the distant waters.

In the midst of the roaring thunderous noise between sea and sky, aboard the flagship ‘Nan Guang Hao’ (Southern Light) of the Second Legion of the Fiery Flame Land, of the Stormy Ocean fleet.

Count Orbalia, a navy Rear Admiral, frowned upon receiving the frontline report.

“Not destroyed?

They actually managed to evade and turn around?”

“What, you lost them?!

How is that possible!”

This Rear Admiral seemed unable to accept this possibility and appeared quite agitated: “What exactly happened?”

It’s no wonder he couldn’t calm down.

After all, though he bore the title of Earl, Orbalia’s status wasn’t actually that noble.

The nobility system of the Fiery Flame Lands was very different from The Empire or other nations.

In places like Abassalom or Nemasases, only the direct bloodline of the kings was recognized as ‘noble blood’ and considered true nobility.

Whereas other Sublimators, even if they could wield power and hold noble titles, they weren’t hereditary; these so-called noble titles were simply tied to their official positions as a social class.

Earl Orbalia might sound noble, but in reality, he was nothing more than a high-level worker.

This system might seem bizarre and apparently unfriendly to Sublimators, but the society of the Fiery Flame Lands was actually quite stable.

After all, as long as one had enough strength and capability, anyone could hold a noble title and even have the chance to marry into ‘noble blood,’ strengthening their offspring’s bloodline and even securing the right of succession to the throne!

Simply put, the channels for ascent were very clear.

Apart from how difficult it was to reach the top, an ordinary person, theoretically, could strive to be second to only one and above thousands of others through hard work.

With some luck, future generations might even become one of the kings themselves, right?

After all, the true ‘noble blood’ only refers to the kings themselves and the first generation of progeny who inherited their bloodline powers.

By the second generation and later, if one possessed sufficient strength and contributions, they might be recognized and acknowledged as a ‘descendant’ of the current ‘king,’ entitled to the succession of the throne.

But without sufficient bloodline purity and capabilities, even noble blood can be demoted to commoner status, becoming mere Sublimators or even ordinary people.

This unique nobility system, essentially, stemmed from a special inheritance within the line of the kings of the Fiery Flame Lands.

Their unique Bloodline Inheritance not only required bloodline but also a ‘heritage treasure’ that was passed down through generations.