The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 110 - 110 70 Sword Saint Fiore Possession!

110: Chapter 70 Sword Saint Fiore Possession!

110: Chapter 70 Sword Saint Fiore Possession!

“Muskets, volley fire!”

Accompanied by the Beagle’s marine troop members charging up the gangplank, the musketeers guarding the Beagle decisively opened fire to cover their companions boarding the enemy ship.

And Arthur, who was the first to climb onto the deck of the Black Thorn, hacked a breach for the marine troopers on the deck like a battle-axe.

The marine troop commander kicked over an enemy in front of him and then slew his life with a curved saber; his opponent’s blood spurted all over his face.

Wiping the blood off his face, the commander then glanced towards Arthur, unable to resist a ferocious grin.

“Good lad, you’ve really got what it takes!

Marines, hear my command!

Protect his flanks, create as many one-on-one opportunities for Officer Hastings as possible!”

Standing before Arthur was a broad and husky man with his upper body exposed, the first mate of the Black Thorn.

He looked at his screaming, fallen companion beside him, unable to comprehend how his opponent managed to arrive there in an instant like a butterfly flitting through flowers.

Perspiration beaded his forehead, but he still wanted to show his toughness to Arthur.

He spat out a mouthful of saliva and picked up the greatsword that had fallen to the ground, saying, “Kid, I advise you to go back now.

Do you know who I am?

I’ve followed ‘Jean Lafitte.’ Have you heard of his great name?”

Arthur nodded: “Of course, I’ve heard of him.

Because this pirate sold the sailing information of the Atlantic fleet to the Americans in the 1812 naval battle, Britain’s Government and the Navy Department have put a bounty of thirty thousand pounds on his head.”

Feeling smug upon hearing this, the first mate said, “Glad you know.

Get out of here, now, mister, and if you refuse, I cannot guarantee what will happen next.”

“Although you’re just a little follower of his, if I hand over your ears…”

Arthur smiled slightly, spaced his legs half a step apart, and held his sword horizontally at his brow, adopting a standard window guard stance.

“Perhaps I could still make a small fortune, right?”

“You motherfucker…

I see you prefer punishment to a toast!”

Perhaps out of fear, or perhaps due to the gunpowder and blood filling the air, the big man suddenly bellowed, his arms bursting with veins as he lifted the heavy greatsword and smashed it down towards Arthur with the force of Mount Tai descending.

Arthur, upon seeing this, did not dodge; he lifted his sword upward, using the blade to shield his head, seemingly intending to meet the big man’s force head-on.

But at the moment of contact between the two swords, a crisp ‘ding’ was heard, and Arthur’s wrist, agile like a snake’s head, made a forty-five-degree deviation; his body and the officer’s sword then drifted to the right like a pliant sea breeze.

This slight motion caused Arthur’s body to just dodge the big man’s all-out strike while his sword slashed obliquely at a forty-five-degree angle.

It was too late for the first mate to dodge at this point; in his panic, he tried to retrieve his greatsword that was smashed into the deck, but then he realized that Arthur’s left arm had already pinned his right wrist.

In desperation, he let go with his left hand, raising his muscular left arm attempting to block the strike aimed at his face.

However, as he changed his move, Arthur also altered his technique; he slightly drew back his sword and then transformed the slash into a thrust, piercing through the man’s back.

A heart-piercing pain shot to the big man’s brain, his hand involuntarily flinched, and with a clank, the greatsword dropped to the ground.

But after a momentary lapse, he still had no intention of giving up; he raised his hand, large as a fan, and gripped Arthur’s neck tightly, his eyes filled with bloodshot veins.

With a mouthful of blood, he let out a roar that could shake the entire Black Thorn.

“You little shit, I’ll take your life!!!”

However, at the very moment when he grasped Arthur’s throat, Arthur also moved.

With a face slightly turning blue due to the lack of oxygen, he, with one hand clamping the first mate’s right hand and the other holding the officer’s sword that had pierced through the first mate’s heart.

But this did not mean that as a master of the “Fiore Style” he had used all his weapons.

Arthur’s shoulder suddenly dropped, then he lunged forward like steel, and with a bang, the first mate’s chest visibly caved in.

Even so, the first mate still fought with the last bit of his energy to stand his ground against Arthur.

In the eyes of onlookers, it was as though a lion was wrestling with an African elephant.

The first mate leaned forward, his legs bent, driving his feet into the ground with all his might trying to withstand Arthur’s charge.

However, the deck, soaked in fresh blood and briny seawater, ultimately failed to provide enough friction to stop Arthur’s advance.

“Yaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!”

A roar from Arthur was heard, and on the smoke-filled Black Thorn deck, everyone saw Arthur pushing the first mate of the Black Thorn, who was a full size larger than him, forward like a cannonball.

This unstoppable force not only pushed the first mate but also knocked down all the Black Thorn sailors standing behind him like a torrential flood.

A thud was heard as the first mate’s back smashed against the railings of the Black Thorn.

Arthur, looking at his bulging eyes, raised his bloodied corner of his mouth and whispered with a smile in the first mate’s ear.

“Goodbye, you dumb fuck!”

He fiercely kicked the first mate in the abdomen, and with the sound of splintering wood, the first mate’s body, along with the shattered railing, fell into the sea.

The marines from the Beagle, upon witnessing this scene, burst into cheers, having been caught in a difficult fight due to the numerical disadvantage.

“Arthur Hastings, you’re the fucking man!!!”

Agares, standing on a broken mast, looked down on Arthur’s actions.

Even he couldn’t help but jot down a few notes on his parchment before nodding slightly and praising out loud, “Arthur, brilliant!”

On the Beagle, Eld was thrilled by Arthur’s performance, shaking a nearby gunner and saying, “Did you see that?

Did you fucking see that?

That’s my good brother right there!”

Colonel Fitzroy was also watching everything through a telescope.

He couldn’t help but put down the telescope and shook his head, sighing toward Eld, “To tell you the truth, Eld, I’m beginning to have some regrets.”

Eld, with a look of joy, gave Fitzroy an informal punch in the chest, “Colonel Sir, what’s there to regret?

With such splendid achievements, if I were you, I’d be too busy being happy to regret anything!”

The Colonel didn’t take it personally.

Instead, he just smiled wryly and said, “I regret not listening to you.

If I had known he was capable of this, I wouldn’t have obeyed the Navy Department’s orders to keep him off the ship.

Admiral Thomas Hardy probably never imagined that the Royal Navy might miss out on such a brave and skilled naval officer because of his whim.”

The elderly Navigating Officer, too, smiled and rubbed the stubble on his chin, “Watching this young man, I can’t help but be reminded of an old acquaintance.”

Eld, curious, asked, “Who are you talking about?”

The old Navigating Officer squinted, whistled, and then lifted his wooden arm, pointing at Arthur, and said.

“Who else could I be referring to?

The captain of the Royal Navy’s flagship, Royal Sovereign, in the Battle of Trafalgar; the fearless warrior who took the lead, the expert in dog fighting known for winning against greater odds; the indomitable soldier who stood unyielding even when surrounded by four combined French and Spanish battleships; the victor who captured the Spanish Navy’s massive first-rate battleship San Anna; one of the four men honored to carry Lord Nelson’s coffin; the best boarding commandant in the history of Great Britain and, at the same time, the most infamous tyrant at sea in the entire Royal Navy…”

Upon hearing this, Colonel Fitzroy couldn’t help but smile and look in Arthur’s direction, “I see his reflection in that young man too, so I guess you’re talking about your old boss, General Edward Rotherham.”