I Will Be The Crowned King

"I said, should we go out and see?"

In the damp-filled cabin, Carl, who was pale, couldn't help but said to Fabian who was beside him.

It has been almost an hour since Anson left.

Perhaps due to the storm and seasickness, Carl suddenly felt more and more dull in his chest, and an indescribably strong sense of unease seemed to grow wildly in his heart like weeds under the ashes.

The sound of the waves hitting the side of the boat, the crunching sound of the deck, and the sound of rain hitting the windows, which had been accustomed to a long time ago, became extremely annoying at this moment, and the air they breathed became more and more turbid and depressing.

The whole person seems to be wrapped in some kind of mucus, and it seems to be stared at by something unclean.

In contrast, the former guards officer sitting opposite him seemed very relaxed and calm, silently looking at the chart on the table, except for drinking rum one by one, he even took it out. A compass to guess where they are now.

"This won't work." Fabian said flatly, "According to Colonel Anson's instructions before he left, we..."

"I know what the guy said before he left!"

Carl was a little irritable, and his slightly trembling right hand indicated that he was trying his best to restrain the urge to smoke.

boom--

Thunder exploded outside the window, revealing the horror in his eyes full of cold sweat.

Fabien put down the wine glass in his hand, and looked at the chief of staff who was panting and soaking wet on the bed with a little surprise: "I really don't know, you care so much about the safety of the colonel?"

"I just found out that you are so loyal to this bastard?" Carl replied unceremoniously.

Fabian smiled.

"I shouldn't have mentioned it to you before, how did the colonel and I know each other?" With the corners of his mouth raised slightly, he suddenly changed the topic:

"I was still a guard at that time, and I was ordered to search the whereabouts of a suspected member of the Old God Sect..."

"I'm not interested in your old relationship."

"The first time we met, I knew that he was the target I was looking for, and I'm sure he had already realized this." Fabian continued indifferently, sipping his rum:

"But even in the end, Colonel Anson Bach... He still didn't show any clues, and he even became one of the heroes of quelling the Clovis riots. Now he is the hero of eradicating the famous old gods organization and the Thirteenth Council."

The whistling storm made the cabin seem more depressed and deadly.

"I tell you this for no other reason than to show why I have so much confidence in the Colonel."

The smiling Fabien and Carl looked at each other with sincerity in their eyes: "He is a person who will never be sentimental, and is beyond imagination; so unless there is an accident, I will resolutely obey any orders from him-- No matter how unreasonable that order may seem."

"Then I will also tell you a secret, the 'loyal' Lord Fabian." The irritable Karl gritted his teeth and said:

"The 'never emotional' **** in your mouth is pretending to be 99% cautious; the more he wants others to calm down, the more he shows that he has absolutely no control over the situation!"

"Especially when he insists on solving the trouble by himself, that's even more..."

"no problem."

A childish voice suddenly sounded from the corner, interrupting the excited Carl.

The two turned their heads at the same time and looked at the girl under the wall in astonishment.

Lisa, who stared wide-eyed, sat on the chair with her arms crossed and her feet were piled up with countless empty cans that almost buried herself: "Don't worry, Anson will be fine."

Carl and Fabian, who looked at each other in dismay, didn't notice that the girl's eyes were never on them, and they were staring at the storm outside the window from beginning to end.

"With her here, Anson will be fine."

Lisa murmured softly, her eyes slightly flushed with blood.

………………

"boom----!!!!"

In the deafening thunder, the deck of the Crown, which was washed over and over by the majestic heavy rain, has been completely soaked in the color of blood.

Along the masts and sides of the ship, hundreds of monsters resembling "worms" are continuously climbing the Crown, ravaging the crew members who have long been mad by fear and enjoying the sacrifices offered.

Facing the wailing and screaming of their companions, the remaining crew members fought against the monsters that kept coming up, and at the same time, they had to separate their hands to block all the entrances and exits on the deck, so as to avoid continuing to expand the casualties.

A similar situation was playing out on the decks of every ship in the fleet at the same time.

Screams, begging for mercy, despair, prayers… mixed in the wind and waves and layers of rain, turned into broken foam along with the raindrops and waves, and disappeared into the wind and waves.

"shooting--!!!!"

The pale-faced William stood in the wind and rain, commanding the sailors calmly to block the monsters surging on the deck; but neither he nor the experienced and seasoned sailors could hide the fear in their hearts.

No matter how desperately they opened fire, the monsters still rushed forward desperately, as if to exterminate them all.

Once upon a time, I still regarded "The Sea of ​​the Abyss" as some kind of weird talk, but it was just a trick used by old sailors to coax newcomers into being more honest... just like what I did to Anson Bach before.

But when he saw the navigator who had become the "reverse cross" corpse, and when he saw that he was swallowed by the "worm" and turned into a driven living corpse, he suddenly realized that his true terror to the turbulent sea was fundamental...

Know nothing!

"I said, are you sure you're not pointing in the wrong direction?!"

Holding the rudder tightly, the blood-covered first mate couldn't help shouting at Anson beside him. He didn't even understand why he believed the words of an army - and he was a seasick army!

Master William is still bringing people to buy them time. If he has any emergency, he...

"Trust me."

An Sen, who was already bloodless, was leaning against the railing, and his stern gaze under his three-cornered hat revealed unparalleled calmness, turning his crumbling, unsupportable body into a rifle with a bayonet nailed to the deck.

Taking advantage of the fact that the volume of the magic casting range remains the same, but the shape can be changed, Anson forcibly dragged his casting range into a vertical cone, and then shifted the position of the "power" perspective from the body to the cone. The top has become an existence like an "observation tower".

It must be admitted that while desperately restraining seasickness, while maintaining supernatural powers and incantation abilities, it is almost physically and mentally challenging one's own limits at the same time - the "existence" in the distance may find itself at any time, and once exposed , the entire fleet will be destroyed in an instant.

On land, a modern army can still rely on organization and absolute numbers, and deal with some high-level spellcasters who are still very immature (such as a certain elf princess). , a sea ruled by storms.

Once attacked by the opponent boarding the ship, the combat power formed by the organization will be restricted by space, and the individual strength will be infinitely expanded; no matter whether the opponent is any of the three types of magic, in the narrow and confined environment of the ship, it is almost an invincible existence!

"Don't lower your sails, go north at full speed, and tell the ships behind with semaphore and lights to stay behind the Crown."

Holding the railing tightly, An Sen, who gritted his teeth, tried his best to keep his voice steady: "The area of ​​this storm is actually very small, and it's not as big as it looks."

"You're sure—in case you guess wrong, it's not just the two of us, but an entire army and a fleet in support of the colony!"

Looking at the sailors being slaughtered on the deck, the chief mate who suppressed the anger in his heart stared at Anson: "Is there any evidence? Because I can't believe you now!"

"I'm sorry, no." Anson gave a wry smile.

He can't tell the other party that he is a spellcaster. This storm should also be created by a powerful spellcaster. If we don't run, we will be caught in the same pot?

The first officer fell into silence, and the expression on the corners of his mouth was obviously tangled.

"I believe you!"

Just when the two sides were in a dilemma, William Cecil, who was in the front row, suddenly turned his head and looked at Anson with panic-stricken eyes:

"I don't know why, but I don't believe a seasick Army would do this without full certainty - he'd just stay in the cabin and just wait for the storm to pass, wouldn't he?"

Even though he looked at himself, Anson knew that the words were not meant for him.

The first mate, who was holding the rudder tightly, still did not speak, but his expression was obviously a little shaken.

The next moment, this middle-aged strong man covered in blood suddenly took a deep breath and roared at the layers of rain curtains:

"The Crown—"

"Full speed ahead!"

Accompanied by the thunder that fell from the sky, the entire deck was once again flooded with slaughter notes. In the screams and roars, the Crown tore the huge waves from the front and rushed straight into the storm.

Against the oncoming wind and waves, An Sen, who was desperately clinging to the railing, could not wait to tie himself directly to the mast. Every bone from head to toe was shaking violently, and his internal organs were shaking from side to side.

Even if he was torn apart in the next second and the whole person turned into parts all over the ground, An Sen didn't think it was strange.

The fighting on the deck has not stopped. The sailors are defending against the attacks of monsters, while maintaining normal navigation; the sticky flesh and blood flew everywhere, dyeing the "reverse cross" hanging upside down on the main mast. dark red.

Soon, soon.

With the help of "ability", Anson's mind has already "seen" the boundary of the storm... It is still expanding, but it is obviously not as violent and rapid as it was at the beginning; it is obviously hindered by some kind of obstacle and has to withdraw part of the power.

Able to manipulate the storm, is the other party a spellcaster of the magic department like himself? But judging from the fact that it drives monsters, it seems that it also has the characteristics of blood magic...

"Um?!"

The shocked Anson suddenly raised his head and looked at the distant storm inconceivably; in the pitch-dark world, there was nothing but torrential rain.

there is none left……

"What did you say?!"

The first mate roared while holding the steering wheel. He was not even much less nervous than Anson. At the current speed of the ship, even if it was as hard as the Crown, it was hard to say that there would be an accident.

As long as it hits a bigger wave and is directly smashed... It's not completely impossible.

"Nothing!" An Sen gritted his teeth, but the shock in his eyes remained undiminished.

That guy's "existence" is actually getting weaker? !

For spellcasters who have surpassed the initial stage and reached the level of "blasphemy mage", they themselves belong to a transcendent species, and are not a brand-new life form that is contained in this "world". While gaining great power, it is also subject to numerous limitations.

The most direct manifestation is their own "existence".

This is a bit like a paradox - the more you want to deny the existence of something, the more you prove its objective existence, otherwise your denial will lose its meaning; and if it really does not exist, you will also There is no need to deny it.

Reflected in the caster, it is a comprehensive evaluation of its vitality and strength; ordinary spellcasters are not affected by this "world backlash", but once it reaches a certain stage, it will become stronger and stronger, and eventually reach a certain level. vertex.

Conversely, if a sufficiently powerful spellcaster deliberately weakens his "presence", there are only two possibilities - either he is avoiding something, or... he is seriously injured.

Anson leans towards the latter!

That is to say, is anyone hunting this spellcaster? But... a spellcaster powerful enough to change the weather and unleash countless monsters, Anson doesn't think ordinary judges can do it.

Even the airship ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ with the Knights of Judgment should not be able to do it; let alone if it was of that level and scale, it should have been noticed by the other side long ago.

Even if it is not in a certain kingdom, the Church of Order has a set of rules; in order to avoid unnecessary casualties and the spread of the old gods, clearing the field is a basic operation, and even if it is too late, a warning will be issued--never Say hello and start.

But if it wasn't for a certain trial site hunting spellcasters, could it be...

"boom!"

There was a sudden muffled crash on the chaotic deck - the corpse of navigator Edward, bound by the cable, suddenly slid down from the main mast; the limbs and head that had been severed, twisted in extremely strange shapes Lie flat on the ground.

But the next second, the body suddenly began to twitch violently; first the completely broken legs, then the two hands... Like a puppet pulled by an invisible rope, it trembled and climbed up from the ground. , and picked up the sailor knife that fell on the ground.

"Ugh?"

A certain crew member who was desperately pulling the rope heard the movement behind him and turned his head subconsciously to look behind him.

At this moment, the "navigator" suddenly raised the sharp blade in his hand, and his dark pupils turned scarlet!