Black Sail
Chapter 186: CLXXXVI. Outlaw

Chapter 186: CLXXXVI. Outlaw

Water Carriage, Section 8.

The red-haired noble commanded the Heroic Level adventurer to deal with the horse bandit holding the Big Anvil with a face cloth.

However, how could the adventurer dare to make a move?

The move Liszt had just made was too horrifying; the weapon, roughly weighing over 200 kilograms, seemed as light as a feather in his hands, as if it had no weight at all.

Judging by the force with which the soup had sprayed from the Security Guard captain, only an instantaneous destruction could have created such a scene—it was as if someone had fiercely stomped on a tomato on the ground, instantly splattering it completely, turning it into a shower of blood.

The other two nobles agreed that the red-haired noble was quite right.

All the psychological confrontations.

They were no different from a military fortress; once breached, the enemy forces would desperately squeeze in, until the breach grew larger and larger, eventually leaving them as fish on a chopping board.

They must not submit.

The other nobles who had brought Guests as guards also had their bodyguards step forward, including adventurers and knights who were directly loyal to their families.

Weapons of all kinds were present, including a Demon Swordsman.

Arcane power surged, sketching out a grey sharpness on the blade, making it appear even more cutting edge, able to slice through anything.

Suddenly, the tables were turned.

Over a dozen people surged forward, all of them skilled.

"Shit..."

Liszt suddenly sensed something ominous; these bastards actually dared to resist?

Behind him followed a few pirates, handpicked from the ship for their fighting skills, but they were mere minions against these ruthless foes.

Liszt had to clear the way himself, to stir up morale first.

"Don’t think about killing. Take the nobles as hostages, they wouldn’t dare to move!"

Liszt made a quick decision, brandishing the Big Anvil, and charged at the seemingly weakest.

The knight knew he couldn’t match this attack; such an assault could only be dodged, not parried.

But he had never expected that Liszt didn’t need any preparatory movements, there was no initial swing for an instant attack.

The 200-kilogram Big Anvil struck instantly.

Bang!

A dull explosion rang out, like a balloon filled with red ink bursting, spraying ink all over the carriage.

Liszt was now acting like Hell itself.

He was not lacking in skills.

Surviving in the most ferocious lawless areas had honed his craftsmanship, judgment, and reflexes, all culminating in this moment.

Behind him, a knight and an adventurer saw an opening, their blades moved like phantoms, coming and going without a trace, exuding a chilling killing intent.

If Liszt were even a half-step slower, he would have died on the spot.

Summoning the Junlin Sword would take up too much space.

Compared to the touch-and-die Curse Sword, Liszt had found a better weapon; this Big Anvil, equally lethal upon contact.

He only needed the finesse brought by the Junlin Sword, already trained to move with his will without summoning.

The knight and adventurer combined to deliver over ten strikes, their weapons splitting into phantom images, attacking the chest, abdomen, throat, and vulnerable joints, each strike potentially lethal.

Liszt countered with a sweep of his hand.

From the Netherworld came a black mist of sword shadows, blocking and repelling more than a dozen slashes and thrusts.

This unbelievable blocking power was too fierce, like an unstoppable force of history, an unchangeable past, an ultimate strength.

Even as the two tried to use clever movements, twisting their wrists, elbows, and shoulders to change stance and unload force, their hands burst with blood, and their ulnas eerily pierced through their skin.

Just a moment of hesitation.

The killing intent had arrived.

Boom!

The anvil was swung, and with just one hammer blow, two people were smashed into a spray of blood, their organs splattered on the ground.

The nobles inside the carriage were completely paralyzed by shock, unable to move even an inch; this horse bandit was like a killing god, exuding an unstoppable aura.

And that huge anvil was, astoundingly, just a one-handed weapon, held solely in his right hand.

Liszt drew out a chain mace with his left hand, hooked it around a noble’s left arm from over a meter away, and quickly yanked him over. He was wary of the others inside the carriage joining together to righteously attack him. No matter how fierce, he couldn’t withstand many.

"Make a move, and I kill you. I’ll start with the one in my hand, then butcher the rest of you, lords. My brothers and I need to make a living. Hand over all the money you have to help us out."

Liszt, splattered with some blood, said calmly.

It was apparent that the horse bandit had started taking hostages.

His men, taking advantage of the chaos, had also grabbed a few noblewomen. These glamorous women were completely pale, their eye makeup smeared from crying, sobbing in terror.

"You’re too despicable."

A knight didn’t dare make a move, worried that Liszt would actually kill these officials from the Royal Court.

"Am I?"

Liszt believed he needed to open these Noble Masters’ eyes. He dared to chop down officials, and it wasn’t just talk. He wasn’t afraid to kill members of the Royal Court.

He decided to start with the red-haired noble.

In other compartments, things seemed to be going smoothly; a few more pirates had come in.

"Chop up that redhead for me."

Liszt’s expression was cold-blooded.

This Heroic Level Guest of the red-haired noble, seeing that the situation was dire and that guarding the noble was just a financial transaction, stepped back several steps.

"Dammit... I give you eighty Golden Dragons every month!" The red-haired noble suddenly realized he couldn’t show anger, "From now on, I’ll give you two hundred per month. Do it!"

But the Heroic Level adventurer ignored him, realizing he had encountered a ruthless character. This wasn’t just a man in this carriage; he had many accomplices. This was a long-planned grand robbery.

The red-haired noble felt somewhat desperate.

The pirates had already surrounded them and chopped up the defenseless man swiftly.

Crack, crack, crack!

Three pirates drew their lightweight daggers, stabbing the red-haired noble wildly, targeting his chest and abdomen. Within five seconds, his body was punctured with twenty or thirty holes.

Like a colander, blood poured out. The red-haired noble’s lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but his lungs had been punctured, and he couldn’t utter a sound. He stumbled backward a few steps, then collapsed on the floor, dead.

His head struck a cup, precisely the one he and Mu Ran had toasted with, a high-footed glass. Glass shards pierced his eye, but he was motionless, already dead.

Screams from women began again in the carriage; previously, only fighters had died, but this time a real noble had been killed.

The palpable threat to life was closing in, making it impossible to maintain a composed and graceful demeanor.

Liszt saw that the situation in this carriage was under control and looked towards the door at the front, waiting for Claude to return with news. Once the train’s engine was under control, they could start gathering riches.

Underneath his masked face, a greedy smile appeared, driven more by lust for gold and silver, resembling more a twitch of facial muscles.

At the same time.

Carriage number 11.

Morison had miscalculated; among the noble’s guests in this carriage, there were some experts, one almost matching Zahak’s momentum.

Indeed, he killed the first wave of accompanying guards within five seconds.

But among the second wave, there was a formidable opponent.

"Die!"

His weapon was a Big Ring Blade, whistling as he wielded it. The blade moved like a storm, utterly chaotic.

The Iron Blade Storm deflected all of Morison’s Flying Knives and with incredibly swift Big Ring Slash, even the legs of iron tables in the dining car showed cracks from the force.

In just a moment, Morison’s whip blade was deflected.

Inside, all the nobles and attendants were fleeing for their lives, trying to climb out the windows. But pirates blocking the outside didn’t give them a chance, firing warning shots, instructing them to stay all together on the train to be slowly harvested—each noble was a fat sheep.

Morison increased his intensity, aiming to prevail within three seconds.