Black Sail
Chapter 262: CCLXII. Ghost Eye Mad Blade

Chapter 262: CCLXII. Ghost Eye Mad Blade

Ben encountered a Hall-level adventurer who was clearly the cream of the crop, not just the tea.

In the darkness, Ben held incredible advantages; it felt more like magic than skill.

But the conditions for promotion to Hall-level were harsh; mere overwhelming strength was not enough. One also needed a deed celebrated across the land, leaving many stuck at the Heroic Level, unable to progress further.

Yet, Heroic Level adventurers were already rare. Most adventurers were the kind that bragged to their buddies about knife scars and earned their meals in jail.

A vastly different breed from the so-called elder brothers.

Ghost Eye Mad Blade, Saleret, had made his appearance.

True to his nickname, he wore an iron mask as terrifying as a demon’s face affixed onto his own, revealing only his eyes which gleamed blood-red in the darkness.

His figure was bizarrely lean and tall, about two meters in height, with hair as stiff as steel needles slicked back behind him. Despite the freezing new year weather, he was topless, wearing only riding pants and military boots pilfered from some soldier.

His arms and chest bore the tattooed markings of ferocious magic beasts, and his whole being was ghost-like, wielding an ordinary-looking Iron Sword with a seam in the middle.

Due to the overlarge outdoor pool, many ice floes had formed in the cold winter weather, giving Ben an advantage. The more complex the terrain, the greater his space to maneuver, especially at night.

Both of them were dancing on thin ice, stirring violent ripples in the waters of the pool.

Saleret’s swordsmanship was brutally efficient; wielding the steel as though he was an embodiment of hacking and slashing, a human cutting machine sparking electricity in the darkness.

The ripples around the ice floes had barely dissipated before Saleret shattered Ben to pieces with one sword strike after another.

Indeed, Ben was shattered.

But every time Saleret "killed" Ben, only a few cards fluttered down in the darkness.

Ben’s patterned glow-in-the-dark playing cards formed one clone after another in the dark, following the arcs pulled by steel wires.

With every "kill" by Saleret, only more playing cards drifted down.

And the incredibly sharp and damaging steel wires had already been laid out by Ben in an intricate web.

He had him!

"Aren’t you supposed to be using a blade? Why switch to a sword?" Ben toyed with his mindset. Tssk, to think this is Hall-level? The adventurer’s guild is a joke. Saleret became famous on the continent for his deeds exterminating an Evil Mage who slaughtered towns in the southern part of Lostra. But now it seems he’s nothing but an illustrious fraud.

Crack!

Ben yanked the steel wires, sending dozens of them from all directions to bind him. If they had sliced through, Saleret would have ended up as cuts of meat on the chopping board.

Saleret swung his sword towards the frozen pool, creating arcing waves on either side and behind him that enveloped his figure. He unleashed a flurry of sword strikes in an instant, producing concentric layers of waves radiating out from him.

Then something terrifying happened.

His eyes seemed to possess some magic power, suddenly turning a deep crimson. The temperature around him plummeted, and the arc-shaped waves he created froze into ice.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

One after another, the ice walls shattered into fragments under the steel wires. But by the third wall, the wires could only embed halfway into the ice, unable to move an inch further.

The sudden drop in temperature burst forth, and the surrounding water completely froze over.

Ben, panting, emitted puffs of warm breath, his hands somewhat frozen stiff, and he immediately burst out of the pool.

Saleret did not pursue his victory. It seemed that such a tactic could not be sustained indefinitely.

Ben held playing cards in both hands, flicking them one by one into the air. In a single breath, hundreds of cards exploded toward Saleret like peacock feathers.

The card trajectories were confusing, with S-shapes, straight lines, and looping refractions engulfing Saleret in a fierce card storm.

Saleret had had enough.

Actually,

Saleret had never intended to kill; he just wanted to drive off the flies. He knew there was a banquet tonight, but it had nothing to do with him. His deal with Doringger was just to guard this main building, nothing more.

He split the sword blade into two distinctively edged long knives.

A flash of the blood-red Ghost Eye.

The movements were so fast they were indiscernible, only countless flashes of blade light blooming.

In the blink of an eye, the knives merged back into a sword, and with a click, his right hand flicked, deftly sheathing it back into the scabbard.

In the instant it was sheathed,

The wind burst forth with unstoppable force, as though Hell itself were wailing.

Every card was precisely sliced in the exact center, as if measured with a ruler, the powerless confetti drifting away, disappearing amidst the snow and wind.

"Leave now, and I’ll act as if nothing happened; stay, and I’ll get serious," he said.

Saleret’s voice sounded as if it had been damaged, extremely hoarse—you might say he was half a mute.

Ben was somewhat taken aback, thinking, what the hell, those eyes were a bit eerie, otherwise, he couldn’t have been detected. If it had been someone else, with the one-stop service of poisoning, assassination, disguise, and voice-changing, even an Immortal would have a hard time defending.

Heaven Port was just too bizarre, he kept hitting walls himself.

Hall-level adventurers were merely Doringger’s watchdogs. Ben had no idea how things were going with Liszt; they’d all be dead for all he cared, which would mean he could also take off, not return to the Thieves’ Guild, and go mix in the big cities instead—this damned place was too dull to stay in.

"What a coincidence, it seems you and Doringger aren’t that close. I’m in a similar situation. Let’s chat to kill time, brother. It’s a waste of your skills; help me chop someone, and I’ll take you along to make big money later. When you’re out in this world, you have to use your head. Being a bodyguard is the least cost-effective line of work," Ben said, then slapped his head, cursing inwardly. He’d been here too long and had started talking about ’brothers’ without even thinking.

"So that’s how it is..."

Saleret understood and slowly walked towards Ben. It would be bad if Doringger came back and found out. Perhaps it would be better to just kill him with one strike.

Ben was a man with strong learning ability. He had gone through the Thieves’ Guild training program from entry-level to ’burying level,’ mingling his way up to becoming a Shadow Messenger, even more esteemed than a Staff Chief of a region. The only positions above him were the Netherworld Envoy and Diaz; the functional bureaucrats of the guild weren’t counted—they were just damn employees.

Having stayed with Liszt for so long, he also knew well the importance of finding the user’s pain points, using richly textured combination punches to explode and create a deeply infiltrating content ecosystem.

"You can see I’m from the Thieves’ Guild. I can only say that I know a thing or two about the news of the world, half of what’s in Heaven, and everything on earth. Brother, you’re guarding this door, out of the loop. You won’t kill me either; aren’t you just being used by Doringger? It’s all a game here. If there’s anything you want to know, just ask, brother. Can’t let him fool you now, can we?"

Ben had always been a swindler, sharp as tack.

Saleret: "..."

"Has the president of the Adventurer’s Guild been replaced? Has anyone... vindicated me?"

He posed such a question.

Ben was almost spitting blood. Big brother, your information is way too out-of-date, not only has the president been changed, but not only has there been no vindication, you’re a rat crossing the street that everyone wants to hit.

Tyson wouldn’t dare kill a family of guild elders, and here you are Saleret, daring to kill them; you’re even more badass than Tyson.

Ben briefed Saleret on the current situation in the guild. The new president was more ambitious than the old one, no longer content with just being a platform, wanting to play hardball. Recently, he had slightly relaxed the entry requirements for Honor Level, allowing more people to sign contracts with the guild and become enforcers.

He also introduced some of the key people in charge of various regions.

"Damn, so you’ve been wronged. If you have any messages, I can take them out for you. Don’t worry, I come and go without a trace; no one can detect me," Ben said, hoping to foster good relations with Saleret, to join him in chopping up that Magician named Fen. Hehe, suffering has arrived.