Black Sail
Chapter 304: CCCIV. Saint Travels East

Chapter 304: CCCIV. Saint Travels East

Island exploration progressed in an orderly manner.

Two days later, on January 17, 2690 of the Holy Spirit Calendar.

The Black Sail exploration team had penetrated roughly seven hundred li deep into the island, moving at an exceedingly fast pace.

Celeste’s team of biologists made a significant discovery; the island harbored some flora and fauna from the Western Continent that were thought extinct, consisting mostly of ferns and small butterfly-like insects.

They held academic value but little economic value.

Magic Beasts indeed existed here, in the inland river valley area, home to pythons and red-furred monkeys, as well as water antelope and the like, not much different from the other islands of the East Sea, belonging to the same category of Magic Beasts.

With the capability of the Black Sail members, they naturally didn’t worry about these low-level Magic Beasts which even Silver Level adventurers wielding weapons could handle.

The experts in the team could chop them down with ease.

Don’t even hope to sell these Magic Beasts for much; they’re commonplace wares, inferior even to the special sea beasts found around Heaven Port.

But the geologist provided news that made Liszt’s eyes light up; the deeper they went, the more ash rock they found—indicative of a gold mine.

Even if the scholars of the Western Continent didn’t understand the specific formation process of gold, they had figured out through experience that gold mines often occurred around volcanoes.

And ash rock is a type of volcanic eruption sediment, suggesting that there might be a volcano on the island. However, according to the geological dating by the scholars, it hadn’t been active for over a thousand years, indicating that if it existed, it was a dormant volcano.

"We might strike it rich," the geologist said. On their way, they had found numerous ancient relics, and gold, no matter where it’s found, is a precious metal.

If there once was a civilization here that no longer exists due to natural disasters or other reasons, their main aim now was to find the palaces where their rulers once resided, or some local religious or ceremonial temples.

If they found these, there was a great chance of discovering massive amounts of gold and striking it rich instantly.

Within the dark jungle.

The deeper they ventured, the abnormally robust growth of these tropical trees became evident, their girth reaching beyond what should have been possible, ancient trees reaching skyscraper heights, blocking much of the light, while the excessive moisture loosened and softened the soil.

The group’s boots were all caked in mud after two days of exploring and looked disheveled.

At this moment, one of the explorers in front returned to the middle of the column.

Another brass statue was discovered and handed to Liszt.

Liszt toyed with the statue, recalling that during a gathering with the Undead Pirates and the Wave Suppression Pirate Group last year, Wen Kui had displayed something quite similar.

According to Fen at the time, it was quite ancient, unearthed from a floating island near the Southern Continent.

This palm-sized brass sculpture depicted a bizarre lifeform, with vine-like tentacles on its back and a silhouette close to human, but with a mouth bigger than half a face, exuding a weird and sinister aura.

"It’s like a foreign saint," Liszt said, "do you guys know what the hell this is?"

He handed it over to the Historian in the column. These guys were too professional, bound to be of great use in the future; he had to secure their loyalty.

Celeste had been looking for an opportunity to isolate Liszt during their separation in the last two days, aiming to handle things on her own deep in this territory.

But Liszt never gave her a chance, true to his pirate nature, disregarding personal space, not even stepping away from the group to relieve himself, blatantly doing so without even seeking a tree.

Celeste had nothing to say, having witnessed the object herself during her spying and was left uneasy.

After pondering for a while, the Historian made a bold conjecture.

"It seems to be ritualistic items, but I haven’t seen anything similar in any religion along the coastal areas, not even in the Cults. Similar objects were once unearthed in the floating islands of the Southern Continent as well.

There haven’t been any living people found here... and as for the shape of this copper statue, I’m not sure if I’m correct, it’s just a preliminary guess, clearly it’s not human, nor any documented Magic Beast, not ruling out something a Necromancer conjured up, but if that were the case, people would worship the Necromancer, not the Demon he controlled.

According to the findings so far, including some artifacts that even date back to 1800 years ago, I deduce that these were ’Saints’ who had once been tainted by the Miracle of Suffering, and had escaped here long ago, subsequently worshipped as deities by the native tribes. As the miracles waned due to the closure from the wider world, entering the final frenzy state, the civilization on the island was destroyed just before their deaths... That’s probably what happened, though some tribes left and escaped to places near the Southern Continent, but they too were gradually assimilated."

The Historian came to a preliminary conclusion.

Liszt didn’t understand history very well, but he found it impressive; it sounded quite professional.

He ordered a brief preparation, allowing his crew to rest a bit and snack to replenish their energy, and without caring about the dirt, he found a rock to sit on.

At this moment.

Iron Soul Island.

An ancient underground Spirit Temple, overgrown with vines, with its grooved, cracked stone floor crawling with unknown insects.

As torches illuminated the ancient stone wall sculptures and hieroglyphs.

"Yes, these are the texts from the Divine Mother Sect. At that time, they had united the continent, aiming to spread the faith worldwide. Hence, a ’Saint’ crossed the sea to the Far East Islands to evangelize. But back then, there were no established routes, and after an incident on the way, they were stranded on the island, where they were worshipped by the locals. There are no living people on the island anymore; it’s a dead island, which is a good thing since no owners mean no enemies, and all resources are ours."

A historical expert under Doringger wiped the moisture from his glasses and relayed this to Doringger.

"What about the gold? Didn’t you mention there are such indications?"

Doringger questioned a geologist.

"There are indeed signs, but surveying ore veins is a long-term task, requiring the entire island to be turned upside down, so we must place our hopes on the countless Gold Seekers."

The geologist admitted with a sheepish look, faltering a little under the pressure from the imposing man.

Doringger frowned, the island still held immense value, merely from logging wood, as the orders from furniture companies in Aran would be overflowing, with many thick and solid logs, suitable for making seamless whole-piece furniture.

Mineral resources to be determined.

There aren’t many unique Magic Beasts on the island, but given its size, volume can be sufficient, and some adventurers might also come here to stock up.

However, these relics are an issue.

They could attract plenty of archaeologists, that’s also money.

"Find all the Spirit Temples on the island, and smash all the Steles with writing."

That was Doringger’s judgment.

Regarding the Miracle of Suffering, it couldn’t be spoken of lightly—it was a straightforward omen of bad luck, and if Iron Soul Island attracted those madmen, it would definitely be no good; it would affect the business.

Additionally, it would also keep the archaeologists busy, enhancing the sense of mystery. After all, no genuine person studies archaeology—these are rich second-generation individuals; we can exploit them as much as possible.

Upon receiving the order, former General Beima Horace immediately commanded his people to destroy these Steles.

The Historian felt conflicted because concealing the truth conflicted with his professional ethics, but facing Doringger, he had little choice but to comply.

"There’s a map here, it seems to be marking... the location of the Central Temple on the island."

Another Historian spoke.

"Is that so... Set off immediately."

Doringger had many subordinates, all top professionals in their fields. The Central Temple would be the final exploration site. He personally was just there to check the premises, as many important matters awaited him, preventing a prolonged stay.