Black Sail
Chapter 331: CCCXXXI. So-called East Sea

Chapter 331: CCCXXXI. So-called East Sea

Beima Duchy, northern part, Mapleleaf Town.

This is considered a town with relatively good public order. Even though the country has been restless lately, the local lord has been extremely responsible for his subjects. Through his mediation, the area remained safe.

Half a year ago, Antilicia received an extremely valuable letter. The sender was anonymous and had sent eight Golden Dragons, expressing that they were exchanged for a man’s head on her behalf.

She naturally knew who that man was. Eight Golden Dragons — that was the price for her husband’s life.

In Beima Duchy.

Drug addiction had become a plague. Facing households without a male presence, many eyed them. Vulnerable women, invited for meals, were subjected to hallucinogens.

Antilicia had become addicted. Within half a year, the eight Golden Dragons were but a drop in the bucket. She had no choice but to fall to a state inhuman and ghostlike, selling herself to sustain her addiction. Given her looks and attractive figure, several wealthy military officers from the lord’s castle frequented her.

At the edge of the town, an inconspicuous cluster of wooden huts, a secret passage hidden in a small alley.

The stairs of the underground opium den were drifting with dust under the slanting rays of the setting sun. High heels step by step descended the dusty stairs, before the heavy wooden door reinforced with iron bars.

Antilicia hesitated but then knocked on the door.

After a while,

a man opened the observation slit in the door, recognized a regular customer, and opened the door.

"Sorry, we’re completely out lately, not a single stash left, none in my bag. Come back another day."

The man’s complexion was sallow, his eyes sunken, also an addict.

Antilicia hesitated for a moment, then asked, "What about the others?"

"They’re gone, left. I fear they’re no longer in the country. I’m the only one here."

Because of long-term alcohol abuse, his hands were also shaking. "It’s all that damn Liszt’s fault. The East Sea is all in chaos — might be a long while before we get any more stock."

Doringger’s influence was far-reaching and profound. He supplied half of the Western Continent’s eastern drug market.

The addicts around here, also desperados of the underworld, heard that Lord Dor was in trouble and rushed to his aid, not minding the long distance.

Doringger’s supply chain was the most dominant, with fast shipment, strong backing, and preference for bulk orders. There wasn’t a better wholesaler than this.

"Is that so... I..."

Before Antilicia could finish, the addict had already closed the door and the observation slit.

She looked down in silence, turned, and left, pondering whether to mortgage her deed and seek out another dealer in the city — one who charged more, was crueler, and would lay hands on her.

On her way home, she crossed an arched bridge over a river.

It seemed her senses were indeed clouded — the deed had long been mortgaged.

The sky mourned like an altar, the setting sun silent in congealing pools of blood.

It looked like a drug episode had begun.

Like a chef with a voracious appetite, cooking his own heart.

She climbed onto the stone fence of the arch bridge, then jumped.

Antilicia’s death had no audience.

Drowning in the undercurrent, carried by the rapid river, perhaps she would, merge with the East Sea.

Her spirit, tormented by perpetual weariness, felt this sea region was like a damp cell, an anguish spanning more than a decade across the East Sea, darker than night itself.

A funeral procession without drum beats or music.

Bleeding, weeping, the agonizing pain, the deep-seated hatred pervaded all things — movement, desire, ideals.

Pirate ships, skull and crossbones flags, gold and silver treasures, murder and plunder.

Lawless zones, the desperados.

Here in this East Sea, at the edge of the world, this nearly peeling yet clinging flesh and blood.

Once torn, the flesh became indistinguishable, yet it was like a persistent ulcer at the mouth’s edge: it wouldn’t worsen unless licked, but one couldn’t help but lick.

Just like in the end, everyone dies.

The sea itself seemed to be dyed red.

On a certain fishing island, at the periphery of the Association’s estate, it had already turned into a veritable hell on earth.

It was already the end of February.

"Where on earth did these things come from?"

Wen Kui’s Willow Leaf Blade was so severely nicked from use that it couldn’t be used anymore, and his back was cut by a sneak attack, blood flowing steadily.

"The situation at Heaven Port must have gone terribly wrong. Who knows where Doringger found these people? They’ve got not only those with military training but also...wildcards from the East Shore."

Wave Suppression’s First Officer was a man with a scholarly appearance, but as the short-handled axe in his hand sliced through someone’s carotid artery, splashes of blood stained his glasses.

Clearly, Wen Kui was not cultured enough to come up with such an elegant name as Wave Suppression; it was his First Officer who named it.

"Weren’t they supposed to come at the end of April? Damn it, it’s not even March and they’re already here."

Wen Kui was indeed taken for a ride. He quickly gave the order for everyone to retreat to the Fishing Association’s estate, unable to withstand the overwhelming numbers.

Doringger had many military garrison islands in the East Sea, far beyond the level of pirate gangs; he was the bona fide East Sea King, who could cover the sky with one hand and cause tsunamis with a gesture.

With sea battle experts from the military islands aiding the landing, along with a horde of thugs from who knows where, and Doringger’s allies from the underworld’s various factions, they swarmed in for the kill.

More than a thousand men, even a common minor noble couldn’t muster such a force.

Not just on land, the sea was also filled with ships firing their cannons in a deafening barrage.

And the island’s fishermen, having never seen such a spectacle, all shut their doors, only able to pray to the Holy Spirit.

The Fishing Association’s building was located on a small hillside where a river of blood flowed from the multitude of gory corpses down towards the foot of the hill.

In the era of cold weapons, a third of the deaths occurred without a collapse in morale, which could already be referred to as an iron army.

Facing the Heavenly Soldiers who had burst forth from who knows where, Wen Kui and a variety of Mixed Brand Pirate Groups had already lost half their forces and were forced to urgently retreat back inside the estate.

"Liszt has plenty of money! And reinforcements! We just have to hold the defense."

Wen Kui rallied the morale.

And Qi Li knew that Wen Kui was an idiot, so he sent a group to support him, which would arrive shortly.

Compared to Wen Kui’s position, Qi Li’s situation was much better.

He had already taken control of the entire fishing island, mastered the operating systems, knew every detail of the island’s topography, and was fully familiar with the surrounding sea conditions. He had on his ship men who had served as Military Officers in warfare, building defenses, and were now maneuvering all the pirate ships funded by Liszt with agility at sea.

Scouting ships, support ships, main defense forces, main attack forces; everything was arranged in perfect order, essentially a dimensionally superior strike, repelling the suddenly swarming enemy outside the island.

Not to mention, these enemies also included many who knew nothing of naval battles and had purely come to join the fray.

On another fishing island, inside the temporary government building’s office.

"Has there been such frequent unrest recently because the big battle at Heaven Port is about to take place?"

A Beastman giant, towering over three meters tall, asked Qi Li.

Because there were signs of this recently, a scouting ship had found a passenger ship from the Cangshan Tobacco Company passing by here. Those people had rented the ship, with no hope of engaging in naval combat, saying they were on their way to give Liszt a hand, and of course, were let through.

"Pretty much. By mid-March, the outcome will likely be decided. All we need to do is guard these places and wait for it to end. By then, Liszt will send a big force from Heaven Port to crush the Remnant Party. Once this is achieved, even if the battle goes against us, we can still hold it, at least for the short term."

Qi Li spoke thus.

"If Liszt is defeated..."

The Beastman giant couldn’t help but ask.

"Then we’ll go... try our luck at the Narrow Sea."

Qi Li could only respond in this way, prioritizing the overall interest of the Undying.