Black Sail
Chapter 43: XLIII. The Petition of God

Chapter 43: XLIII. The Petition of God

Two days later.

Early morning.

When the first rays of morning light piercing through the sky were spreading over the entire East Shore.

At last.

The Eternal Sect found a tall tree with lush branches and a stout trunk, surrounded by a pile of broken stones devoid of any vegetation, as if all the moisture and nutrients in the soil had been completely absorbed by it.

An exceedingly perfect "petition land."

Among the special inspection team, besides Zahak who was in overall charge, there was also a deputy officer overseeing the supervision work, the priest of the Eternal Sect, Marcus.

"Begin the petition."

Marcus spoke with devout sincerity.

His jaw seemed as if it had been detached before, fitted with crude, somewhat rusty steel, his teeth below all black metal, speaking with a markedly hoarse tone, his hair dry, his face covered in sharp cuts unsympathetic, his eyes totally muddled and blind, relying on some sort of magic power to survey his surroundings.

Marcus wore simple chain armor, his left arm bearing an armband of Holy Silver, engraved with the emblem of the Eternal and Time Dragon, identical to every gold coin circulating on the Western Continent.

What Zahak did not know, was that Marcus had already received information about the wanted persons from the Church Leader. The Pope’s influence could now rival that of the Emperor.

The existence of the "Catastrophe Witch" was a desecration to the "Eternal Lord." To cleanse the impurity, a petition was necessary, letting the Dragon Lord witness the devotion of the faithful, granting them strength.

Marcus had brought eighty-one death row inmates from the dungeon of the Admiral’s castle in Londen City, as there is also a concept of extreme numbers on this end.

Even the unruly pirates and bandits were terrified into losing their souls under such an array.

More than twenty heavily armored "priests" in black iron turned a lush tree into a pointy trap by sharpening all its sturdy branches.

It was a cumbersome giant that seemed to have some intellectual disabilities; standing over five meters tall, his facial nerves around his lips tangled, twisting his lips and speaking unclearly. Accompanied by terrifying screams, the giant impaled a prisoner on a tree branch, the branch entering through the stomach and emerging from the back.

The giant, mindlessly, continued to push further inside, the branches grew sturdier, and the death row inmate’s screams grew more intense until they turned into faint whimpers; eventually, he was impaled completely, his head hitting the trunk.

The remaining eighty people couldn’t sit still any longer, taking a horrific lesson from the precedent.

"Fuck you, give us a quick death," a pirate wildly angered. "Aran’s religion dares to be so overbearing on our own soil! The prison’s criminals are taken as demanded, and that worthless Admiral dares not bubble up, too suffocating," "If I had been born twenty years earlier, I’d follow the old king and kill all you dogs."

"Shush, silence."

Marcus did not get angry. What was needed now was tranquility.

"What the fuck Eternal Dragon..."

The pirate didn’t finish his words.

He had already been dragged out by a priest, then a chained mace full of iron spikes was pulled out, and more than ten priests surrounded him.

A dozen maces began greeting his body like a violent storm. Each swing was broad, with full force behind it.

Almost half a minute later.

What remained could not be called a carcass. There were no intact bones, the largest bone fragment no bigger than a fingernail. If one must describe it, it looked like meat soup where too much salt had been added, unable to dissolve.

The petition continued.

In less than a few minutes, the petition umbrella was also completed. The arrangement on the tree focused on symmetrical composition; blood dripped like localized showers.

"Their bodies have returned to the distant dust, and their souls have stepped into the peaceful eternity, receiving rest."

Marcus said no more.

The Eternal Sect is not some cult, no need for much ceremony, the Dragon Lord is generous and kind, sincerity in the heart is enough, and extra words are futile.

Last evening, after listening to Zahak’s words, Yisu Girl could not sleep, moving from one task to another, determined to find Caroso and Goria. Whether she could keep her official hat was a minor issue; what mattered was her life.

Early in the morning before dawn, Yisu Girl prepared to inquire about Deputy Marcus’s progress on locating any secret docking points along the coast.

Aran is different from other countries; it does not have lords with autonomous power. Even the greatest Duke is merely a provincial office director; the Imperial City centralizes power, and the court’s influence is infinitely amplified. A leak-proof, seamless bureaucracy leaves no room for clandestine tax evasion harbors. Because people are so competitive, everyone watches everyone else; a single mistake can bring one to court. You might win again and again but eventually lose everything. I remain steady, end up as a top official.

While in other countries, you might encounter eight tax-evading smuggling ports just by stepping out to buy cigarettes.

As soon as Yisu Girl arrived, she saw Marcus handling official matters, even feeling sorry for that pirate. Why provoke him?

Seeing Marcus’s great success.

Yisu Girl no longer held back and stepped forward to inquire about the progress, "Priest, how goes the search for the secret harbors along the coast?"

"The Dragon Lord has not yet provided direction."

Marcus calmly responded, his eyes blinded, relying on the unseen magic power swirling around him to perceive everything.

Yisu Girl was shocked; so damn it, you all haven’t even started? This will ruin everything; if we cannot catch anyone, I might have to turn to banditry. Wait, I’ve read in "Acania Travelogue" about the Pirate Bill, women are not allowed on ships, and some pirates only bring women aboard as tools for venting.

Isn’t that like, actually being desired by a whole ship of people... might not be so bad? But might be unbearable in the long run, better to give it up.

Although Marcus said this,

Yisu Girl dared not contradict him. The Eternal Sect’s influence in Aran is huge, and these priests wield tremendous power. It would be no big deal to slaughter her on the spot.

Thinking about the fate of that pirate, better not.

"Very well, I shall take my leave now."

Yisu Girl had nothing to say, prepared to go back to find Zahak, to let Zahak handle this priest, can’t cure you bunch of priests?

Half an hour later.

Yisu Girl successfully brought people over, Zahak had attended to every little detail these past few days but dropped the ball on this particular aspect. Before coming, he had already ordered the Constitutional Soldiers to take over the tasks that Marcus was supposed to do, searching for secret ports, while he went to confront Marcus.

Zahak’s gaze was icy cold, Marcus gazing towards the distant cliffs by the sea.

All blind and still enjoying the scenery? Yisu Girl grumbled internally, watch how my elder brother deals with you.

"Marcus," Zahak called him by name, adding, "This matter has far-reaching implications, how dare you be so negligent?"

Zahak glanced at the "petition umbrella," thinking how absurd it was to be dealing with such things at this time. Pope now ruled the country single-handedly, and these minions were all the more outrageous.

"Do you believe in religion?"

Marcus counter-asked.

"Aran allows freedom of religion, I do not believe in the so-called Eternal Lord, I only pledge loyalty to the Emperor."

Zahak spoke bluntly.

Yisu Girl almost cheered, worthy of being the elder brother, so handsome.

"The Constitutional Soldier Commander has granted me the utmost authority for this operation, you were supposed to perform your supervisory duty, instead, you tempted legality, I can kill you right now."

Zahak drew his sword, a red glow burst forth, and the blade turned completely crimson. As it was drawn, the birds in the nearby woods fled in terror, filling the air with a frenzied clamor.

Over twenty priests were not intimidated by Zahak; they wore Black Iron Dragon helmets with only two holes for the eyes, looking extremely fierce, gradually closing in.

"Shush, silence," Marcus perceived something, "The Dragon Lord has given direction."

Zahak turned to see, under the big tree, a pool of blood slowly flowed as if alive, resembling a crawling bloody hand, moving several meters before dissipating into blood mud.