Black Sail
Chapter 65: LXV. Hexagonal Warrior

Chapter 65: LXV. Hexagonal Warrior

The bidirectional, twisting spiral produced flames that scraped out high-temperature heat waves. With a sense of unity between Heaven and man, Marcus deployed his bizarre technique of stepping through the air.

Marcus aimed for the strongest here, Morison, intending to take his life within three seconds.

At this moment, Marcus’s power and speed had increased several times over from before.

Under the augmentation of the Object Manipulation Magic, wooden needles rained down on Morison like piercing raindrops. As his crimson blade spun to break them, the wood splintered, and Marcus was already lunging forward.

Row upon row of wooden stakes pierced out from beneath the Array Seal, enveloping Morison from left, right, and above, sealing him tightly as if in a coffin.

Morison didn’t have enough time to split the wood, and several more slender stakes penetrated through, the spiral’s high-temperature heat wave causing the flames to spread along them. Roots and vines followed, binding his limbs and trying to limit his movements.

Even if Morison cut through all the binds, he would still be scalded by the flames.

Meanwhile, Marcus’s Special Large Spiral Sword also thrust forward. The force field’s shift accelerated its speed, making it an unstoppable force as it surged forward, putting Morison at an absolute disadvantage.

Even Morison frowned in concern. In his previous fight with Zahak, he had spent more stamina than necessary in pursuit of a quick victory, not expecting that ultimately the Boss wouldn’t be Zahak but this priest from the port.

These remnants of Old Aran weren’t just a little strong; they were fearsome characters.

Morison’s elbow Wing Blades unfolded, cutting through all the roots and vines. Faces with flames, he instantly unleashed three strikes, tearing through the wooden lid above him and hastily retreated to avoid the impending danger.

His garment hem had already been swallowed by flames, but a reverse pull dissipated them all.

Marcus was startled. Such speed?

The Junlin Sword’s arc of black light flashed forth, and Marcus used his Magic to dodge to the side as if teleporting, avoiding the matchless strike.

He was well aware of the dangers. This terrifying Curse Artifact from seven hundred years ago, even just a sword, possessed a nature that made it instantaneously lethal upon the slightest graze, its cursed sharpness capable of slicing through anything. Nevertheless, what was the use if it could not hit its target?

There was no time left. Marcus’s stamina wasn’t an endless pit without a bottom. Whether it was casting Wood Magic, maintaining the force field, or stirring the Spiral Sword, all of it required a massive expenditure of physical energy.

He no longer insisted on bringing that person back alive. These people were not easy to deal with, and the slightest error could result in his own death here. It was essential to rely on a burst of energy to confront the encirclement, and within five seconds, he had to completely sweep the area clean!

Instantly, Marcus released his final Wood Magic.

Standing in the air, wooden stakes crazily grew around him like raising a platform, resembling a pyre, and then he used the high-temperature flames of the Spiral Sword to burn everything up.

"I’m really fucked... Everyone, jump into the water!"

Rein realized what Marcus was about to do through his connection to that bizarre force field. It’s damn freakish, the first time encountering someone capable of activating the Second Stage, truly living up to the 1200 Golden Dragons as well as the peace-time privateer certificate. As the Boatswain, he urged the pirates hiding behind the horse corpses to use their escape-speed and jump into the sea quickly, or else not even their bodies would remain intact.

Claude had been at the rear, protecting the severely injured Goria and the mysterious person. He hesitated, as it seemed there were many on this side, but he and Liszt’s group had been traveling all day, over mountains and across ridges, enduring a bumpy horse ride. Just like it rains more on a leaky house, they had also been through combat with Edmond, and their physical strength was nearly depleted. He couldn’t let his brothers unwittingly throw their lives away.

Goria and Caroso were completely unable to fight. Having traveled from the inland, crossing the massive barriers to East Shore, they had been drained of every last bit of their strength.

The others, too, were physically and mentally exhausted from Zahak’s interception battle and the massive battle at the secret port.

Yet their opponent was unscathed, an officer from the violent machinery of Old Aran.

But at that moment, Claude made a fierce decision. These werewolves and Dark Elves could jump into the sea, and the pirates were good swimmers, but the several severely injured behind him could not jump, as they would not be recoverable. His earlier comment about not caring for rank was only a pleasantry. Even as a pirate, one aimed to make a name for oneself.

He didn’t completely trust Liszt’s proposal either. He had always pursued a title, waiting for the Emperor’s Heavenly Army to charge through Beima, accepting Heaven Port, so that he, too, could become of use again.

"Form up, all troops!"

Claude yelled out, determined to protect the mysterious person behind them; otherwise, all their efforts would be in vain.

"Too late!"

Marcus also went mad, the Special Large Spiral Sword exerting its strongest force, the spiraling flames tearing through the air, reaching a height of five to six meters.

In an instant, all the surrounding wood was ignited, Object Manipulation Magic was applied to the extreme, and the force field exploded.

Boom!

The spiral flames spread out like a long dragon’s carpet roll, soaring meters high and racing in every direction. Wherever they passed, the sword winds carved out trenches, touching meant instant death, touching meant ignition.

Claude arranged his troops into formation to protect the mystic, while he himself stood at the forefront, hoisting a shield high.

Fortunately, Rein’s mind was exceedingly agile, and he had already given the command. All the pirates abandoned their horses for cover and, along with Swan, Shadi, and Wolman, they leaped into the sea. Despite looking as wretched as drowned rats, they saved their lives.

Morison’s whip blade danced wildly, but he could only fend for himself.

Liszt protected himself with the Junlin Sword, diverting the flames of the fire dragon.

Boom!

The flames completely spread out. The fire that had already heated the cave now exacerbated the heat to a searing degree; sparks filled the sky, and the trenches pulled the corpses on the shore into hot char.

Even Morison couldn’t fully resolve it; some sparks splattered onto his crocodile skin clothing, burning several holes, but the already tattered clothes could hardly be worse for a few more holes.

Claude’s side was the most tragic, with shields burning hot and the soldiers’ hands all scorched. Claude, standing in the very front, had his face covered in soot, in a terribly sorry state.

Marcus stayed composed, and though he hadn’t killed a single person, it was only the beginning. He intended to completely sweep the area within five seconds, with just one last move left.

As a youth, he had been obsessed with arcane arts but lacked the talent to become a Court Mage. In his youth, he joined the Witch Hunting Secret Department and fell into the abyss, regretting it for a lifetime.

Now, as he approached his twilight years and his past sins remained unwashed, fate seemed to dictate that he once again had to personally take lives. Truly, if it was Heaven’s will.

"Brace yourself, this is my... life’s learning."

With Marcus’s age,

the words "life’s learning" were fitting.

He spread out one hand, and the Special Large Sword separated from his palm, slowly levitating in the air as both halves spun in reverse spirals.

And on the shore, all the bodies turned to char were slowly dragged into the eye of the vortex by the wind.

These still scorching embers entangled themselves around the Special Large Spiral Sword, billowing thick smoke that enclosed Marcus, raising the temperature around him to its utmost.

With just one swing, everything would be decimated, leaving not mere flames that dissipate in a flash, but undying embers that, upon contact, would consume flesh and gnaw bone.

The Old Aran Witch Hunting Secret Department, Sergeant, life’s learning.

The raging black and grey danced in the wind.

"Fuck, you’ve even got a combo move?"

The injured Rein emerged from the water, more than just active—he was extremely active.

"Fucked," said Morison succinctly. Without any knowledge of Magic Techniques, he could only protect himself. Only Fen had the capacity to withstand it. He was not some refined scholar. Though he always wore a sour face, he was extremely cold-blooded and ruthless. Saying that he was the most explosive person on the ship was no exaggeration - a former member of the Magic Energy Industrial Committee, unfathomable in depth.

Fen had not made a move until now, amassing all his strength for this moment.

He knew that Marcus, in order to break free from the encirclement, would surely choose to burst forth.

Fen was the same; he waited for the moment of the explosion because this time, he could only win, not lose.

The Netherworld Stele was too terrifying; Fen wasn’t certain he could use it as a medium without dying. After some deliberation, he decided to rely solely on himself.

Fen stood on the railings of the ship’s side, his dark hair whipping in the strong wind, and he tore off his dark purple robe.

Bare-chested, his body, honed by years at sea, bore the true physique of a pirate, his skin slightly rough with clearly defined lean muscles. All over his upper body, the opaque black Death Spirit charms writhed and surged as if alive, the eerie and fearsome patterns of death spirits and mysterious celestial tattoos were certainly not tattoos.

Fen removed his monocle and crushed the lens with two fingers.

Senluo Death Technique·First Tier.

Release.