Chapter 250: Killing Intent in the Fog
As the sea monster died, the raging wind and rain finally subsided. The gloomy sky hung low, the heavy clouds as if within reach. The violent raindrops had turned into a misty drizzle, and the sea surface undulated restlessly, but without the maddening fury that tore everything apart.
The ship of the Divine Cult of Eternal Blessing had disappeared from sight. Captain Remington could only command the battered Adventurer and, relying on an intuition for the sea born from vast experience, continue to move forward, arduously yet resolutely.
However, shortly after escaping danger, an even greater crisis descended silently.
Ahead, a greyish, impenetrable fog rose from the sea surface like a living thing and quickly spread, engulfing the entire sea area in moments. Visibility was compressed to an extremely dangerous distance, with only the monotonous sound of waves hitting the ship and the occasional muffled sound of a collision with a reef from the depths of the fog remaining.
The fog came too quickly and at too opportune a moment, not like a naturally formed mist.
Remington stood by the helm, his entire being like a statue fused with the ship. Only his hawk-like eyes glinted sharply in the dense fog. He suppressed his breathing, his senses heightened to the extreme, his ears capturing every subtle difference in the echoes of the waves hitting the rocks, his body feeling the slightest tremor transmitted through the hull by the currents.
Under his command, the Adventurer was like a blind person walking down a staircase covered in blades. Every slight turn was perilous. The dull grinding sound of the hull scraping against submerged reefs was clearly audible, narrowly avoiding those hidden, deadly fangs.
“Hold on tight, don’t move,” the Captain’s cold command was clear in the deathly still fog.
As everyone tensed their nerves, praying to pass safely through this deathly fog, an unforeseen change occurred.
A blurry, elongated black shadow tore through the depths of the fog without warning, charging towards the Adventurer’s hull at astonishing speed, carrying a suffocating sense of pressure.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Everyone’s pupils contracted. It was a ship much smaller than the Adventurer, but narrower and faster. It had greyish sails, and on the sailcloth was printed a scarlet cross emblem, exceptionally striking even in the dense fog.
There was no doubt, it was a ship of the Divine Cult of Eternal Blessing.
With a deafening roar, the impact of the two ships shattered the silence. The hulls of both ships emitted pathetic groans of unbearable strain, like dying behemoths. Splintered wood and severed ropes shot out in all directions, whistling sharply through the fog.
The Adventurer’s hull was violently knocked sideways. Everyone on deck instantly lost their balance, cries of surprise and groans of pain mixing with the dull thud of falling bodies. Seawater poured in madly through the breach created by the collision, making terrifying gushing sounds.
“Enemy attack, prepare for battle!” Captain Remington was the first to react, his voice like thunder, exploding in the chaos.
At the moment of impact, Li Wen grabbed a rope on the mast, his body swinging lightly as the ship tilted. His gaze penetrated the fog, locking onto the ship with the scarlet cross. Vague figures emerged on the deck, brandishing weapons, their fanatical cries distorted by the fog.
The whistling sound of iron hooks tearing through the fog could be heard, and several barbed grappling hooks were thrown from the Cult’s ship, latching firmly onto the Adventurer’s gunwale. Amidst the harsh sound of wood and iron colliding, the two ships were forcibly pulled closer, their hulls groaning with a sound that grated on the teeth.
“For Eternal Life! For the Blessed!”
Fanatical shouts penetrated the fog. Dozens of believers in greyish robes climbed along the ropes, their scarlet crosses embroidered on their chests glowing blood-red in the mist. Leading the charge was a red-haired woman. Dark red patterns pulsed beneath her skin, her fingernails, at some point, had become covered in scarlet flesh, from which protruded sharp bone blades. Behind her followed a shadowy figure, with darkness clinging to each step like a living thing.
Remington spat, drawing his saber: “Brothers, take your positions! Hold the port side!”
The Adventurer’s sailors advanced at the command, and the two sides immediately engaged in fierce combat.
Fu Qingyan stumbled back due to the collision, only stopping when her back hit the mast. She looked at the swarming enemies, lightly biting her lower lip. The elf girl Sugar, who had been by her side, was trying to aim with her shortbow, but her trembling hands caused the arrow to lodge crookedly on the deck.
“Don’t panic,” Fu Qingyan suddenly spoke, her voice unexpectedly steady. “Remember the feeling when you practiced archery. The key to shooting is focus, not how accurately you aim.”
Hearing this, Sugar took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heartbeat. She drew the bowstring again.
With a “whoosh,” an arrow broke through the air, precisely piercing the throat of a gray-robed believer who was about to pounce. Blood spurted out like a spring, and the scarlet cross emblem was stained even more glaringly red.
If this situation had happened in reality, this young high school girl would have likely turned pale and vomited profusely. But under the notion that “this is just a game,” she didn’t see anything wrong with it, and even felt a hint of excitement.
Fu Qingyan said nothing, only nodding slightly to indicate good work.
The battle on the deck had entered a stalemate. Even they, the players, seemed to be involuntarily drawn into it. She recalled “Analysis of Basic Close Combat” she had read in the Leicester library. Her knowledge path abilities were activated. Those originally obscure texts now became incredibly clear.
Several gray-robed believers noticed them and charged forward, holding up tridents and shouting fanatical slogans.
Fu Qingyan’s expression remained unchanged. She drew the short knife she carried and darted towards the enemy. The moment the knife swung out, the descriptions in her mind, which were originally just cold text, came alive. It wasn’t imitation, but an instant understanding of the principles behind the words—the enemy’s center of gravity, the angle of the trident thrust, the optimal path for her muscles to exert force.
Her awkward movements, as if guided by invisible threads, became fluid and precise.
*Ching!*
The short knife did not clash head-on with the trident but slid along the shaft like a viper, precisely cutting into the armpit of the arm holding the trident. The gray-robed believer let out a piteous howl, dropping the trident. He fell forward due to the intense pain and loss of balance.
Immediately, Fu Qingyan shifted her footwork and, using the same technique, disabled several other believers, rendering them unable to resist.
On the other side of the chaotic battlefield, Li Wen looked towards the enemy ship with the scarlet cross sail. On that ship’s deck stood a figure whose attire was clearly different from everyone else’s. The glowing crimson cross ring in his hand was exceptionally conspicuous.
That guy must be the boss of the Divine Cult of Eternal Blessing.
Realizing this, Li Wen leaped into the air and attacked that person. Moria, with the same thought, stepped forward and leaped over the ongoing battle at the gunwale, landing on the enemy’s deck.
