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"What is happening?" At the moment, all the lookouts in the Stronghold on Sea widened their eyes. Klein turned back in surprise, his expression confused.
In the projection on the ceiling, the light representing the Mountain of Nomadism suddenly went out. The light from the pool of aether and the outline of the alchemy array disappeared as if the ship had turned into a stone statue and descended into silence.
The engine…had been switched off?
Everyone was prepared to deal with the Mountain of Nomadism fighting desperately like a cornered beast, but none of them had expected that after being sealed, the pool of aether of the Mountain of Nomadism surprisingly cut off aether supply in an instant. The whole ship fell into silence and didn't even show the most basic resistance.
To make a somewhat obscene metaphor, it was as if a masked pervert had finally cornered a girl and was ready to pounce on her while cackling, "Scream all you like, no one will come to your rescue even if you scream until your throat is hoarse."
But in the end, not only did the girl not scream, but she didn't even react in the slightest bit. Instead, she entered a state similar to that of a salted fish [1], and began to count the stains on the ceiling with her eyes wide.
Although getting one's hands on the enemy was exciting, but the other party was so uncooperative that one couldn't even feel the slightest sense of accomplishment at all.
At the moment, the Mountain of Nomadism had completely and utterly given up on any attempt to resist.
All the devices had even stopped working.
If not for the seal of the movement of Messiah, the ship would probably have fallen into the sea at the moment.
Was it that their captain siphoned the money for the purchase of the aether engine and bought one of bad quality to cover up?
Or was it that…they surrendered?
Rommel was stunned at first, then his gaze became colder and colder. "Something's wrong. All of you, don't hesitate, attack immediately. They are going to activate the Wyrmrest enchantment!" He clenched the hot Scepter of Messiah and abruptly increased the pressure.
Wyrmrest enchantment, so what? Such a technique, with so many limitations, will not suffice to interfere with the movement of a saint at all! If Ye Qingxuan has such a naive idea in mind, he is totally seeking his own destruction.
But just as he said so, a rumble burst forth from the seal constructed by Messiah. It was not the furious roar of the Mountain of Nomadism, but the loud noise that sounded when the seal collapsed.
The seal of abstinence constructed by the movement of Messiah unexpected cracked open, revealing gaps on it, under the power contained within the Mountain of Nomadism.
It seemed as if taunts were sounding in Rommel's ear, making his expression turn grotesque.
Hah, Wyrmrest enchantment?
It was…
The Ultimate!
For centuries, as the hub created by the Originator, the container from which catastrophes were born from, the Ultimate nurtured the power of the gods, also isolating it from everything of the mortal realm and the outside world. No other elements were needed, its own existence alone constituted a domain that was almost an inaccessible region. For a lengthy period of time, the domain shrouded the Ultimate, and it evolved into the alarming Wyrmrest enchantment.
But the Wyrmrest enchantment was only a manifestation, after all. After losing the support of the Ultimate, it was nothing but a rootless tree, a sourceless pool of water. Although its effect was terrifying, it was unsustainable. As long as the other party crushed it with an amount of power exceeding that of its source, it would collapse on its own.
But at the moment, the Ultimate had long fallen into Ye Qingxuan's hands, integrated into his scepter and transformed into the Net of Aether. After mastering the essence, Ye Qingxuan's Wyrmrest enchantment was no longer the same as it was in the past.
At the moment, the scepter unfolded, and it was as if the Ultimate had once again emerged from the depths of the realm of aether and fallen towards the physical world. The vast forbidden domain slowly unfolded in Ye Qingxuan's hands. The music theory of the school of abstinence that was just as pure strengthened the Mountain of Nomadism.
So, a desolating silence arrived.
It was the projection of the Ultimate!
No more trace of music theory could be found, nor were there any signs of manipulation. Like a purely natural phenomenon, unmovable by human will, it opened up a crack bit by bit in the field of Messiah.
At the moment, the Mountain of Nomadism that had switched off all its engines had no more power to continue floating in the air. The huge body made purely of steel and behemoth began to sink slowly after tearing the shackles set upon it by Rommel apart. It was as if an iron piece that had been burnt red was thrown into butter. Under the pull of gravity, it descended with its own weight, penetrating the layers of the domain in a flash.
Soon, flares burst forth from the many aether cannons on board the Stronghold on Sea. In the blink of an eye, hundreds of heavy mass shells flew out of the cannons that had been completely converted, shooting out like torrential rain. The heavy armor of the warship trembled violently, countless rivets flying out. The armor shattered, and the warship seemed to have become a sandcastle falling apart in the rain.
But the projection of the Ultimate not only to blocked out the seal of Messiah, it even smoothed out the attacks of the various musicians that followed closely completely.
In the storm of cannon fire, the Mountain of Nomadism shook violently, but showed no presage of collapsing from the start till the end.
In everyone's furious gaze and Ye Qingxuan's loud laughter, the projection of the Ultimate completely tore the seal of Messiah apart and fell from midair into the sea. The huge warship stirred up a hurricane as it smashed into the sea, but did not stir up any waves, not even ripples.
Like sugar melting in the water, no trace of it could be found any longer.
Even the wound that had initially cracked open under the cannon fire began to recover quickly. It was originally a vile spawn of the sea, a giant monster of the deep sea that ruled the seven seas for centuries. As compared to the air and the surface waters, the deep sea was its actual domain!
A bright light shone out of the left eye of god, firmly illuminating the black warship hidden in the sea waters, but at the very moment when the projection of the Ultimate above it dissipated, Ye Qingxuan opened his eyes and tapped downwards with the Staff of Fate.
Bang! The final lock of music theory was opened.
"I still have a gift for you all!" he said.
So, torrential rain suddenly spilled from the sky, instantly engulfing the entire Stronghold on Sea. But above them was a clear and boundless sky, and since when were there rain clouds shrouding them?
Only then did everyone realize that as the movement of the sea abyss collapsed, the illusion that turned into specks of frost did not dissipate, but instead they further split up into tens of thousands of specks and evolved into the incorporeal storm.
Like an invisible river, it penetrated the layers of obstacles and covered the entire domain of the stronghold. While everyone was caught off guard, the cues of the school of heart hiding within were like weeds after a rain, madly sprouting and taking root, growing rapidly.
Ye Qingxuan laughed loudly. Today, I'll show you all the Parinirmita-vaśavartin of House Ye!
So, screams sounded from the stronghold, one after another. Taking advantage of the rare opportunity, the Mountain of Nomadism sneaked into the sea rapidly blended into the darkness of the deep sea and disappeared.
In the bridge, dead silence ensued. Everyone looked at each other speechlessly, their gazes gloomy, their faces purple with rage.
Soon, the captain spoke hoarsely, "Report the casualties."
"For the time being, there are no casualties." Amid the screams, the voice of the musician who was giving the report was odd. "Most of the lower tier crew members who were not wearing mind-protecting amulets had been implanted with cues of the school of heart. We are trying to get rid of the cues, but every time we erased the cues, they will reappear soon."
Rommel's look was dark. Of course, he knew very well about the tricks Ye Qingxuan was best at, the domain House Ye was best at.
The school of heart!
The heart musicians of House Ye need not even use musical movements, they could influence others' thinking and mind by virtue of words and actions alone.
It would be more alarming if the ordinary musician could remove the cues that Ye Qingxuan had personally implanted.
They could only consider themselves lucky that the Stronghold on Sea was too large, and it was difficult for Ye Qingxuan to hide cues that were too strong into the fragments of the movement of the sea abyss and affect so many people at the same time. But cues were cues, if left unattended to, they would cause big trouble sooner or later.
"What's the content of the cues?" Rommel asked, "What type of cues did Ye Qingxuan implant?"
The cues of the school of heart could be subdivided into various categories, and it was necessary to identify the type early on so that they could come up with solutions. Furthermore, while he was furious, he was also very curious about the sort of cues that Ye Qingxuan intended to use to obtain the most significant effect, given that the scale and intensity were limited.
The reporting musician's expression turned odd, and after a moment of silence, he replied, "It's 'fear'." Wiping the cold sweat on his forehead, he reported, "After a rough estimation, more than 4,000 seafarers of ours are suffering from aquaphobia. Now, more than half of our men will vomit and tremble when they see the sea..."
For a moment, the entire bridge descended into silence.
"Aqua…phobia?" Rommel whispered the word repeatedly. In his fury, he only felt that it was extraordinarily ridiculous and mocking.
The Asgardians, known as the children of the northern wind, fearless for centuries, daring to cross the Black Zones in the sea even with just a canoe…suffering from aquaphobia, like rabid patients?
A cue alone made the Stronghold on Sea lost more than 4,000 seafarers in a short period of time, halting its operations to the extent that it was almost useless.
It was simply like a f*cking joke!
After a long silence, Rommel's expression was twisted, and he produced a hoarse roar from his throat, "Ye Qingxuan!"
…
"Ah, it's a big loss, a big loss," mumbled Ye Qingxuan. In the deep sea, in the bridge of the Mountain of Nomadism, it was humid and hot. After the air circulation system was damaged, what blew out of the vents turned out to be hot air.
Ye Qingxuan sweated profusely, fanning himself with a file, yet he still felt breathless. At the moment, he was waiting for his subordinates to calculate the losses, his expression full of resignation. "That's not the way it's supposed to go. Shouldn't it be like this, we fire once and retreat after fronting? How is it that we were almost caught alive? Had there been no Plan B, our team would have been wiped out by the Asgardians today. How unlucky!"
Although he was saying that they had lost out big time, when he thought of the cues he showered the Asgardians with as a result of coming up with the idea at the end, Ye Qingxuan could not help but want to laugh loudly.
"Your Royal Highness, the loss has been calculated." The captain, Egor, who was standing in for Shi Dong as Ye Qingxuan's aide-de-camp, looked at Ye Qingxuan, who was laughing loudly as if there was no one else around. He walked forward resignedly, and reported in a low tone, "The external armor is seriously damaged and in urgent need to be replaced. Cracks have appeared on the keel of the Mountain of Nomadism, and some of its tissues have suffered serious damage. In addition, a lot of the equipment has collapsed, and two of our spare engines have also exploded, seriously injured six people. However, there are no casualties."
The whole battle took less than a minute. Just being caught by the Stronghold on Sea had resulted in the Mountain of Nomadism almost being completely destroyed for several times. At the moment, it could basically be considered as half-useless.
"Although we have prepared a set of external armor in advance, seeing that it is a consumable, and the damaged equipment can be replaced, we have no way of completing the repairs at sea, so I am afraid that we will have to return to the harbor."
As he thought of this, Egor felt extremely upset. When the warship was seriously damaged, it must return to the harbor. Even though the Mountain of Nomadism had an amazing ability to recover, the situation was still equivalent to it withdrawing from battle in the short term.
But the Asgardians didn't have to worry about such an aspect at all. The Stronghold on Sea itself was a huge mobile port, and sufficed for the ships of their fleet to take turns docking. It even had a large ship repairing factory on it, and the ships needed not to return to Asgard for repairs at all. As long as they had sufficient materials, they could even build their own ships. It was not affected by any of the drawbacks of away games at all.
"Worry not." Ye Qingxuan gave a wave of his hand calmly. "Even without us, the Royal Fleet will still be the Royal Fleet. Moreover, in the short term, the Stronghold on Sea more or less useless."
As everyone knew, to damage was easy, to construct difficult. The most disgusting thing about the school of heart was that destroying was hundreds of times easier than trying to repair it. Moreover, the cues of various schools were completely different. Some cues were targeted at stress response, some directly acted on the subconscious mind, some modified memories, and the music theory of each was completely different.
The Parinirmita-vaśavartin was known for being inconspicuous, like the wind and rain of spring that nourished everything quietly. Once the seeds were sprinkled, different things would grow out of different types of land.
To resolve the cues implanted by Ye Qingxuan, they must be tackled one by one. Furthermore, with the slightest bit of carelessness in the process, a little source would be left, and the chance of relapsing was high…
For a certain period of time, Asgard's heart musicians probably had to work overtime so much that they would vomit blood.
4,000 people! Even if they were to tackle four hundred a day, it would take ten days!
It was enough for the Mountain of Nomadism to sail back to Avalon with ease, change its armor, change the equipment, then condition the hull, have it waxed and polished, carry out hull maintenance, and return slowly!
After what Ye Qingxuan did, in a short period of time, while the maritime conflict would continue, it was certainly impossible for a war involving the entirety of both the armies to break out.
All it took was just taking a risk, a set of external armor, and scrapping some equipment to buy them at least ten days. Anglo simply benefited a lot.
As for Asgard... At least Ye Qingxuan was sent packing. They won a victory, right?
It was simply a win-win situation!
Thinking of it, Ye Qingxuan couldn't help but be amazed with himself.
I really am a peerless general, I'm just too good at this!
…
Thousands of miles away from the northern waters, at the southernmost part of Anglo's territory, below the Blanc Mountains, outside the huge stronghold, the Asgardians had already arrived in a rumble.
A few kilometers away, relying on the huge enchantment supported by hundreds of instruments of harmonious melody, they began to camp and built war fortifications right in the face of the Anglo army. Furthermore, two teams of the most elite Frost Giants rode on the chariots, flaunting their prowess below the fortress and shooting arrows containing messages which requested the Anglo side to accept their challenges over the wall. Even with the city walls blocking them out, one could hear the Asgardians making noise in the restaurant far away.
Christine held her plate, expressionless. She sat in her seat and chewed the beef that had been burnt. After finally resolving the defense matters she was in charge of, the late lunch finally started.
Soon, the secretary of the military department quickly walked forward, holding an urgent report, clearly looking happy. He saluted Christine, then reported in a low tone, "Madam, good news from the Royal Fleet.
"In the northern waters, His Royal Highness the Prince fought against three scepter musicians of Asgard, the Mountain of Nomadism went against the Stronghold on Sea and retreated safely, even causing the Stronghold on Sea to temporarily lose its combat capability."
Christine nodded. "Noted."
The secretary of the military department left, and soon a knight entered, his steps quick. His face was purple with anger, and he walked over to Christine, lowering his voice. "Captain, the Asgardians outside has come here again, they want to duel before the two armies."
"Mhmm." The knife and fork in Christine's hands kept on moving, and she simply nodded. "Let me finish the meal first."
The knight took three steps back, stood in the corner, and waited silently.
In the silence, one couldn't even hear the knife and fork colliding. Christine chewed on her lunch in small mouthfuls, finished it slowly, wiped the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief, and returned the plate to the chef. Then, she looked at her squire. "Let's go."
"Yes, madam!" The knight straightened up, followed her, and strode out.
…
15 minutes later, in the hustle and bustle of the Asgardians, the gates of the Blanc Fortress slowly opened. However, it was not a thousand men on horses that rode out of it, but only one person, all alone. But as the person walked out, not did onlookers crowd the walls of Blanc Fortress, many people ran out from the military base of Asgard as well. Some even found points of higher altitudes in the military base, binoculars in hand, gazing at the figure.
Before the stronghold, the armored knight faced the team of Asgardian Frost Giant Knights seeking trouble, and a cold voice came from beneath the steel helmet. "You all requested a duel between knights?"
Blocked by the steel, the sound was blurred. The Frost Giants Knights, who were eager to fight exchanged glances, and an extraordinarily burly figure walked out from among them. With the gaze of everyone on both sides, the Frost Giant made a rude gesture to the Knight of the Round Table in front of him, stabbed the giant flame-bladed sword in his hand into the ground, then took off his helmet.
In the sound of steel scraping against each other, the knight actually took off his armor and walked out from behind the steel.
After undergoing modifications, most knights would experience physical growth for a second time, especially those who underwent the Frost Giant modifications of Asgard, which would make one's height directly surge to more than two meters. But even among the Frost Giant Knights known for their height, the knight's physique was also considered burly, and his height was even close to three meters.
He was like a wall.
The Frost Giant, who looked indifferent and could keep no hair, had a bald head that was tattooed with an iconic totem. His skin was iron-gray, like frost. He reached out, pulled a heavy sword from a hidden space in his armor, and pointed it at the face of the Knight of the Round Table.
"In the name of the Gray Sun Clan, I, representing the holy Asgard, challenge you to a duel before the two armies, in the most traditional manner." The voice of the Frost Giant reverberated on the battlefield, stirring up thunder-like rumbles. "I shall prove the truth with this sword!"
At the moment, in the army base of Asgard, countless Frost Giants spectating the fight cheered and roared loudly, "Truth be with me! Victory be with me! Glory be with me!"
The waves of noise swept through.
On the walls of the stronghold, all the people spectating the fight were shaken by the sudden roars, their expressions dark.
"Then, I accept your challenge to a duel." From beneath the armor of the Knight of the Round Table came a hoarse voice, with neither sorrow nor joy, not in the slightest bit influenced. Then, the heavy armor of Galahad slowly unfolded, and the thin female knight walked out from it.
For a moment, the Frost Giant opposite was stunned.
He couldn't believe his eyes.
In the silence, he suddenly burst into laughter. It was as if he had seen a great joke.
He laughed and pointed at Christine, turning back and looking at his comrades. "Look what they've sent, a woman? Is it that Anglo doesn't even have a man who knows how to wield a sword?"
Besides coming from the Frost Giants nearby, loud laughter of ridicule and mockery also sounded from afar.
"Surely you all didn't find a woman from the kitchen at the last minute to serve as a stopgap?" The Frost Giant looked down at Christine and laughed. "Stop embarrassing yourself, Anglo. If you really have the slightest semblance of a sense of shame, you should behave yourself and send someone who can really wield a sword as your champion, don't taint the sacred duel!"
In the laughter, Christine's expression remained the same. She simply reached out and pulled out a long sword from the armor behind her.
"I devote myself to the great empress." She took a step forward and slowly propped the body of the sword up with her arm, the blade forward. Her expression was solemn, like she was saying a prayer. "May God bless the kingdom, and may my empress grant me protection."
May my empress grant me protection!
The reverse scale of the dragon had been touched.
The expression of the Frost Giant changed.
Gazing at the blade of the sword, his expression changed from one of contempt to one of coldness.
"You know what it means to pull out a sword at a knight, right?" The Frost Giant clenched his own sword and arranged himself into an attacking stance, a murderous intention reddening his eyes. "Although you are a wench from God knows where, don't expect me to be merciful."
At the moment, a forlorn whistle sounded from the air.
The ground shook.
In the blink of an eye, he crossed the long distance between them in one go. The iron gleam cut the air apart, stinging everyone's eyes.
The loud bang of the steel collision burst forth abruptly.
The blades collided, and in the harsh sound, sparks flew out.
Feeling that the enormous force not inferior to his own on the blade, the Frost Giant was momentarily stunned, the look in his eyes one of shock. With the blades between them, he heard Christine's breath. As if a non-human beast had open its eyes and expanded its lungs, she greedily took in every bit of air around her. Then, a high amount of heat coursed through her blood, causing her heart to beat like a drum and power to fill her limbs, It made the murderous intent materialize and integrated it into the violent power.
"Heh!!!" The roar was like thunder, and all the noise was drowned out.
Boom! The Frost Giant abruptly retreated, pushed away by the force on the blade. Then, the girl who had seemingly turned into a non-human strode forward for three steps, each footstep imprinted in the stone.
She lifted the sword and struck.
The sound of the gas exploding erupted from the blade, and the roar was deafening, as if it intended to tear the sea apart, and the blade in Christine's hand struck.
Boom! Lowering his body, the Frost Giant parried the sword that struck towards him. His face was flushed, his expression furious.
Christine lifted the sword, then struck again!
Boom! Unlike her usual exquisite and complex sword art, at the moment, she was like a dragon who had spread its two wings. She only had a thin body, but a strong, monster-like force erupted from it.
A pure murderous intent was blended into the blade.
Strike! A forbidding gap appeared on the blade of the Frost Giant, then, the sword fell apart. As the countless fragments splattered, Christine moved forward and reached out, her five fingers clenched into a fist, smashing toward the heart of the Frost Giant.
A muffled sound rang out. Separated by the thick ribs and muscles, the fist was like a sharp hammer, wanting to completely crush his heart into powder, and he couldn't dodge.
Then, Christine's blade struck.
In the silence, a scream abruptly burst forth. An arm holding a broken sword flew into the air and landed on the ground, blood spewing out.
The blade was turned, and the heavy hilt struck downwards.
Bones shattered.
A forbidding gap cracked open on the skull of the Frost Giant that was harder than iron and stone. His vision went dark, and he involuntarily knelt on the ground.
In the end, the cold blade pressed against his neck.
In the short span of a few blinks of the eye, the winner and loser had been determined.
In immense pain, the Frost Giant raised his head with difficulty, widened his eyes, and looked at the enemy in front of him, but could not see any expression.
Christine looked down at him, her eyes as cold as iron. "Someone once said to me the words you did just now, but unfortunately, you can't even reach one percent of the person's standard." She slowly withdrew her sword. Not looking the armored knights who pulled out their swords. Instead, she turned and slowly raised the sword in her hand, displaying her badge to the Asgardians and to everyone in the Blanc Stronghold.
"Remember my name, go back and tell everyone." Christine's voice rang out in everyone's ear, and she declared to them, "Your enemy, is Galahad!"
In the cold and solemn voice, on the walls of the stronghold, the Knights of the Round Table unsheathed their swords, and numerous gleams of metal glinted.
The victory proves that the truth is with me!
[1] In Chinese pop culture slang, 'salted fish' refers to someone who has no goals in life and has grown resigned to fate, and is often used sarcastically.