"Ah! I never imagined it would all come to nothing in the end. Nicolas was just one step away from getting the Azure Water. Such a pity, such a pity…" Pasfield stood at the bow of the ship, watching the flames and smoke rising over the battlefield, his face full of mock sorrow.
Ur glanced at him and scoffed, "Can you stop smiling when you talk?"
Pasfield: [＼(￣︶￣)/]
"Am I… smiling?" he asked, turning his head innocently.
"······"
"Your grin's practically splitting your face in two."
"Really? Never mind. Don't worry about the little details. Ur, do you think my cousin can handle these Vichy warriors?" Pasfield's expression was all smiles, bright as a blooming flower, as he eagerly asked.
Ur was speechless. Did that really need asking?
Even at a glance, the battle's situation was obvious.
Nicolas' side had the advantage in equipment, wielding cannons, but in other respects, he was severely lacking. The Vichy warriors on Gulya Glacier had no advanced weapons, but they didn't need them. Perhaps because it was their "sacred land," these warriors were naturally strong.
So far, every Vichy Ur had seen on the iceberg possessed strength beyond that of ordinary adult Vichy men.
In other words, even the weakest among them contained magical power close to that of a B-Class mage. That raw power coursing through their bodies made them formidable even without using spells. They might not have cannons, but even a simple spear in their hands could be devastating.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Spears nearly three meters long cut through the air, piercing Nicolas' ship. Even though Nicolas' vessel had several cannons, the Vichy warriors outnumbered him vastly. Before long, the massive ship looked like a spiky porcupine, riddled with holes.
Inside the cabin, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man peered through a telescope at the densely packed Vichy warriors on the iceberg, his face dark with concern.
This was Pasfield's ill-fated cousin, Nicolas.
He had initially managed to establish a tentative rapport with the Vichy, but fate had other plans; his own hired help had ruined everything. Anger surged within him.
Nicolas shot a glare at the middle-aged man beside him, taking a deep breath, preparing to unleash his frustration. But the man merely looked at him calmly, a flash of violent red light flickering in his eyes.
Nicolas: "·······"
Forget it.
Plans may be made by man, but success lies in the hands of fate. He had to accept the outcome.
After all, both of the Dragon Eaters beside him were his own hires. If they caused trouble, it was only fair that he bear the consequences.
Thud!
Just as Nicolas' epiphany struck, a giant spear suddenly pierced through the deck, hurtling straight toward him. Every hair on Nicolas' body stood on end; his body froze in terror. He could do nothing but watch the sharp tip of the spear aim for his eyes.
"Master! Watch out!"
Crack!
At the critical moment, Nicolas' loyal butler reacted first, leaping forward and smashing the spear away with a punch.
Once the immediate threat was gone, Nicolas' body relaxed, his face pale as he collapsed onto the deck. Like Pasfield, Nicolas had great exposure to the world, but without magical talent, he was little different from an ordinary person when faced with a life-or-death threat.
"Master, are you alright?" the butler hurried over, concerned.
"I'm fine!" Nicolas shook his head, dusting himself off and standing up.
"Master, we should retreat for now. The situation is unfavorable, and…" The butler paused, then gestured toward another telescope inside the cabin.
Through it, Nicolas saw Ur's ship.
His gaze hardened.
He could easily recognize the Dori XVII. His own ship was the 14th, but the type was identical.
"Hmph… so my dear younger brother managed to find this place, too? But what a loser. Lucky as he is, he still ends up with such a terrible hand." Nicolas' tone dripped with disdain.
Indeed, in his eyes, this location had been discovered first by Pasfield. Even if Nicolas had bribed Pasfield's men, he would still be behind. Yet in the end, he was the first to reach the sacred site—a testament to Pasfield's abilities.
"I still don't understand how this loser became an heir." A flicker of jealousy crossed Nicolas' eyes.
By both skill and talent, he far surpassed Pasfield. Yet somehow, luck always favored his cousin, leaving him one step behind every time.
Like now.
"We retreat!" Nicolas said reluctantly.
Though he wanted to storm the iceberg and seize the Azure Water, he knew it was unrealistic. With danger ahead and behind, he could not expect his brother to be so kind as to help him.
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Far away, seeing Nicolas' ship retreat in defeat, Pasfield laughed with glee.
"Hahaha! Nicolas just got a huge loss this time!" Pasfield laughed heartily, internally praising the Vichy warriors thirty-six times over.
It was executed perfectly. After this battle, Nicolas not only suffered severe personnel losses, but his ship was heavily damaged.
In the vast ocean, without a ship, movement is nearly impossible; survival itself could be in jeopardy.
"Hehe, now the biggest nuisance is gone. Next, it's our turn." Pasfield's smile was wider than it had been all day.
Ur, slightly speechless, were curious to see how Pasfield planned to negotiate with the Vichy warriors next.
❖≔﴾═══════ﺤ
Next Chapter: The Trade
Next Next Chapter: Set-Up
Next Next Next Chapter: Delina