Chapter 284: Chapter 250: The Three Musketeers
Boom!
A loud explosion, and sparks shot out from "Black and White Keys."
Violet once again activated the magical boots, firing at the charging Herman while pulling Byron and flashing backward in retreat.
I understand now!
Byron, realizing his mistake like many others, was slightly startled but quickly figured out the key to the ritual.
The "Pirate’s Treasure Chest" ritual required one to obtain an item that best represented the glory of a Great Pirate’s life to complete the promotion. Based on previously known information, everyone believed that looting the Treasure Fleet best represented a Great Pirate’s life of glory. They naturally determined that the promised item in the contract was Azkek’s Cursed Coin. Even Byron, before he had personally seen Flint, was no exception to this common belief.
But when Byron learned that this Great Pirate had another identity, the Lamplighter of the Lighthouse Union, this assumption no longer stood. In the collective consciousness of humanity, the glory of a Lamplighter and their contributions to the world were clearly beyond comparison to those of a mere pirate. Therefore, the treasure that best represented his life’s glory should be the Faustian Pact, used to protect this world...
Suddenly looking up above.
There, with "mealtime" drawing nearer, a huge portal-like crack appeared more and more frequently. It was about to completely fix itself above the Blood Lake. Threads of blood defied gravity, floating towards that crack. At the boundary between the two worlds, the light from a lighthouse was visibly dimming, as if it might extinguish at any moment. The gold and red Divine Light from the Faustian Pact itself, however, penetrated the gap between the two worlds, casting light on both sides.
"This contract belongs to me!" Velazquez declared. "With it, I shall become the world’s most powerful and wealthiest Pawnbroker. Even becoming the first Pawnbroker to rise to the Fifth Order Kingly Title wouldn’t be a mere dream."
Velazquez’s palm suddenly produced a playing card, which fell into the shadow at his feet. The shadow swiftly expanded. It transformed into a skeletal warhorse tangled with old ropes and caltrops, capable of spewing sparks from its nostrils—the mount of the Bone Gnawing God. Velazquez mounted the horse, squeezed its flanks, and instantly shot into the sky like an invisible and intangible wisp of smoke.
Seeing Velazquez’s eager display, it was clear that his contract’s conditions were not something that would require him to take on the responsibilities of a Lamplighter. No wonder Transcendents often fell from grace so readily; it truly is in line with Human Nature.
Seeing the situation turn grim, Byron immediately shouted, "Velazquez, look who this is!"
The vacant-eyed Undead Servant, the Versatile Enchantress Beatrice, then materialized behind him. Even having been dead for quite a while, she still seemed as alluring and enchanting as a beautiful viper.
Velazquez, startled by the sight of the woman with whom he had spent countless delightful nights, immediately halted.
And the Third Order Wizard Beatrice, having had all her knowledge taken by the Sailing Logbook, burned out in an instant. This elevated Byron to the Third Order once more.
The Wild Hunt Knight leaped out of the azure flames on his Phantom Warhorse. Byron pulled Violet up behind him, encircling her with his arms. Seizing the moment his competitors were stunned, he chased after them.
Between immediate death and a delayed execution, he much preferred a stay.
"Sea Hunter, so you are... Mad Hunt?! Aaargh! Give us back our Golden Code!"
Velazquez’s response was no slower than Blue Hair’s. He immediately connected the dots. The Barbary Pirates had been duped once, but the People of Castilia had been tricked twice by Mad Hunt. New grievances and old hatred surged simultaneously. With a wave of his hand, a flurry of shadow arrows, comparable to powerful crossbows, lunged forth.
Byron swung his lance, blocking all the shadow arrows. Violet, holding twin pistols, fired continuously, but the shots were blocked by a shadow screen around the opponent.
The only one still on the ground, Herman, bellowed and recited a Sword Saint verse from the poem, "With precise techniques, mastering the foe, striking deceitfully close, with flashing and flowing movements!"
He jumped from the ground like a shooting star, his figure flickering rapidly, arriving ahead of the rest and landing on Velazquez’s horse, seated behind the Governor. With both hands holding a sword, he launched a counter-slash at Byron.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!...
Between the clashes of the blades, a thunderous noise like hammering iron resounded through the third layer of the sky.
If he could speak, he would certainly have bellowed, "Heretic Mad Hunt, meet your end!"
As a member of the hunting squad, his mission on this trip to Banta’an was, after all, to pursue Mad Hunt. Of the countless strong contenders at sea, Captain Byron managed to provoke half of them. For Byron, this time it was truly succeed or die with honor. If he couldn’t take down the Governor of Havana and Herman, the Quasi-Sword Saint from The Holy Silver Empire, he’d have to abandon his newly acquired territory and escape with his tail between his legs.
The two riders fought as they charged, both plunging into the crack and heading straight for Flint’s lighthouse.
At the same time, Byron, using the dim lighthouse light, glimpsed in astonishment the true face of Greed Worm Mammon in the distant Primordial Ocean. It was a giant cicada, flesh-colored all over. Its six insect legs were all human hands, and it had a face that looked like a golden mask.
It constantly released an excess of knowledge, resulting in spatial distortions in the nearby sea and a profusion of illusions. Palace gardens, fine wine and gourmet food, jewels and beauties... it all seemed like an incredibly enticing Mirage City. But he believed that if he were to actually reach out and grab it, regardless of the outcome, he would definitely catch hold of something real and genuine.
This is truly a greedy Wishing Machine!
This moment of eye contact allowed Byron to completely fill in the last piece of the puzzle concerning the Mystery of Wealth Increase on Silvergold Island. Andrew had said that whenever cicadas sang in the outside world, Silvergold Island would appear; when cicadas sang on the island, an irresistible crisis would descend.
Summer belonged to the cicadas. There was a kind of cicada that would emerge from the soil only in prime-numbered years, known as the "Periodical Cicada." To avoid competing for food, they evolved prime-numbered cycles to reduce the frequency of encounters. For instance, the 13-year cicadas and the 17-year cicadas would only appear at the same time every 221 years (13 times 17). This meant their larvae hid underground for more than a decade, all for one summer of singing.
The cicada-like Greed Worm Mammon also possessed similar traits. Its Affiliated included different prime-numbered groups that appeared only in prime-numbered years to look for food. Riding on Silvergold Island, which crossed between two realms, it entered the real world to feed, underwent a transformation, and then returned to the Sea of Origin Matter. And it offered up countless greedy souls to Greed Worm Mammon. Incidentally, it turned treasure hunters who landed on the island into silver and gold, to attract more treasure hunters the next time it emerged. The cycle repeated, growing stronger and stronger.
In Mysticism, cicadas usually symbolize "rebirth from shedding, the immortal soul."
The instant Byron caught sight of that Indescribable entity, he felt this Corpse, entrapped in eternal sleep, would one day reawaken.
At the same time, the Decryption Rate of [Secret: Mystery of Wealth Increase on Silvergold Island, Historical Influence 29] reached 100%.
The feedback in Spirituality not only made up for Byron’s exhaustion from the consecutive battles but also settled down. It was now waiting for him to break through the Third Order limit before it would surge again.
"Captain sir, you have gained a new entry."
The Sailing Logbook turned its pages automatically. Alongside entries like Historical Reviser; Heartfelt Trouble; Outlaw Madman; You Are Not a Murderer; Why Have You Carved Your Name on My Pipe?, Byron now had a sixth entry. Moreover, this time, unprecedentedly, there were three options to choose from, any one of which could be selected.
[Entry: You Have Some Skills]:
As long as the enemy is not more than one major realm above you, you can withstand the first two moves, no matter whom you fight. Even the most formidable enemy would need three moves to kill you.
[Entry: Resurrect My Love]:
If you die, and your teammate says over your Corpse, "He moved! Damn, he moved! He’s come back to life!" you will be able to stand up and continue living as an Undead Creature.
[Entry: The Three Musketeers]:
As everyone knows, the Three Musketeers actually include four people: Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and the protagonist D’Artagnan. Just as there are five in the Four Heavenly Kings, it’s common knowledge.
Ability: Adds an extra slot to all your current transcendent abilities that have a capped amount. For instance, if the current cap for [Wild Hunt Servants] under the title [Mad Hunt] is three, it can be increased to four. Or take "The King’s Right Hand." It consists of one king, one queen, two War Chariots, two Bishops (or Prime Ministers), two Knights, and eight Guardians, totaling sixteen positions. You may add one more to any position—say, one Dragon two... cough, like that.
"What on earth are these rewards? [You Have Some Skills]... I’m doomed to die anyway, so what difference does one or two moves make? Living on as an Undead Creature, wouldn’t I just become a second Uncle Andrew? The ancestors of the Lancaster Family are weeping! As for the last one... Ugh, I’ll decide on that later based on the situation."
Trails of burning hoofprints were left in the air as two warhorses charged side by side and rushed into the top floor of the lighthouse.
The lightning-fast [Secret Sword Technique: Fingertip Spear] unleashed a screeching barrage of spear shadows. It clashed desperately with the dual-handed sword bolstered by the Sword Saint’s manuscript. Byron felt an unprecedented pressure, his arms going numb and his bones groaning. If his opponent had been better at mounted combat, he feared he would have been defeated quickly.
The sharp sword qi shattered everything inside the lighthouse. That copy of the Faustian Pact, carried by air currents, floated and darted about, now on the left, now on the right.
As the two were equally matched, neither willing to yield, and the three-minute deadline was passing by second by second.
Byron remembered that the conditions for completing the ritual merely required obtaining it, not necessarily its entirety, and silently apologized to Flint.
"Break!"
In an instant, the black and white Faustian Contract was viciously torn in two by a burst of sword qi. The two riders charged forth, each grabbing a part. The portion in Byron’s hands was the normal white-with-gold-text, only a complete third of the pact. Velazquez held the remaining two-thirds, which was all black with red text.
And at the moment Byron’s fingertips touched the Faustian Pact.
Whoosh—!
A strong wind suddenly howled through this maze buried deep underground. Countless Storm Elves seemed to come to life around Byron, cheering and frolicking, moving in and out of his body with his breath. Everyone within the maze instantly felt a powerful emotion from the wind around them.
It was... the scent of freedom!