I will be crowned king

The western part of the Turbulent Sea, the waters around Adran.

In the pitch-black night, heavy rain fell like pillars, and strong winds whipped up huge waves; a light cruiser tossed and undulated in the rain, like a toy, being tossed around in one wave after another.

From a distance, this dark cruiser almost blends into the surrounding night; the huge sails painted with the logo of the Ring of Order swell high with the roaring sea wind.

A man wearing a three-cornered hat and a high-collared leather windbreaker stood on the deck holding the mast; the high-erected collar and brim of the hat covered most of his face, revealing only a pair of deep blue eyes. Eyes, plus the extremely conspicuous "Lightning Skull" logo on the collar.

For people living in the Adran area, just seeing this pattern is enough to make them frightened and frightened; the moment it appears, it means that Adran's Church Tribunal, the Order of the Storm, is nearby. .

Curses, storms, shipwrecks... wherever they appear, they are bound to be shrouded in misfortune; anyone who has personally experienced the scene will be considered a gift from the Ring of Order as long as they can die without pain.

The man stared at the water shrouded by night and heavy rain. The strange-looking silver compass in his hand seemed to have malfunctioned. The spiral-shaped pure gold pointer was swinging wildly among twelve gemstones of different colors engraved with mysterious runes.

Even so, he still didn't give up. His eyes narrowed under his frown, trying to find something in the bottomless darkness.

After an unknown amount of time, a flash of light caught the corner of his eyes from behind; he slowly looked back and saw a judge wearing similar clothes to himself and holding an oil lamp walking onto the deck.

"Captain Edward, what did you find?"

"No, Second Inquisitor Gray, it seems that luck is not on our side this time."

The man known as "Gray" sighed after hearing this, and his resolute face under the oil lamp showed a bit of worry: "But we have been at sea for almost a month. If we still don't gain anything...could it be our colleagues from Beigang?" They made some mistakes and mistook ordinary Old God sect activities for..."

"I don't think so." Edward interrupted:

"In terms of retrieving and observing the Old God Sect, Clovis's colleagues are far more experienced and more skilled than us; not to mention that they can send the information as soon as possible from thousands of miles away, which is enough to believe that it must have been carefully verified. , confirmed and correct.”

"And the anomalies in the Turbulent Sea can also be regarded as evidence of this information... The activities of the Lord of the Abyss this year are much more frequent than in the past; for these monsters who are hostile to the world, doing so is equivalent to consuming their own lifespan. It is not a last resort. That's never the case."

"But even if the information is true, we can't stay any longer."

Gray's expression was solemn: "The Explorer has been at sea for a month. In this month, we have experienced at least five storms, and we have also surrounded and suppressed three pirates... The energy, supplies, and ship's wear and tear are not enough to support our search. Work."

"Even if we finally find it, in our current situation, we can only watch helplessly..."

The words stopped abruptly.

The two people who faced each other widened their eyes at the same time, and saw their own stiff and stunned expressions in each other's pupils.

Quietly, something changed in the dark night shrouded by rain.

The howling of the wind and the roar of the waves gradually faded away, and the world gradually fell into a strange silence, swallowed bit by bit by the power called "dead silence".

Under the feet of the two inquisitors, the creaking Explorer was still sailing unsteadily on the sea; it was just holding up the bottom of the ship, which was transformed from the original sea water into some kind of... equally "soft" entity.

It wraps and entwines the ship, moving slowly in the darkness; like the islands on the back of a whale, it is so quiet, harmonious and peaceful.

The huge main body holds up the bottom of the ship, "simulating" the tumbling waves with bursts of squirming; the extended part wraps the decks on both sides to ensure that it will not tilt, and the small branches pull the sails, as if they are really moving. The wind blows forward.

as if……

The cold rain was still washing over the two figures on the deck. The biting touches took away not only the temperature, but also their vitality.

Before they even noticed it, they saw a few wrinkles appear on each other's faces, their skin color began to become dull, and the hair on their temples and forehead became a little silverier.

Suddenly, Edward felt that the compass in his hand became heavier than it was at the beginning; the eyes that he was trying to move inevitably shrank at the moment of focusing.

The dripping rainwater turned into dark red viscous plasma on the compass, making the pointer that was originally rotating rapidly become slower and slower.

Finally, the spiral-shaped gold needle tip stopped firmly on a bright ruby.

boom--

Everything is gone.

The compass returned to its malfunctioning state again, and the strong wind mixed with raindrops made a roar that shook the earth. The endless rain filled the night, beating the already boiling waves, roaring like thousands of war drums.

Everything was back to normal again, but not quite.

The two inquisitors on the deck were still staring at each other's faces, looking at the crystals of sweat or rain streaking across their cheeks, and their eyes filled with fear.

"Captain Edward..."

"time!"

Before the other party could finish speaking, Edward, with a gloomy expression, interrupted: "What time is it now?!"

The startled Gray woke up instantly and hurriedly took out his pocket watch from his pocket. He opened the cover of the watch tremblingly and almost threw it out:

"It's three-fifteen, it's three-fifteen in the morning!"

After hearing his subordinate's answer, Edward was silent for a moment. The time difference between this time and the countdown in his mind just now was about one minute; excluding some errors, it should be that the overflow of that power affected his perception of time.

"Sound the alarm immediately and notify all personnel on the ship to return to their respective posts and enter the first level of alert!"

Edward took the lantern directly from the inferior judge: "Tell them to return immediately and return to the headquarters of the Storm Order as quickly as possible without any delay!"

"From now on until arriving at the port, no one among all the judges is allowed to fall asleep. They must monitor each other's mental states. Suspicious targets must be reported immediately!"

Now? !

Nervously, Gray's eyes widened, but he made no rebuttal: "Yes!"

While speaking, he couldn't help but glance at the other person's face - compared to a few minutes ago, the wrinkles on Edward's face were indeed more obvious than before, and the silver hair on his temples was also a lot thicker.

After giving the order, the chief judge nodded slightly and walked toward the captain's cabin with a lantern in hand.

The moment he pushed the door open, the voice of the inferior judge stopped him in his tracks.

"team leader!"

Looking at Edward's back, Gray, whose face was still full of panic, couldn't help but yelled: "Just, that... that was..."

"Ah, you guessed it right."

Edward said calmly, his blue pupils glowing with solemn light:

"My colleagues in Beigang, perhaps even they themselves did not expect what they found. It was not an ordinary spell caster, or a blasphemous mage whose name was not found in the records of the Church of Order."

"That's...the apostle!"

……………………

Beluga Harbor, Parliament.

"Huh... finally sent her away."

Anson, who was mumbling to himself, changed his usual caution and slumped on the sofa in a very imageless manner. His limbs were hanging naturally, his eyes were vacant, and his whole figure was like a rubber ball that had been drained of the air.

Alan Dawn stood cautiously beside him. His reserved posture was akin to that of a child who asked adults to help clean up the mess. He stood there motionless, not even daring to raise his hand to straighten his crooked tie.

In his young mind, a slightly older lady from a well-off family is simply the embodiment of "virtue": graceful and maternal appearance, elegant and stylish clothing, and always cooking delicious food with skill and skill. , always so gentle, considerate, and meticulous, even if the tone and voice are different, they are all so reserved, smart, and generous.

Although the little secretary is only sixteen years old this year, his aesthetic appreciation of women has matured to the level of a sixty-year-old.

Until today.

After meeting Mr. Anson Bach, Mrs. Wetzler, who had been able to remain calm, immediately burst into tears and complained tearfully about the cruelty of Speaker Harold’s widow and the shamelessness of the Harold Foundation, telling her what happened during this period. How life is worse than death, how frightening it is.

Pulling hair, sharp nails, crying, crying and howling... completely shattered the little secretary's fantasy of a "beautiful woman".

Of course, more importantly, it is completely unreasonable.

No matter how much Mr. Anson promised, he promised that he would never let the Wetzler family suffer any injustice, she seemed not to hear him at all and continued to cry; and as long as the name "Harold" was mentioned in any sentence, The whole person instantly felt like a carnivore that smelled the scent of prey and wanted to pounce on it and bite it.

This kind of persuasion filled with all kinds of nonsense, crying and promises lasted for more than an hour. It seemed that he might be tired of crying and took a nap in the lounge next to him. Anson, whose voice was hoarse, immediately found Fabian and asked him to Send someone to "respectfully send Mrs. Wetzler back home."

The commander of the Grenadier Corps, who was experienced in public security work, resisted Mrs. Wetzler's crying, and with a cold face, he put the emotionally broken lady into the carriage with a slightly tough attitude. Accompanied by several guards, light speed left the parliament.

After a few more minutes, the little secretary dared to walk forward slowly, holding a cup of warm honey water in his hand:

"Sir Anson, your performance just now was so amazing that I, who have little talent and knowledge, can't even find any suitable adjectives."

"No need to be so exaggerated." Anson smiled tiredly and took the throat soothing drink he handed him:

"The Wetzler family is an important local supporter of the Luen family and the Stormtroopers in Beluga Harbor. It is a natural obligation to protect them. Otherwise, who else would be willing to be loyal to us?"

"But Mason Wetzler is dead, and all his connections and various interests have been cut off. Even if his son and Mrs. Wetzler can still inherit a part, they have lost their use value to you."

The little clerk was still puzzled: "What's more, after such a long time, although there are still objections in Beluga Port, it has essentially accepted the existence of the Storm Division and the Luen family, and no longer needs Mason Wetzler. It’s a middleman, isn’t it?”

"Yes...and no."

Letting the warm honey moisten his throat, which was so dry that it was about to burst into flames, Anson's spirit immediately recovered a lot: "Mason Wetzler's death does not mean that the value of the Wetzler family has completely disappeared."

"It is true that we no longer need a middleman to balance the relationship between the storm masters and the locals for us, but the wealth, influence and part of the relationship network controlled by the Wetzler family are still there, and can still be inherited; it is absolutely possible Let them shine in a new and different corner of the world - say, as a director of the Coal Bank of the future."

"Even if you have no independent opinion, it can give the Rune family an extra seat in the bank, give them a stronger voice, and make it less likely to cause resentment from others. At the same time, it can also serve as a model to win people's hearts and let them see that they are loyal to Rune. Family benefits.”

"In the end... even without these, they were loyal to me after all. It is not my style to treat my subordinates and allies as irrecyclable items that can be discarded after use."

"Then your style is..."

"No one is completely useless, they are just not in the right position."

"That's it." The little secretary suddenly realized.

"In the final analysis, I am actually a pacifist who has nothing to do with the world. As long as you are willing to cooperate with me, it does not matter whether you are willing or not. What does it matter if you have different opinions, positions, ideas and beliefs about me?" Anson further lamented:

"It's a pity that not everyone has the same idea. Such people must be dealt with resolutely and thoroughly so that they can no longer destroy my perfect plan - since they can't cooperate, they can only be enemies. .”

"So, your cooperation means..."

"Either accept my plan or obey my orders." Anson hummed:

"After all, no matter what you do, you have to have a plan, so naturally you should choose the most perfect one among all plans... What do you think, Allen?"

The little secretary put his hands behind his back and smiled elegantly:

"I think it's what you say, Lord Anson."

"Uh, this seems to be too much...forget it." Anson waved his hand:

"Go and inform the members who are coming to the meeting soon. The topic to be discussed today is how to entertain the governor and the Roland family's envoys, and what to do if they arrive at the same time - come up with something that can be accepted by both parties at the same time, and will not let them Plans come into conflict with each other.”

"Yes, Commander-in-Chief." The little secretary put his left hand on his chest and bowed:

"Your order is my 'cooperation'."