Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 212. The Prophet



Chapter 212. The Prophet

Chapter 212. The Prophet

Soon enough, Gordon led Charles and his crew through a bustling alley. The human presence was notably more pronounced. It seemed as though this was their entertainment hub. There were inns, bars, brothels and casinos.

As they passed by a brothel that emitted a thick perfume fragrance, a perverted smirk crept onto Gordon's face. "Friend, would you like to try the specialty of the Shattered Heart Isles?"

"What specialty?" Charles asked.

"What else?" Gordon let out a chuckle. "Obviously, the women of the Haikor Tribe. Imagine boasting in the bars about having fucked a three-meter-tall woman. All men would look up to you in admiration!"

Charles covered Lily's ears almost instantly. Unamused, he said, "Enough with the nonsense. Take us to the inn now. I've got important matters to attend to."

Seeing that Charles had no intentions of entering the brothel, Gordon sighed in defeat and muttered, "You'll regret turning down such a great chance."

Soon, they arrive at a massive inn. Gordon energetically negotiated with the Haikor man who ran the place. The man looked Charles and his crew up and down before handing Gordon several keys as large as palms.

"Let's go. Here’s the key," Gordon said and tapped on the table before turning to Charles."

For their safety on foreign land, Charles deliberately asked for just one suite so that quick assistance would be possible if anyone ran into an emergency.

"Here, try this Shattered Heart Isles' special gray tea," Gordon offered enthusiastically as he held a gigantic glass teapot in his hands. "It's great for sailors just returning from sea."

As the crew eagerly drank the tea, Charles turned to Gordon and nodded in approval. "You did well."

"Well, you paid me for my services, so there's no need to thank me. Please have some tea," Gordon replied and offered Charles a cup of the gray liquid.

Charles simply looked down at the cup without drinking it. He asked, "Where's the Prophet of the Haikor Tribe? Take me to him."

He had successfully arrived at the Shattered Heart Isles, so it was time for him to seek the Prophet to get rid of the Divinity's Curses once and for all.

Gordon’s expression darkened upon hearing the word prophet. Regarding Charles with uncertainty, he carefully asked, "You’re acquainted with the Prophet?"

"No, but I came to seek their help."

Gordon breathed a sigh of relief and settled down his cup. "That was such a scare. It's easier that you don't know the Prophet."

As soon as Gordon's words left his lips, the Narwhale's crew members collapsed to the floor.

Clang!

The windows burst open, and a horde of menacing humans and Haikors jumped through, instantly surrounding Charles and his comrades.

"Kid. Don't trust strangers so easily next time, especially when you are in a foreign territory," Gordon gloated, his expression shifting to one of smug satisfaction as his cohorts filled the room. He recognized the cash cow before him and was certain that he had struck gold.

The corners of Charles' lips curved up into a slight smile, and a cold glint flickered across his eyes. He nudged Bandages, who was lying next to him, with his foot.

Previously lying prone on the ground, the Narwhale's crew members suddenly rose to their feet with emotionless expressions and brandished their weapons.

A hint of disdain surfaced on Laesto's countenance as he lifted his cup for another sip. "Such a strong scent of the herb, and to use it so blatantly... Amateurs."

With a roar, James grew into his enlarged form and lunged at their adversaries. In an instant, gunshots and screams echoed incessantly throughout the room.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the chaos subsided. Gordon stood to the side; his face was as pale as a ghost as he watched the Narwhale's crew members clean up the bodies. Even with no one standing before him or keeping him bound, he didn’t dare to make even a single movement.

Splat!

Charles' hand heavily landed on Gordon's shoulder and sent a shudder through the latter's body.

"Take me to the Prophet," Charles instructed.

Terrified to the bones, Gordon struggled to respond and eventually stuttered a word—okay.

Charles had his guard up ever since Gordon approached him. Warm greetings from strangers in unfamiliar lands usually bode ill.

After leaving the inn, Gordon swiftly led Charles back to the docks and pointed to a parked boat in the distance.

"The Prophet is on another island. We need to take a boat over."

All of a sudden, Charles kicked Gordon hard in the back and sent him sprawling to the ground. He lifted his revolver and fired several shots at Gordon's left arm. Accompanied by a brutal display of exploding flesh and splattering blood, Gordon's entire left arm was severed.

Gordon let out a blood-curdling scream as he clutched his severed limb, and his entire body trembled violently. The next moment, his screams ceased as Charles pressed the gun barrel to his mouth.

"If you are thinking of deceiving me again, you're dead!" Charles warned, his eyes filled with thick, murderous intent as he met Gordon's gaze.

Gordon nodded frantically, in fear that Charles might pull the trigger if he reacted just a fraction of a second slower.

The ship left the dock and ferried the crew toward another island. The journey was short, and soon Charles arrived on a desolate island.

Compared to the previous bustling atmosphere, this island appeared rather empty. Apart from a massive, flat-topped temple made of black rocks in the distance, he spotted no other building.

The Haikors he spotted were once again clad in their tightly-concealing robes and wielded long spears. They stood guard around the temple like statues.

"That's where the Prophet is, but they won't allow us entry. That's the forbidden grounds here," Gordon explained as he pressed down on his wound.

The next moment, Charles aimed his revolver at Gordon's head and pulled the trigger.

"I'll be right back. Wait here," Charles instructed his crew and strode toward the distant square-shaped temple.

As expected, the towering figures stopped him from advancing further. Staring at the towering figures with spears over five meters long before him, Charles took out the box again.

The moment their eyes landed on the box, the Haikors sheathed their weapons and resumed ignoring Charles' presence.

Charles examined the box in his hands and inspected it from all angles. However, no matter how much he turned the box, it still looked like an ordinary wooden box to him. He couldn't comprehend why the Haikors had displayed such a huge change in attitude upon seeing it.

He ascended the smooth steps and entered the black rock temple.

Contrary to Charles' expectations, the room was bathed in a deep, blood-red hue. The color was so intense that it made Charles' eyes ache after a while. The interior was minimalistic; there was a pool at the center, and numerous red candles encircled it.

Suddenly, a stark naked Haikor woman emerged from the pool. She was unlike the other Haikors Charles had encountered. Her body was etched with twisting, long tattoos.

She approached Charles and took the box in his hand. She then walked back to the pool and poured some of the powder within the box into the water.

"The Prophet awaits you below," she said before kneeling on the floor. Those were her first and last words, as she didn’t speak anymore.

An unsettling anxiety rose in Charles as he observed the bizarre scene. It seemed like she was asking him to jump into the pool.

However, who knew what lay beneath it? In his mind, he had imagined the Prophet to be an old man with long white hair. But now, he wasn't quite sure whether the Prophet was human or something else entirely.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Charles laid his wariness aside and approached the pool. He had complete trust in Anna. If she said there was a solution to his problem, then she certainly wouldn't harm him.

There was a splash as Charles jumped into the pool.

The moment he entered the water, he opened his eyes to survey his surroundings but saw nothing. Before he became confused, however, a shimmer of colors glimmered below him.

Swirls of rainbow hues floated up toward him, but for some reason, they reminded him of a collection of deceased rainbows.

It was only when they drew closer that Charles realized that they were semi-transparent, multicolored jellyfish.

As Charles pondered over the strange happenings, an ethereal voice sounded in his mind.

"Hello, Charles. I have been waiting for you for a long time. Don't need to stare elsewhere; I am these jellyfish."

The Prophet was a bloom of jellyfish?!

Charles parted his lips to speak, but the air escaping from his mouth instantly turned into bubbles that floated up the surface.


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