Chapter 583: Ferocity
Translator: Translation Nation Editor: Translation Nation
As that figure climbed to the second floor in escape, he continued staggering and coughing; splattered drops of bright red repeatedly squeezed through the gaps of his fingers.
A spectacular sea of darkness was engulfing him. He shut his eyes and continued advancing forward even amidst a murky sky of darkness.
Pulses of weakness pierced his mental defenses, withering away his willpower.
In this instant, he truly felt tired of life as fatigue crept up his body insatiably, inciting a desire to take a peaceful rest…...for all eternity.
Indeed, he was the lord of Chevalle’s pirate fleet! Chevalle himself.
Today, he had to engage in battle with Little Lord Fokke although his wounds hadn’t recovered from the recent naval war. Though it appears he had dealt a severe blow to Little Lord Fokke, to eradicate the contagious epidemic transmitted by Little Lord Fokke was absolutely not an easy feat.
While Chevalle’s pirates were retreating, a random clueless carriage rode past the tavern.
In the perspective of an individual in this carriage, the individual merely wished to survey the present commotion. After all, this tavern was indeed located in an exceptional strategic and prosperous region. Undoubtedly once something happens, seizing the first opportunity to snatch away this tavern would secure exceeding advantages for anyone.
Hence, the chauffeur of this carriage wished to obtain first hand information, and sell it off for a good value.
Yet when the carriage chauffeur observed a disorderly mess of corpses with his great eyesight, he decisively spurred the carriage away. He understood that his present strength didn’t warrant him the capability to participate in this battle. He definitely didn’t wish to become one of those gruesome corpses.
Because his attention being totally fixated on those heaps of corpses, he failed to notice a violently coughing Sheyan by the edge of the carriage.
Sheyan grabbed the edge and jumped into the carriage behind. His current figure was being shielded by the carriage, making it impossible for Little Lord Fokke to notice him. Only when that carriage had departed for a hundred metres, did Little Lord Fokke regain his senses, and hatefully pursued the carriage’s departing direction with large strides.
At this moment, the carriage chauffeur abruptly begun to cough lightly.
The pandemic virus disseminated by Little Lord Fokke was exceedingly obnoxious, yet it would flare up slower within an individual of higher physique and prowess. Moreover, the virus’ deadliness would also weaken in correlation. That was why Chevalle still managed to inflict a severe blow to Little Lord Fokke even in his weak and wounded state.
Nevertheless, the vilest aspect of Little Lord Fokke’s epidemic, was that it was impossible to prevent from flaring up. Once someone gets contaminated, it would merely be a matter time before it flares up. Once it flares up, it would definitely infiltrate the victim’s bone marrow like a parasitic maggot, and not disperse for a long time; issuing a pain of being flayed even if one didn’t die.
This carriage chauffeur had merely took a glance from afar, still he had been infected.
Yet probably because he only caught a tiny bit of the virus strain, its flaring up effects weren’t too severe. He only coughed and felt dizzy, while occasionally coughing out blood. Still, the carriage velocity inevitably declined.
When that happened, Sheyan leapt out of the carriage.
Clutching his chest, he strutted into another nearby tavern.
Little Lord Fokke continued pursuing with austere ice devoid of living vitality, dragging along heavy footsteps while emitting the clanking dreadfulness of his armour. He headed straight towards that bustling tavern...….
News of death would always spread rapidly. Moreover, Tortuga was a bustling port with a size equivalently to that of a small scale city in the modern world.
The pirates weren’t fools that would willingly be Sheyan’s scapegoat. Hence after a portion of an hour, the entire Tortuga became aware of a demon that had appeared in Tortuga.
That demon was currently in hot pursuit of a target. If one didn’t wish to die, then one should distance themselves. So much so that some pirates even disregarded everything and retired to their ships, in fear of the contagious pandemic.
Thus, Sheyan was thrown into dire circumstances. Moreover, he was constantly coughing out blood and staggering like a dying rat being toyed by a cat. Nevertheless, he painstakingly persevered, as he pulled himself along.
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In the end, the greatest defence was offence. Sheyan was finally forced into desperation.
Right now, there was no other alternatives of escaping.
Behind him was a three hundred metres towering cliff, with scattered Wolf-fang cliffs beneath and consistent perpetual large waves crashing against them. Countless splashes of white foam resulted before the waves receded back into the ocean.
Without a doubt, landing onto those reefs was a definite if one lost his footing, and fell from such an altitude. Death would be inevitable, so much so that becoming crippled or a vegetable would be out of the question.
Little Lord Fokke marched a step forward, a pair of icy eyes shining with an inhumane gaze behind his helmet’s visor.
"Hand, over, the diary, to me, and I shall spare you a quick death."
Sheyan abruptly lowered his head as he wiped his bloodstained mouth. "Do you still remember that red birthmark?"
Little Lord Fokke casted a vacant expression towards him.
Sheyan then curled his lips into a smirk. "Ah, that red birthmark atop our beautiful Lady Sally Hepburn’s left bosom. Could it be our venerable Lord Fokke has forgotten even after toying countless times?"
Instantly, Little Lord Fokke’s body turned rigid!!!
Sally Hepburn was a name that was seemingly inscribed within Little Fokke’s soul! How could he forget, how will he forget?
Even when Little Lord Fokke had given up everything, he refused to forsake this memory. Although this memory came with a tormenting ache, Little Lord Fokke would direct this torment towards cultivating his strength; unleashing the torment he suffered ten folds against his opponents!
While Little Lord Fokke’s mind was still plainly distracted, Sheyan continued spewing his toxic words as though he was a poisonous serpent.
"I heard the relationship between husband and wife was filled with loving affection, but your impotence failed to satisfy your wife. Her excessive emptiness fueled her lust to fool around with guards, fool around with your servants, with a bartender, and even a pirate..."
"You." Little Lord Fokke’s voice remained icy cold, but his rapidly heaving chest revealed his agitated demeanor. "Sally didn’t fool around with any bartender!"
"Oh, she did." Sheyan very assuredly shrugged his shoulders. "Because I am that bartender." When his words came out, Little Lord Fokke hesitated awhile before perceiving the underlying meaning.
He no longer uttered a single word, or perhaps, he didn’t wish to continue this mindless chatter.
Sheyan continued to fuel the raging fire, as he earnestly reiterated the steamy encounter of Sally Hepburn and Jack Sparrow he witnessed that day. The only difference was, he replaced Jack Sparrow with himself.
One had to admit, Little Lord Fokke was awfully clear on his wife’s unusual habits when committing the deed. Furthermore, Sheyan craftily explained them in great details, crafting a story that couldn’t be refuted!
Instantly, Little Lord Fokke charged at Sheyan with frenzied aggression. He no longer desired to listen to this affair, one that felt like frantic burning lashes flogging his naked heart. A fanatical fury thoroughly engulfed Little Lord Fokke in this instance.
In a flash, Little Lord Fokke unleashed streaks of ‘Pestering Death’! Black magic that carried the terrifying rot of pandemic death! The black gaseous could be vividly seen congealing into substance around Little Lord Fokke, forming into slender tendrils that twisted towards his nemesis ahead.
Sheyan attempted to roll and evade but couldn’t help shrieking miserably, as he was evidently tortured by immense pain.
Little Lord Fokke appeared exceedingly pleased with such an outcome, taking great delight in his nemesis’s bitter screams. Only by torturing his nemesis for three days and night, could he finally appease the resentment in his heart!
Hence, he continued frenziedly unleashing streaks of bitter black magic, while offering some leeway for Sheyan to defend; preventing Sheyan from being directly dealt a fatal blow.
Under the mournful screams of his nemesis, Little Lord Fokke gradually calmed down as he suddenly felt something was amiss.
That’s right!! Why was this scoundrel screaming so loudly. Technically speaking, he should already be gasping for his last breath!
Moreover, why isn’t there a single trace of festering black on his skin?
Thinking of that, Little Lord Fokke’s pupils instantly constricted. He immediately pulled out his awe-inspiring, chilling Symbol Ice sword, before beheading down onto the cowering Sheyan!
Yet at this instant, his heart flushed with an unexplainably queer sensation.
This was an exceptionally foreign sensation. The previous time he felt such a sensation, was probably when he heard of Sally’s betrayal.
Still, an incisive sword blade, emanating faint white mist, whizzed down; slashing straight for the grounded and cowering Sheyan, as it threatened to directly sever his head from his neck.
But at this very moment, the cowering Sheyan suddenly stretched out his hand and seized the icy sharp blade!
A thin sky ice instantly condensed onto his palm, rapidly freezing his hand! In spite of that, the sword blade only sufficed to cut through half the fleshy palm, before halting in its path!
This forbearing pervert wolf was finally baring its malicious fangs!!