564 Avalon, I’m Back

In the ink-like pitch black darkness, sharp sounds rang out one after another.

It was caused by the tentacles of Ten-thousand-hand Clergy scraping against the steel.

In the tugging and restraint of the tentacles, the Mountain of Nomadism was almost snatched up from the surface of the sea, and the machinery hung on the deck was crushed in an instant.

At the foremost, Shi Dong stood quietly. Despite the thick tentacles stirring up hurricanes that brushed past him, he merely looked up and stared at the demon close at hand.

He looked at its strange eye.

And he couldn't help but smile.

Instinctively, the huge squid felt an unexplained uneasiness. Just looking at the old man's face made it feel threatened.

It had been more than 200 years.

From the start till the present...

Since Shi Dong held his sword for the first time, countless demons had seen the cold, forbidding smile at the corner of the old man's lips before their deaths.

At the moment, the smile had been stained with blood, lending a grotesque note to it, and exuded a chilling and fearsome aura, like one of graves and bones.

Even though he was so ancient that he would soon return to dust, even though he was so old that he couldn't stand without a cane, it hadn't changed.

The iron-like fanaticism contained in the smile did not diminish at all, as if it was within his soul, or was a flame that was being passed from the carcass of a demon to another...

"I am here," Shi Dong stood up, using his sword as support, and murmured to it softly. Then, a sound beyond tens of thousands of times louder than the noise just now burst forth.

On the huge hull of the Mountain of Nomadism, the innumerable fasteners hidden under the armor were detonated in an instant and detached themselves. The scaly armor fell off the hull like leaves dropping.

Wrung by the tentacles, the steel shell that had lost its support shriveled. However, its true nature that had been hidden under the camouflage revealed itself to the world for the first time as the crack spread.

It was like a monster breaking free from the cage holding it prisoner.

It was... alive!

Beneath the snake skull hung on the bow, the blazing glows, which resembled a pair of eyes, turned bright red.

The iron shell shattered and collapsed. Under the iron shell, a behemoth with warm and rancid breath revealed itself. The huge mouth full of sharp teeth, with its gums showing, was slowly opening! As if it was grinning, it lovingly gave the prey that had delivered itself to the doorstep a kiss, then…shut suddenly!

The darkness was boiling.

The ink-like dark fog was like a dying leper, madly convulsing, expanding, contracting, roaring, crying…

First, a series of earth-shattering loud bangs rang out.

Then, painful screams sounded.

In the end, only a chilling munching sound remained.

Crack… Crack… Crack…

When the fog slowly dissipated, only the Mountain of Nomadism that was stained a dark green by the blood was still floating on the sea. Insignificant pieces of meat and residue slowly sank into the sea. As for the Ten-thousand-hand Clergy which had been reigning in the deep sea for centuries, it had completely disappeared without a trace.

"Elder Shi Dong, are you..." Carol climbed up the deck clumsily, full of worry, but lowered his voice without realizing it when he saw the figure standing in the pool of blood, with his back straight still. "Are you alright?"

"Me? I can't possibly feel any better." Shi Dong turned back with a smile on his aged face, and an indescribable sense of satisfaction in his smile. "I hadn't been expecting such a refreshing appetizer right after reaching Avalon…

"Carol, I'm starting to like this era," he said.

-

"What's going on here?"

At the moment when it was clear who had won the battle, everyone fell silent for a short while, as if they were doubting their own eyes. But it was soon followed with boiling ecstasy and cheers.

"The Ten-thousand-hand Clergy has been defeated!!!"

The blood of the demons was ignited in the purifying movements. The Mountain of Nomadism bathing in flames cut through the waves and slowly advanced in the magnificent movements. Like an iron plow turning the soil, invisible forces from it continuously fished out demons hiding in the seawater and tore them apart.

So, the turbid seawater was dyed an ink-like crimson red. The viscous blood floated on the surface of the sea like grease, fueling the fire. The scorching hot flames spread in the water, illuminating the dark world.

Cheers and praises came from afar, reverberating on the sea. Like thunder, they almost drowned the hisses and roars out.

"Dear all, join the battle, our counter-attack has just begun!" Ye Qingxuan's voice rang out on the bridge of every ship. "We will not retreat in this war! Let us banish the demons from this region of the sea completely, to pay our respects to the souls who have died heroically in battle and the sacrifices in the past!"

He paused and declared resolutely, "Let us reclaim this country, reclaim Avalon!"

Countless people shouted fanatically in response. "Counterattack! Counterattack!" The roars and shouts voice echoed on the entire battlefield. Under the illumination of the holy emblem, bangs and roars sounded once more. The vast, mighty war resumed after a short break!

After a century, the fire of burning stakes was reignited in the dark night that was too long for one to see when it would end.

After a brief silence, the silhouettes of the Knights of the Round Table rose from Avalon and joined them on the violent battlefield.

As the Mountain of Nomadism advanced, the gigantic demons hidden in the deep sea were pulled out one by one and chopped up into tiny pieces. After the materials that could be utilized were extracted, the remains were mercilessly thrown into the purifying flames.

In the end, the ocean was almost covered by flames. Using demon carcasses as firewood, the flames danced in the hymn, outlining the scene of the purgatory of trial in the mortal world.

The battle lasted for the whole night.

…

It was a short night, but it felt like forever.

When the last giant monster of the deep sea was crushed by a cannonball from the Petitioner, and the dark rivers that the demons had gathered into were burned completely by the flames, the war finally came to an end, for the time being.

Everyone stood where they were, blank looks on their faces, and stared at the sea that was covered in blood and ashes. It was as if they had just awakened from a nightmare and didn't know where they were.

"It has ended?"

"No more demons?"

"We... have won?"

"Victory!!!"

"Long live! Long live Anglo!!!"

The ecstasy of surviving a disaster and the glory of victory after a fierce battle blended together and became an impulsive feeling to tear up in joy. Be it on the decks, in the sky, or in the bridges of the ships, everyone cheered and hugged each other, bursting into tears, screaming and roaring.

Amid the hustle and bustle, in the commander's seat, Ye Qingxuan took off his hat and put it on the table. He stretched tiredly and felt his whole body finally relaxing. Gazing at the city outside the porthole that re-lighted, I couldn't help but smile.

"Return to the harbor." He murmured softly, "Let's go home."

Avalon, I'm back.

…

After traversing through a long and narrow waterway, the sluice of the port which was covered in scratches slowly opened. The machinery rotated, making a sharp scraping noise.

In the turbulent waters, the Royal Navy, with scars all over, finally entered the harbor. They were met with dazzling lights. The crowds were surging and cheering wildly. No matter how hard the guards outside the port tried to block them, it was impossible to extinguish the enthusiasm and ecstasy.

"Long live Avalon!"

"Long live Avalon!"

"Long live Avalon!"

The cheers were like a tsunami. They no longer had to worry about being left behind in the sudden Great Retreat, or being separated from their family members, having to leave their homeland and embark on a long dark journey. The sudden great victory was a shot in the arm to the city that had almost suffocated under the lengthy torture, and the suffering people were full of anticipation for the future. The pitch black warship that had shown up out of the blue brought them hope.

The purifying musicians who opened up land in the World of Dark during the Pioneering Era a century ago had returned again, holding their flaming banners high. They came to the city at its darkest and most vulnerable moment, cast the demons into the flames and illuminated the dim, suffocating world once more.

At the foremost of the crowd, the nobles who had rushed to the scene from various agencies, or even the fleet of evacuation, were not necessarily feeling light-hearted.

The upper-class men, who got to know about the evacuation plan half a day ahead of the commoners, had carried out innumerable secret transactions in the very short period of time to obtain priority in the evacuation and fight for the last remaining resources. Some even ran through a fortune.

The authorities let it go unchecked, as the exhausted Lancelot was too tired to care anymore, and even went so far as to acquiesce in their setting-up of the government in exile.

The evacuation plan ended up being aborted, and the government in exile was nowhere to be seen of course.

Some people were slower in taking action, and had been wringing their hands in frustration or even despair, but felt relieved after the victory, smiling cheerfully and rejoicing at their fate. As for those were quick-handed, they had already boarded the boats a long time ago…

The boats were still here, but they meant nothing now. Although the fate of the city was still uncertain in the coming days, who could guarantee that there would be another suitable timing for evacuation?

In the sudden Great Retreat this time, the nobility and senior officials occupied as much as two-thirds of the fleet. Few of the remaining one-third of tickets fell into the hands of commoners but were priced astronomically, as the prices were driven up wildly due to high demand.

The grassroots were extremely disappointed with them.

The consultants didn't even need to investigate further before they sighed and assured their employers that their credibility and image were presently at a new low, and that they were completely stuck in the Tacitus trap. Whatever they did would be seen as evil deeds.

If another evacuation was to be conducted in the future, then what they would face before the retreat would be an angry riot. At that time, it would be hard to say to whom the spots on the ships would belong to.

Therefore, regarding this savior who had shown up out of the blue, quite a number of people only felt a strong sense of bitterness. They had zero gratitude for him, and even felt a tinge of hatred, despite it being well hidden.

In the complicated looks and hushed conversations of the nobles, the crowd surged. Lead by a Grand Knight and escorted by the garrison, two black carriages drove to the port. One bore the emblem of the Church and was from Westminster Abbey. The door opened, and with the help of the attendants, Mephistopheles, the archbishop who had been blind for many years, got off. The other was even more low-key and bore no emblem.

A pale middle-aged man got out from the carriage. He wore a black formal-looking dress suit, but a sharp-eyed person could see the wrinkles on the corner of his blazer, which clearly had not been changed for many days.

The dress suit was thicker than ordinary. It had thick fur sewn into it and was fairly warm, but his face showed no ruddiness. Instead, he covered his mouth with a handkerchief and coughed so hard that it felt like his heart and lungs would be torn.

A number of years ago, he was badly hurt by an assassin when he was protecting the Empress, and his wound never healed properly. His lung disease had already been determined as incurable.

"Marquis Lancelot..." The soft discussion in the crowd paused. Everyone looked at the figure standing in front and couldn't help but stop talking.

At this moment, the only remaining backbone of Avalon, the actual ruler of the Kingdom of Anglo, the leader of the Privy Council—Lancelot, showed up here alone, without even bringing any attendants along.

He only nodded at Archbishop Mephistopheles, but said nothing and cast his gaze on the black warship entering the port slowly.

He didn't speak a word.