Windrest Valley. Many years ago, this place was once a prosperous mining town used to extract a type of spiritual energy crystal called Windrest Stone, serving as material for mages or processed with other auxiliary materials into temperature regulation facilities for wealthy households.
The valley derived its name from this.
As the mineral deposits depleted and were completely mined out, this barren and harsh land naturally fell into abandonment.
Yet many ancient town ruins remained—rusty mining iron frame pillars, broken walls and crumbling remnants appearing utterly desolate amidst the eternal bleakness of the green mountain ranges, with the swift winds within the valley terrain being particularly cutting.
"Are you sure this is the place?"
Li Site's group tied their horses to trees beside the paved road. It was already afternoon, and they didn't know if they were late or not, or whether those two people were still alive.
To deal with pursuing soldiers, running on the main road would be like stretching one's neck for execution. They had to leave the stone-paved road and enter the deep mountains and dense forests. The horses of the Western Continent were proper horses, not like those sky-flying, earth-diving, time-space traversing horses ridden by Dragonborn in Skyrim Province, unable to handle complex terrain with varying slopes and overgrown bushes.
"Keep going southeast, about fifteen li."
Carols took out an ornately carved, antique-textured brass compass from his ragged clothes. The pointer aimed toward the deep mountains and old forests to the southeast. This compass was a spiritual energy artifact—a pair of two compasses with a hundred li range limit, mutually marking each other's location.
Cloud made this judgment. At this moment, his twenty-plus subordinates caught up and joined the rescue operation.
"No time left. We must get to them before sunset. If we drag into night without finding them, not only will our difficulty increase, but the port might also see changes."
Li Site figured the pursuers here had probably sent people to tip off the Military Police in Linden City. Damn it, encountering the worst possible situation. By then, the road from Lavender Town to Secret Port would definitely be completely blocked, meaning Black Sails would have to fully engage in battle with those Arlan people.
This wouldn't just be fighting their way through—it would be an annihilation battle where only one side survives. They'd have to let the invincible General Fen figure something out.
"Now we must fight for every minute and second. The longer we delay, the faster Linden City will be blocked."
Li Site borrowed a handy broadsword from one of Cloud's subordinates as a tool for clearing paths in the jungle, already cutting through several bushes. Dense forests weren't just trees—coastal areas' rainfall grew many clustered woody plants.
"No need for that trouble. We must conserve energy."
Carols currently felt relatively reliable about this group of four. Though they reeked of sea smell—typical pirates—their judgment was unquestionable. The Count had decent discernment.
Carols placed his hand on his thick greatsword, his dry, cracked lips continuously moving as he quietly recited prayers. He was praying to the Light Thunder God among the thirteen Holy Spirits, also known as the Lord of Endless Skies.
"Big bro, now's not the time for rituals."
Li Site was dumbfounded. Truly a fanatic from The Church.
Cloud interrupted Li Site, telling him to be quiet. As a city dweller from Arlan, he knew about the wonders of various churches and understood the Punisher position better than the Black Sails crew. Broadly speaking, all incredible phenomena were called arts, but there were significant distinctions, extending into countless categories: astrology, prophecy, arcane arts, curse techniques, etc. The Church called their arts miracles.
It wasn't that reciting prayers would directly take effect—otherwise everyone would be Punishers. Prayers were just a medium or psychological suggestions to oneself, involving deep, mysterious connections perhaps related to the power of faith. Without being a fanatic, one couldn't understand these relationships, and nobody knew if true gods existed.
Punishers were those within the Holy Spirit Church who could sense the Holy Spirits and borrow a portion of their endless great power.
As Carols wiped his hand along the sword, with a strange humming sound, golden lightning like countless flying threads and swimming snakes coiled around the blade, lingering without dispersing, tangling into chaotic, fiercely churning madness with terrifying momentum.
As Carols wiped his hand along the sword, with a strange humming sound, golden lightning like countless flying threads and swimming snakes coiled around the blade, lingering without dispersing, tangling into chaotic, fiercely churning madness with terrifying momentum.
Li Site was stunned. There really are Holy Spirits? General Fen got me killed with his atheism crap! I've insulted every named god in this area over the past ten years—doesn't that mean I'm screwed? But nothing happened all these years, so probably Second Master shielded me. Eternal Guan Gong!
Carols walked ahead of Li Site to lead the way. When encountering blocking bushes, he swept them with his lightning sword, all turning into charred powder, efficiency increased who knows how many times.
Li Site calmed his mind. Now wasn't the time for these thoughts. Just these five of them should go. The horses for the return journey must be well guarded, otherwise they'd be completely trapped and destroyed. He had Cloud's twenty-plus subordinates stay behind.
The group of five followed Carols' guidance, moving through the dense forest at maximum speed, crossing down slopes, wading through streams, heading toward the Punisher's compass marker point.
All were the most ruthless of the ruthless who walked the edge of life and death—none had poor physical ability.
Li Site's group encountered the Arlan pursuers forming an encirclement net. These pursuers were all too familiar with Carols' face.
Their combat quality was leagues above those from Linden City—pursuers and siege troops padding resumes weren't on the same level.
The moment the Military Police captain's eyes spotted these people.
"Form ranks, six o'clock direction, fire!"
Over ten riflemen simultaneously raised their guns, pulled triggers, firing at the group of five.
Not to mention Carols and Cloud.
The Black Sails crew had dozens of naval engagements, big and small—pirates, navy, merchant ship guards, bounty hunters—they'd killed who knows how many. How could they be unfamiliar with this?
The five reacted extremely quickly, all hiding behind trees. As the gunfire ended and smoke filled the air, the smoothbore guns' accuracy being terrible to begin with, no one was hit.
The Military Police captain had excellent quality, knowing the Punisher was extremely formidable—from chasing from the Great Wall to the East Coast, he'd already killed over seventy of their people. The others were definitely rescue forces from the coast—how could his people be opponents?
By the time reloading finished, the other side would already have killed through. He immediately ordered dispersed retreat, defense with close combat weapons, and regrouping at the field officer's position.
A squad of Military Police immediately began running up the mountainside.
A squad of Military Police immediately began running up the mountainside.
This wasn't assassination now—it was frontal combat. Sven didn't use daggers but instead held two short knives in his mouth, using all four limbs to dart out. The moment he leaped to kill, he dual-wielded the short knives, jumped onto a Military Police soldier's back, crossed the knives at the neck, and immediately decapitated him, blood gushing like a spring from the neck stump.
Shadi had once traveled the Far Eastern Islands and learned qigong—at least that's what he claimed.
Truly like lightweight art, he tilted his body and took several steps vertically at ninety degrees on a tree trunk then forcefully pushed off, actually borrowing force through rapid stepping between trees as if flying, his black raincoat weaving like a ghostly phantom. His slender willow-leaf blade first decapitated one person; another couldn't react in time as the knife stabbed into his back, emerging a large section from his stomach, directly piercing through.
In terms of footwork, both Carols and Cloud were first-rate, quickly catching up. Carols' lightning sword had astonishing destructive power, cutting through metal and severing iron. When Military Police tried to block with swords, they were sliced in half, their chainmail offering no protection as they were diagonally cut through the upper body, sliding off with large cross-sections charred black, not a drop of blood flowing out.
In terms of footwork, both Carols and Cloud were first-rate, quickly catching up. Carols' lightning sword had astonishing destructive power, cutting through metal and severing iron. When Military Police tried to block with swords, they were sliced in half, their chainmail offering no protection as they were diagonally cut through the upper body, sliding off with large cross-sections charred black, not a drop of blood flowing out.
Carols shouted at Cloud, who for some reason had a forehead full of sweat, his sword movements hesitant, actually being pressured into inferiority by a Military Police soldier.
This tall, thick-boned man leading twenty-plus troops—Carols couldn't understand how he was being suppressed by a mere foot soldier.