Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

This fact had a far greater impact on Nursi than it had when he himself boarded the ship.

Looking at his utterly horrified expression.

Lei Long's face remained expressionless as he calmly fastened his belt.

Then he turned around and glanced at Nursi with a look that carried a hint of disdain.

Said coldly:
"What are you pointing at?"

I am different from you.

I am searching for a real way out for this country!

Upon hearing this, Nursi was taken aback at first, then let out a light snort tinged with disdain.

But in any case, the tension in my heart suddenly eased at that moment.

My bladder, which had been blocked for a long time, seemed to clear up instantly.

The patter...

A soothing sound of water finally rang out.

As he relaxed and released his tension, he spoke to Rayron in a tone that conveyed a sense of relief and even a touch of sarcasm:
"Yes Yes Yes.

My young master, Raylon.

"So, when exactly did you betray me... ptooey, ptooey, when did you set things right?"

Or are you someone planted by the Military Intelligence Bureau long ago?

Lei Long clearly had no interest in explaining much to Nursi, his "temporary replacement".

The two stood silently on the cold, tiled floor of the toilet.

Time passes minute by minute.

Nursi's heart began to race again. He nervously twisted his fingers and glanced at the closed door every now and then.

Just as he was about to ask, the familiar, slightly impatient voice of the eldest prince, Orlando, suddenly came from outside the door:
Hey! You two!
Did you fall into the toilet? Why does it take so long to use the toilet?

"The food is all served, come back quickly!"

!!!

The voice struck Nursi's heart like a thunderclap.

His eyes widened instantly, his face filled with disbelief and horror.

A surge of emotions welled up within me:

"what happened?"

"Why is His Highness Orlando still calling for us from outside?"

"Didn't the Military Intelligence Bureau take action?"

"Did the plan fail?"

A chilling sense of despair instantly gripped his heart.

In stark contrast to his panic.

Upon hearing the voice, Lei Long, who was standing to the side, breathed a sigh of relief.

The corners of his usually taut lips curved upwards slightly, a barely perceptible arc.

He spoke to Nursi, who was still in a daze, in a calm, almost cold tone:
"Let's go, the plan has succeeded."

"Is it...successful?"

Nursi could hardly believe his ears. He opened his mouth wide and uttered a single, confused syllable:
"what?"

He simply couldn't understand why Orlando was still outside, jumping around and shouting.

How do you determine if something is "successful"?

Looking at his dull and dazed appearance, Lei Long couldn't help but feel a strong sense of disdain and annoyance.

idiot!

Why would headquarters assign me to a mission with this kind of trash?
This really lowers my standards!

He didn't even have the desire to explain further; he simply gave Nursi a cold glance.

Then he turned around, took the lead, pushed open the toilet door, and walked out.

He walked straight toward the private room.

Nursi stood there stunned for two seconds, watching Lei Long's figure disappear through the doorway.

He suddenly came to his senses, though his mind was filled with questions and unease.

But at this moment, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and hurriedly jog after them.

My heart was filled with confusion and unease.

He had absolutely no idea what "success" meant in Rayron's words.

They had no idea what kind of situation awaited them.

Back in the luxurious private room at the Yabo Hotel, the warm yellow lights and the aroma of exquisite dishes still filled the air.

But Nursi felt a chill run down his spine.

He saw the eldest prince, Orlando, sitting calmly in the main seat, even leisurely picking up a piece of the newly served jade shrimp with his chopsticks.

The familiar eyebrows and eyes, the exact same face, everything was exactly the same as it had been a moment ago, yet Nursi's heart began to pound wildly.

An inexplicable chill ran from the soles of my feet to the top of my head.

He suppressed the turmoil in his heart, put on his usual obsequious smile, stepped forward half a step and bowed, saying:
"Your Highness, please forgive me. My stomach suddenly felt a little uncomfortable just now, which caused the delay. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting..."

Before he could finish speaking, Orlando gently put down his ivory chopsticks and raised his hand to interrupt him.

Those blue eyes, which always exuded majesty, now shimmered with an indescribable, eerie light, and a playful smile, completely unlike that of a prince, curved at the corners of his lips.
"Alright, that's enough, you don't need to act anymore."

His voice was still that of the eldest prince, clear and melodious, but his tone carried a chilling, inhuman quality, and his words sent shivers down Nursi's spine:

"Your true prince has long since returned to the embrace of the gods!"

Nursi suddenly took half a step back, his face instantly turning ashen, and his fingers began to tremble uncontrollably.

Every subtle expression on "Orlando's" face was eerily familiar, yet his eyes held an unfathomable darkness.

The undisguised cruelty in his words made his blood almost freeze.

Nursi's voice was dry and trembling, and he almost squeezed out the words through clenched teeth:
"You...who are you?"

Orlando let out a low, hoarse laugh upon hearing this, sending chills down everyone's spine.

He leisurely wiped his mouth with a napkin before slowly raising his eyelids, a dark red glint seemingly flashing in the depths of his pupils.

He spoke slowly and deliberately:

"I'm not a human being. Since you're already a member of the Military Intelligence Bureau, you can call me Director."

"Yes, I, Akdemon, am currently the Deputy Director of the Military Intelligence Bureau's Operations Division!"

……

Southeast of Emerald Harbour, in international waters.

The leaden sky hung low, merging with the inky blue sea into a blurry expanse on the distant horizon.

The salty sea breeze, carrying fine moisture, swept across the towering bridge of the HMS Royal Lion.

Charles Cromwell, the second prince of the Kingdom of Ceylon, stood motionless at the porthole.

He was dressed in a crisp naval officer's uniform, his gold sash perfectly in place, but the knuckles of his fingers, gripping the brass-rimmed monocular scope tightly, were slightly white from excessive force.

He put down the magical telescope again, and the intricate runes on the telescope tube dimmed.

On the other side of the lens, the vast sea remained lifeless, with no sails or smoke visible except for the monotonous undulating waves.

Prince Charles raised his wrist and glanced at his watch; there were less than ten minutes left until the appointed time.

A hint of barely concealed anxiety crept onto his brow.

He subconsciously pursed his lips, his gaze sweeping darkly across the vast, empty sea outside the window.

King Gaius's earnest expectations, the courtiers eagerly awaiting their arrival in the capital city of Quisahon, and the six saints already in place, ready to deliver a fatal blow to the Effines...

All the pressure was weighing heavily on his shoulders at that moment.

The most crucial element of this meticulously planned raid was to rendezvous with the "Crimson Raiders" fleet and, with the help of Pirate King Yann Hughes.

A thunderous blow was dealt to Emerald Harbour from the sea.

However, the Allied forces have now vanished without a trace.

"Your Highness!"

A reassuring voice sounded beside him.

It was his personal secretary, Marin Paxson.

The always impeccably dressed and cautious young man leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice to comfort her:
"The seas are ever-changing, and it's normal that the 'Crimson Raiders' fleet might encounter some delays during its voyage."

Please don't be too impatient.

Prince Charles did not turn around, but let out a muffled groan, revealing his inner anxiety.

Marin observed the prince's expression and cautiously suggested:
"Perhaps... we can first send a few light patrol boats to conduct some reconnaissance in the waters ahead."

In case their delay is merely due to some unforeseen event, we can provide timely support to avoid missing the opportune moment for His Majesty's planned general offensive.

Prince Charles remained silent, his gaze once again fixed on the empty sea, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the cold frame of the porthole.

Anxiety, doubt, and a sense of foreboding intertwined and spread in his mind.

Time was ticking away, but the anticipated Allied forces were still nowhere to be found.

The sea and sky blended into one, the stillness unsettling, like the suffocating silence before a storm.

Finally, Prince Charles sighed wearily and helplessly, as if he were about to expel all the anxiety that had been building up in his chest.

The proposal from Secretary Marin was accepted.

He reached into his robes and took out his personal warrant, which represented the highest command authority of the fleet. He was about to summon his adjutant, who was standing not far away, and order him to dispatch several high-speed patrol boats to conduct reconnaissance.

However, Admiral Gaston Davenport, the Vice Commander of the Navy who had been silently observing the situation, suddenly stepped forward at that moment.

He spoke in a deep voice:
"Your Highness, this is a matter of great importance. The authenticity of the intelligence directly affects the safety of the entire army."

Sending ordinary officers would likely be insufficient to handle unforeseen circumstances.

"I'll lead the team myself to investigate. I have a lot of experience dealing with the Crimson Raiders, and it will be easier for me to communicate with them."

Charles was taken aback upon hearing this, and looked at the veteran known for his composure with slight surprise.

After a brief moment of surprise, a complex light flashed in his eyes—a mixture of emotion and a sense of grasping at a straw.

Without much hesitation, he solemnly handed the warrant to Gaston, his tone carrying a heavy sense of entrustment:

"When a nation is in peril, it longs for a good general; this saying is indeed true. At such a critical moment, it is a blessing for the kingdom to have a pillar like a general willing to step forward."

"Then I'll trouble you, General, to make this trip yourself. Please be extremely careful."

From an angle that Charles couldn't see, Secretary Marin Paxson gave Gaston a very subtle look.

The latter nodded almost imperceptibly, everything understood without words.

Gaston took the order, gave a crisp military salute, and then strode away from the bridge of the HMS Royal Lion.

The figure quickly disappeared at the end of the passage leading to the gangway.

Watching Gaston's figure disappear at the top of the gangway, Marin took another half step forward, his voice still maintaining just the right amount of respect and concern:

"Your Highness, the wind and waves are high on the bridge. You have been waiting here for quite some time."

With a major battle looming, you need to conserve your energy so you can make crucial decisions at critical moments.

Perhaps we should go back to our cabins to rest and recharge.

I will remain here, closely monitoring the sea. If I detect anything unusual, or if General Gaston sends a message, I will report to you immediately.

His words were incredibly considerate, as if he were entirely thinking about the prince's health and the upcoming battle.

The sea breeze swept across the bridge, causing the hem of Prince Charles's formal attire to flutter.

Marin's reminder did indeed bring a wave of deep fatigue to Charles, who had been under constant tension.

The pressure of the past few days and the waiting at this moment have exhausted his energy.

He rubbed his throbbing temples, said nothing more, just nodded somewhat heavily, and turned around surrounded by his guards.

We walked down the gangway to the quieter and more comfortable cabins below, ready to rest for a while.

However, shortly after Charles disappeared from the bridge.

The once orderly formation of this massive fleet began to undergo a series of subtle changes that were difficult to detect but clearly targeted.

The captains of several key battleships were either from the Davenport family or were former subordinates of Commander Gaston Davenport.

At this moment, it seemed to receive some kind of silent instruction and began to adjust its course and position according to a precise plan.

They moved their massive hulls silently, cleverly forming a fan-shaped encirclement that was not easily missed, quietly surrounding the heart of the fleet—the flagship "HMS Royal Lion"—at its center.

This change naturally caught the attention of other ships in the vicinity.

The captains of the escort ships, who were originally responsible for providing close protection to the flagship, all showed a hint of doubt and astonishment on their faces after observing this unusual change in formation.

They instinctively sensed danger, and alarm bells rang in their minds.

This deployment method, which places the flagship at the core and is almost "confined," appears highly unusual, especially since it occurred before the war rather than during the war.

However, when they tried to inquire through the communication crystal, the replies they received were uniform and forceful.

This is a normal tactical adjustment carried out on the orders of Deputy Commander General Gaston Davenport, carrying a handwritten order from His Highness the Second Prince. There is no need to overreact.

Despite his many questions and worries, he was faced with direct orders from one of the highest command levels and a prince's personal command.

The captains could only suppress their unease and follow orders to move their ships away from the HMS Royal Lion.

Among the frigates that were reassigned, Captain Ryan of the USS Seal felt the impact most strongly.

He was not part of the Davenport faction, but rather a true confidant of Prince Charles, whom he personally cultivated.

He watched as the friendly ships that had surrounded the flagship were replaced one by one with warships that were clearly under Gaston's direct control.

A tight encirclement was forming before his eyes, and a chill ran down his spine.

This was by no means a normal tactical deployment; the feeling of being isolated and targeted gave him an extremely ominous premonition.

It was as if an invisible net was being silently cast upon the unsuspecting second prince.

He gripped the helm tightly, his knuckles turning white, his sharp gaze sweeping over the shifting formation around him.

He quickly considered whether he should go to the flagship in person to ask Prince Charles directly.

As Captain Ryan watched the last familiar frigate being moved from its original protective position, his unease reached its peak.

Without further hesitation, he stomped on the deck, his body soaring into the air, flying straight towards the flagship "Royal Lion".

The sea breeze whistled past his ears, his heart pounded, and an instinctive premonition made him want to see Prince Charles immediately.

Reveal the entire anomaly before your eyes.

He landed effortlessly on the spacious flight deck of HMS Royal Lion, ignoring the slightly surprised looks from the sailors around him.

I quickly walked through the familiar passageway and headed straight for the prince's rest cabin located below the bridge.

However, just as he was about to reach the familiar oak-inlaid copper cabin door, a figure appeared at the exact corner of the corridor, blocking his way.

It was Marin Paxson's secretary.

He was still wearing his crisp black secretary uniform, with his usual gentle smile on his face, as if he were just passing by.

As one of the second prince's closest secretaries, he naturally recognized Captain Ryan, who had come from the royal palace.

Seeing Ryan's hurried steps and anxious expression, a subtle glint flashed in Marin's eyes, and he already knew the other party's intentions.

He took a half-step forward subtly, blocking the path to the cabin at just the right moment, while deliberately lowering his voice:
"Captain Ryan?"
Why are you in such a hurry? Is there some urgent military business?

He tilted his head slightly, gesturing towards the tightly closed hatch behind him:

"Your Highness has just rested. He has been working hard for days and it was only with great difficulty that he was able to close his eyes."

Unless it's something extremely urgent, I think it's best not to disturb His Highness's rest for now.

Ryan trusted his secretary, who had been by the prince's side for many years and handled all his affairs.

Seeing that it was him, my tense nerves relaxed a little.

The prince's secretary is still out there unharmed, so it seems I was probably overthinking things.

However, the doubts in my heart still need to be clarified.

He frowned, lowered his voice, and asked urgently:
"Secretary Marin, it's perfect that you're here."

I just discovered that Commander Gaston suddenly ordered all of our ships, which were originally escorting the flagship, to be moved to the outer perimeter.

Is this...is this really an order personally given by His Highness?
The formation change is a bit... a bit strange!

Upon hearing this, Marin's smile remained unchanged; instead, he chuckled softly.

The laughter even carried a subtle, almost imperceptible, hint of criticism.

"Captain Ryan, you've really changed since you went out and stood on your own. Being a captain has definitely made a difference."

His gaze seemingly casually swept over the captain's epaulets on Ryan's shoulders, his tone gentle, yet every word carried weight:

"They even dare to question the troop redeployment order personally issued by the deputy commander with His Highness's edict in hand?"
This is no longer the rule I followed when I worked at the Prince's residence.

Ryan's face paled slightly.

Marin's words, seemingly joking, actually pointed out his status as a former subordinate and the transgression of questioning orders from his superiors at this moment.

He quickly lowered his head, a barely perceptible hint of panic in his voice:

"I dare not!
"I just felt a little uneasy about the sudden change in formation, fearing there might have been some oversight. I wanted to ask Your Highness for confirmation, just to put my mind at ease."

His gaze tried to pass over Marin and look at the tightly closed hatch.

The doubts in my heart were made even more confused by the other party's words, which were both soft and hard.

Secretary Marin waved his hand dismissively, his face still bearing that reassuringly calm expression.

He explained in a calm tone:

"Captain Ryan, you're overthinking it."

This is precisely Your Highness's profound meaning.

His Highness believes that you, his close captains whom he personally trained, are the future pillars of the fleet and need more experience.

Now is a perfect opportunity for you to go to the outskirts, observe up close, and even fight alongside the elusive ghost ships of the 'Crimson Raiders', and learn their naval warfare skills.

This is His Highness's special cultivation of you, so please don't let him down.

"Execute the order and prepare to support the Allied forces!"

Hearing this definite explanation from the second prince's trusted confidant, and with such compelling reasons—it reflected both the prince's trust and the future growth of the individual and the fleet—was incredibly satisfying.

The last vestige of doubt in Captain Ryan's mind vanished instantly.

A hint of shame and gratitude even appeared on his face, and he quickly bowed and said:

"I see!
It is because I am foolish and have failed to understand Your Highness's profound thoughts and plans.

I will return immediately and strictly follow your orders. I will never dare to fail Your Highness's expectations!

After saying that, he turned and walked away quickly, his heart no longer troubled, only thinking about how to better complete this "learning task".

After Ryan left, the massive Ceylon naval fleet returned to a state of apparent calm.

The warship, like a silent behemoth, gently rose and fell on the rippling sea, awaiting the unknown next command.

Time passed second by second, and the sea and sky were deathly silent, like the suffocating calm before a storm.

However, this eerie calm did not last long.

Suddenly, a deafening roar erupted, like a thunderclap in a clear sky, shattering the silence of the sea.

Boom——!
A burst of intense flames erupted on the side of a battleship on the flank of the fleet, sending a massive column of water soaring into the sky.

The moment the cannon shot rang out, Prince Charles, who had just fallen asleep in his cabin, was caught in the blast.

He is haunted by a nightmare about his fleet being engulfed in flames.

The sound of cannon fire overlapped instantly with the explosion in his dream, jolting him awake.

His heart was pounding, and he almost sat up in bed, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

However, before he could fully regain his senses and discern whether the sound was a dream or an illusion, the continuous, dense roar of artillery fire entered his ears in a truly real way.

Interspersed among these were piercing alarms and faint shouts coming from afar.

"what happened?!"

Prince Charles was both shocked and furious. Before he could finish speaking, the door to his cabin was violently shoved open.

Several high-ranking officers, led by the flagship captain, rushed in looking flustered and even somewhat terrified.

They disregarded all etiquette, and one of them, his voice trembling, urgently reported:
Your Highness!
Something terrible is happening!

We...we're surrounded!"

Prince Charles was jolted, as if struck by lightning, and he roared in fury:
"who?

Who exactly is attacking us?
Who dares to surround the kingdom's fleet!

The high-ranking generals looked ashen-faced, their fingers trembling as they pointed out the window, their lips quivering as they couldn't utter a complete sentence.

He shoved aside the general who was trying to help him and staggered to the porthole.

Charles looked in the direction they were pointing, and the scene before him plunged him into an icy abyss; his heart nearly stopped beating. (End of Chapter)