Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 116 Crossing the Siren's Anvil, Lurking Under the Bottom of the Pirate Ship

Xilun remained unmoved; his emotions were as cold and hard as ancient ice.

He swam forward silently, avoiding one anti-submarine net after another.

Soon, something even more dangerous appeared.

Those heavy iron chains hanging in the undercurrent, swaying irregularly with the waves.

These chains are covered with long, extremely sharp barbs.

Driven by the rapids, they resembled countless tentacles of death wielding scythes.

When traversing the strait, Siren must control every muscle in his body with extreme precision.

Once, a sudden, strong underwater current violently pushed him to the right.

Half a meter to his right, there was a thick iron chain covered with rust and barbs lying horizontally.

Xilun's eyes sharpened. Instead of trying to resist the enormous natural water force, he twisted his waist to follow the momentum.

The spine exerted force like a great dragon, and the explosive power of the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" was fully displayed at this moment.

His body inexplicably folded into a sharp angle in the water, narrowly gliding past the row of sharp barbs. The barbs were less than a millimeter away from the surface of his sharkskin wetsuit.

If he had reacted even half a breath slower, his skin would have been cut without a doubt.

At this depth, even a tiny sliver of blood would not only shatter his swimming disguise but also attract the attention of those deep-sea monsters that would instantly tear him to shreds.

As time went on, Xilun's spirit was gradually worn down by the intense stress.

In order to maintain his body temperature, resist the water pressure, and perform his movement techniques, he also consumed some of his internal energy.

The so-called magical "swimming talent" is not a perpetual motion machine.

This meager ventilation is barely enough to sustain survival, but it cannot compensate for the huge oxygen deficit caused by strenuous exercise.

A dull, stabbing pain began to emanate from his chest; it was his lungs protesting.

In this desolate abyss, he could not feel the passage of time, nor could he sense any changes in the weather on the sea.

There is no sunrise or sunset here, no sound of wind or rain.

He could only feel boundless silence, a bone-chilling cold, and a profound sense of loneliness as if he had been abandoned by the entire world.

But he couldn't stop; the images of Wall's humiliation, Mark's grief, and the tragic death of the young harpooner, Keane, kept replaying in his mind.

He must become stronger, and this operation is a step he must take on this brutal path.

Xilun gritted his teeth, like a tireless machine, continuing to silently paddle forward through this dark web of death.

Every inch of that ten nautical miles was fraught with danger.

I don't know how long I swam in the cold, dark seabed; maybe two hours, maybe four hours.

Xilun's originally steady and powerful strokes began to become slightly heavy.

Although the sharkskin diving suit greatly retained body heat, the extreme cold still slowly and cruelly stole his heat through every fiber.

The oxygen supply provided by his swimming talent was gradually becoming insufficient during this long, high-pressure underwater voyage, and he even began to experience a slight dizziness caused by lack of oxygen.

Just then, the surrounding water environment suddenly changed drastically.

The once calm deep currents became turbulent and chaotic, as if countless invisible water blades were cutting through everything.

Xilun gradually felt that the surroundings were no longer empty seawater. Through the feedback of the water waves, he sensed that a large and complex group of reefs had appeared in front of him.

These reefs, like towering trees growing from the seabed, or perhaps like the fangs of a demon, interlock and block the only path to the inner port of the Sirens' Anvil.

Siren didn't take a detour because he knew that any deviation from the course could lead him astray in this deadly sea.

He continued swimming forward, like a loach weaving through thorns.

The reef surface was covered with sharp barnacles and poisonous corals, and he had to push his eyesight and senses to the limit to navigate the narrow, swirling crevices between the rocks.

On one occasion, his shoulder slammed hard against a protruding reef.

Even with the Iron Wall Breathing Technique protecting his body like copper and iron, the enormous impact still caused him to groan, and excruciating pain instantly spread from his left shoulder.

He resisted the urge to exhale, instead covering his shoulder with his right hand and using the propulsion of the water to continue gliding forward.

During the extremely mentally taxing underwater adventure, in order to avoid falling into a coma due to boredom and lack of oxygen, Xilun's brain began to frantically think about the next course of action.

Once we successfully land, how do we kill the first mate guarding the pirate ship?

Xilun was mentally rehearsing tactical scenarios.

According to Cook, the other party was a senior Tier 1 Extraordinary who had completed baptism four years ago.

After four years of honing his Qi and blood, even if the opponent only practices a common breathing technique, the Qi reserves in his body should not be underestimated.

Moreover, the opponent is proficient in a ruthless leg-based fighting technique.

In land battles, the leg techniques' attack range and explosive power often allow them to completely suppress the Dark Claw Kung Fu, which focuses on close-quarters combat and tearing.

Is there any chance in a head-on confrontation?

Xilun shook his head inwardly. After the hellish ten-nautical-mile voyage, his physical strength and energy were at most only 60% of their peak.

If I were to engage in a direct positional battle on the deck after landing, facing the well-rested and energetic first mate, I would definitely be overwhelmed by his storm of leg techniques.

Moreover, there are other pirates and musketeers on the island, and if the battle becomes deadlocked and the alarm sounds, he will be worn down and killed on the ship.

So, what about using shadows to carry out a roundabout assassination?

That's also unrealistic.

Those who are baptized have extremely keen intuition, especially pirate leaders who have risked their lives for others; their perception of danger is far beyond that of ordinary people.

On a narrow boat filled with the creaking of wooden planks, it would be extremely difficult to completely conceal one's presence and approach a seasoned extraordinary individual. If one missed a single strike, one would be put on the defensive.

Siren deftly rolled underwater, dodging a powerful jet of water crashing down from above. His eyes gleamed coldly in the darkness.

The best, and only, way to reverse the disadvantage is to do everything possible to drag the other side underwater!

Water is West Africa's greatest asset.

He coldly calculated in his heart: as long as he could drag that first mate into this icy, deep water, the balance of power would be instantly reversed.

He possesses swimming talent and the Giant Whale Guiding Technique, making him feel as if he's back in the womb underwater. Not only is he free from the burden of holding his breath, but the water pressure also helps the Guiding Technique unleash even greater power, potentially boosting his strength.

On the other hand, the other side was a pirate who practiced leg techniques on land.

Leg techniques are the most disadvantageous fighting style underwater because the enormous resistance of the water completely negates the explosive power and speed of leg kicks.

Even more fatal is that the opponent has no swimming talent. Once they fall into the water, the extreme fear, the frigid water temperature, and the limit of breath-holding will severely hinder them, greatly reducing their strength. They probably won't even be able to perform at half their usual level.

Moreover, the most important point about moving the battlefield underwater is that it can completely deprive the enemy of the advantage of being surrounded by a large number of people, as well as the advantage of those deadly musket shots.

Underwater, it was a pure, one-on-one struggle between wild beasts.

"What a pity—" Xilun sighed silently in his heart.

As an experienced pirate, no matter how arrogant he is, he probably wouldn't easily leave the sturdy deck, much less voluntarily jump into the dangerous deep sea to give himself this opportunity.

How to lure the enemy close to the water, or even into the water, will be the key to the success or failure of this decapitation operation.

As Xilun pondered, the surrounding water began to calm down slightly. The dense network of hidden reefs ahead was no longer in sight.

Through the murky seawater, he suddenly spotted a blurry, enormous shadow in the distance, so large it was suffocating.

The shadow, like an ancient behemoth lurking on the sea, remained silently there, completely obscuring the pale moonlight overhead.

Xilun seemed to be deep in thought. He knew that this life-or-death journey of ten nautical miles had finally come to an end.

He moved closer slowly, like a silent, venomous snake.

As he got closer, his baptized eyesight finally began to make out the true nature of the shadow.

It was an extremely large, heavy three-gun wooden sailing ship, even wider than Lord Wall's armed merchant ship.

The ship's hull was covered with thick iron plates, covered with scratches and dried bloodstains from battle. The gun ports were tightly closed, exuding an aura of grimness and wildness.

This is the warship that the Grey Hemp pirates used to guard the gate of the inner port, and it was also the first mate's ship.

"Finally here," Xiren murmured to himself.

The consciousness, which had been somewhat scattered due to fatigue, suddenly became as taut as a fully drawn bow.

The body's Qi and blood begin to circulate rapidly, ready to unleash a fatal blow at any moment.

Like a weightless shadow, he clung to the rough hull covered in seaweed and barnacles, slowly rising from the deep water.

He controlled his ascent speed with extreme precision, preventing any abnormal ripples from forming on the water's surface.

Ultimately, he suspended his body about one or two meters below the surface of the sea.

This depth ensured that he could remain completely hidden in the black seawater without being detected, while allowing external sounds to penetrate the not-so-thick water layer and reach his ears.

As the depth decreased, the underwater stillness was finally broken.

As Xilun heard some sounds coming from the upper deck, he gradually began to hear them.

At first it was a blurry noise, but it quickly became clear.

That was the sound of a large group of pirates drinking and celebrating without restraint.

"Cheers! To Scarface!" A rough, hoarse voice laughed loudly, accompanied by the sound of wooden glasses clashing violently and the dripping of cheap rum on the deck.

"Hahaha, those idiots from the Brotherhood are probably still cowering in the open sea like turtles, too scared to come in!"

"Those few dilapidated ships of theirs, if they dare get near the anti-submarine net, I'll blast their balls out with cannons!"

Another shrill voice echoed wildly.

"That's right! The first mate was brilliant to have us guard this only entrance. As long as we're blocking this ship, those noble lords in the upper city won't be able to cut off our source of income!"

From those fragmented, wild conversations, Xiren sensed something unusual.

These pirates were not a complete rabble; their first mate, who was guarding the area, seemed to be a ruthless character who knew how to utilize the terrain and was well-versed in defensive tactics.

However, in Xiren's eyes, the group of people celebrating above him were nothing more than prey about to be torn apart by his dark claws.

He lay silently submerged a meter underwater, like a hunter waiting for his prey to reveal a fatal weakness.

Ripples gently spread around him, concealing his eyes, which were gradually turning cold with murderous intent.

It was cold and dark, as if it had isolated all living things from the world.

Xilun floated quietly two or three meters underwater, letting the murky gray water wash over his tight sharkskin diving suit.

He closed his eyes, silently breathing in the profound rhythms of the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique".

At this moment, he no longer needed to concentrate all his energy on dodging the barbed anti-submarine nets, nor did he need to fight against the terrifying water pressure in the deep sea that could crush a person's internal organs.

In this relatively calm, shallow water, he finally got a long-awaited chance to catch his breath.

As the Giant Whale of the Deep Sea guided the movement, the meager free energy contained in the surrounding seawater seeped into his body little by little through his powerful skin.

The muscle fibers that were sore and ruptured from the long-term high-intensity underwater voyage are slowly stitched up and remodeled under the nourishment of this warm and moist blood.

He could clearly feel his physical and mental strength climbing up from the dry valley floor at a speed visible to the naked eye.

While resting and recovering, allowing his body and mind to regain their vitality, his brain, like a sophisticated steam-powered computer, calmly conceived the decapitation operation that was about to unfold.

Water waves not only transmit cold, but also serve as an excellent medium.

Siren tilted his head slightly, raising his auditory senses to the limit of a first-order baptized being.

He could hear even the slightest sound of the wooden planks deforming under pressure on the huge wooden sailing ship flying the grey hemp pirate flag overhead.

On the deck just a few meters above his head, a dozen or so people were gathered together.

The sounds of rough porcelain bowls clattering, the smacking of large mouthfuls of roasted meat, and the pungent aroma of cheap rum spilled on the deck, all faintly reached Xilun's senses through the damp planks.

A huge brazier was burning brightly in the center of the deck. The pirates sat around the brazier, their faces flushed red from the strong liquor, filled with greed and arrogance.

As they clinked glasses, they would occasionally cast wary glances toward the bay entrance, which was completely blocked by thick fog in the distance.

"If any Brotherhood fleet dares to approach at this time, we'll make them taste the power of our cannons." A burly pirate took a big bite of his blood-dripping roasted meat and mumbled indistinctly.

Although the thick fog obstructed visibility, the Grey Hemp Pirates were clearly no ordinary people.

They deployed elite troops to guard the high points of the reefs along the route, and any ship that dared to forcibly enter that S-shaped channel...

A deadly flight path will immediately trigger a warning flare.

>