Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Xilun looked at him for a while.

Karls' palms were slightly sweaty.

Less than half a year has passed.

The Ronte family didn't have many options left.

If Xilun refuses, they will likely only be able to accept the continued decline of their family after returning to Prison Star Island.

A small trading firm that loses its place of gathering demons will not die immediately, but will rot on the bed like a person whose bones have been removed.

Finally, Xilun spoke.

"Can."

Karls paused for a moment, then visibly relaxed.

That sigh felt like a stone that had been pressing on his chest for years was finally lifted, almost causing him to lose his composure.

He quickly composed himself and solemnly extended his right hand.

"The Ronter family will not forget today's kindness, Mr. Celen."

Xilen shook hands with him.

Karls's hands were a little hot from excitement.

Xilun's hands were as cold as iron in the night sea.

The young guard beside him couldn't hide his joy, and the older guard whispered something like thanking the sea god.

Although they don't yet know just how strong Xiren is, the fact that someone can easily kill the Water Ghost is enough to give the Langte family more hope in their assessment.

The captain arrived quickly.

Upon learning that the water ghost had been dealt with, he immediately became much more polite to Xilun, and even offered to have the ship's slaughterhouse help dismantle the body.

Xiren didn't ask for the materials; he only allowed Kars to receive them.

Carls did not refuse and immediately arranged for the body to be removed to prevent the stench from affecting the deck.

The crowd gradually dispersed.

The night wind regained control of the deck.

Siren and Karls stood side by side by the railing, gazing at the dark sea outside the ship.

Karls was clearly still reeling from the recent turn of events. After a moment, he seemed to remember something and whispered, "Mr. Siren, since you're going to the Prisoner Islands, there are two things you absolutely need to know."

"explain."

"The Sea of ​​Chaos has two great wonders, or rather, two great calamities."

Xilun looked at him.

Karls looked grave.

"The first is the ocean tide."

A wave surged into the hull of the ship in the distance, and white foam burst open.

Carls lowered his voice.

"It's not a normal high tide, but a marine mammal tide."

Countless sea creatures surged out of the deep sea, as if the entire ocean had come alive.

At that time, endless storms, tsunamis, and giant beasts will appear together.

No single extraordinary being could resist it, and even a fourth-tier being wouldn't dare say they could survive the direct impact of the tidal wave.

If a small island isn't evacuated in time, it could be hollowed out, smashed, and submerged overnight.

Xiren recalled the destruction of the main fleet that the Ront family had encountered more than a decade ago.

"And the second one?"

"Black Storm".

When Karls uttered the word, he himself subconsciously glanced at the distant night sky.

"It was a wind like black fog, without a fixed direction or season, sweeping across like a riot."

The area is usually small, sometimes covering only a single shipping route, and sometimes swallowing only half an island.

Whether sea monsters or extraordinary beings, those caught in it will perish completely.

"Dead?"

"have no idea."

Karls shook his head.

Some say he died, some say he went somewhere else, and some say he was blown to the sea of ​​the old era.

In short, no one can be sure, because none of the people who went in came back alive.

Xilun listened quietly.

Ocean tide.

Black storm.

The Chaotic Sea was more dangerous than he had imagined.

But it's also more suitable for hiding.

The high walls and archives of Victoria can trace a person's name, but the storms and waves of the chaotic sea can swallow up too many traces.

As long as he establishes himself here, slowly cultivates the Storm Bloodline, hunts sea beasts to acquire talents, and searches for the path beyond the third tier, he will eventually be able to return.

Fowles.

The Black Death Cult.

And then there are those who wrote Lund's death into a respectable record.

A faint hint of coldness flashed across Xilun's eyes.

Karls was oblivious and continued to explain the details of the assessment to him.

The assessment took place at a location called the Gray Ring Arena outside Prisoner Star Island, and was jointly supervised by several large neutral chambers of commerce and the island guards.

The Ronter family has very low goals.

Preserve a small, demon-gathering place called "Emerald Lake".

The demonic energy there isn't particularly strong, but it's close to a cold current, making it suitable for those with extraordinary bloodlines, such as those with cold, water-based, or sea beast bloodlines, to cultivate.

For Xilun, it is more suitable than ordinary places.

"Is Emerald Lake still in your hands?" Siren asked.

Carls gave a wry smile: "It's still there in name, but if this evaluation fails, it will be transferred to someone else."

"Who is most likely to steal it?"

"The Silver Church, and the family, both have second-tier worshippers."

Xilun nodded.

He noted down these names for the time being, but didn't pay much attention to them.

Looking at his expression, Karls felt inexplicably at ease.

A person who remains so calm upon hearing of the Second-Rank Offering is either insane or truly confident.

Xilun, however, clearly doesn't seem like a madman.

At least he doesn't seem like an ordinary madman.

The night was deeper.

The two returned to the cabin restaurant and, under the dim light, drafted a simple contract.

The formal contract would have to be stamped by a local witness after arriving at Prison Star Island, but making a verbal and written agreement at sea first could put both parties at ease.

Karls' fingers were steady as he signed, but he let out a long sigh after he finished.

"Mr. Celen, to be honest, I originally thought I was going to go home empty-handed again."

Xilun put away the copy of the contract.

"I also need a place to stay."

Karls paused for a moment, then laughed and said, "It seems the sea breeze blew us to the same table."

Xilun didn't laugh; he simply picked up the cold tea and took a sip.

The bitter taste spreads across the tip of the tongue.

He didn't dislike the smell.

It was already past midnight when we returned to cabin number seventeen.

Xilun locked the door, put the contract into the compartment of the suitcase, and sat back down on the bed.

The ship was still rocking, and the sound of the waves kept hitting my eardrums.

The newly acquired Water Ghost talent was settling within his body, making his perception of deep water a little clearer.

This is a good start.

Tiny, yet real.

He closed his eyes and activated the Profound Yin Breathing Technique, the chill slowly pressing down on the cracks.

The black aura lingered unwillingly deep within the wound, but was temporarily forced back to its original position.

The Prisoner Islands have not yet been reached.

But the first rock that could be used as a foothold has already appeared ahead.

Siren breathed quietly in the darkness.

The Tulip continued its journey into the depths of the chaotic sea, its bow cleaving through the night waves. On the distant horizon, a shadow, darker than the night itself, loomed, like an archipelago or some kind of giant beast lurking on the sea.

……

The Tulip's decks rose and fell gently in the night tide, and the distant whispers of sailors drifted in intermittently, as if dampened by the mist.

The water ghost's corpse had already been taken away by Karls' men, and the blood on the deck had been washed away by the waves, as if nothing had happened.

But Xiren noticed that everyone's gaze had changed.

He was all too familiar with that gaze, a mixture of awe, probing, fear, and longing.

In Victoria, he fought his way up from a nobody in the lower city to Tier 3, all under the scrutiny of such eyes.

He closed the cabin door, bolted it shut, and checked the door seams and window edges again to make sure there were no hidden compartments or anything unusual before sitting down, leaning on the edge of the table.

As soon as I sat down, an uncontrollable itch welled up deep in my chest.

"cough……"

Xilun coughed lightly, looking down.

It felt like rough metal scraping through my lungs.

He opened his palm, and between his fingers were traces of dark blood, the blood color was impure, and the edges were faintly grayish-white, like cold meat contaminated by mold.

Xilun stared at it silently for a while, then wiped it away with a cloth.

He appeared relaxed when he went into the water to kill the water ghost, but in reality, he only used the portion of his power that he could safely mobilize.

If it were when he had just advanced to the third rank, the mere release of cold energy would have been enough to freeze that water ghost into a stiff piece of flesh underwater, without requiring any extra effort.

But things are different now.

It felt like three rivers were colliding inside him.

The chilling aura was like a cold, deep underground river, flowing along the seams of bones and blood vessels, barely keeping the wound from reopening.

The stitching force left by the evil god's severed limbs was like rotten black iron wire, weaving through the flesh and blood, sometimes helping to close the wounds, and sometimes trying to sew his body into another strange thing.

As for the Stormbloodline, it is even more obscure.

It is hidden in the ebb and flow of the tide and the rhythm of a heartbeat, like thunder yet to fall in the distant clouds.

The three are not truly unified; they are merely held in a precarious balance by the black feathers left behind by Lady Black Crow.

Xilun exhaled softly, his chest rising and falling slowly, his face appearing exceptionally pale in the dim light of the kerosene lamp.

"It's not a complete Tier 3 yet."

He muttered to himself.

To outsiders, his ability to ride the waves, exude a chilling aura that summons water ghosts, and casually crush a sea beast nearing the peak of the first tier was already considered formidable.

But only he himself knew that his body was far from fully recovered.

Every time you go all out, your injuries will be aggravated.

If he were to encounter a truly formidable Tier 3 enemy, or a Tier 4 demon hunter like Fowles, he might not be able to survive to the end by fighting tooth and nail as he used to.

He will need to recuperate for a long time afterward.

It's not the kind of recuperation that can be achieved simply by sleeping for a few days and drinking a few bottles of medicine. Instead, it requires reorganizing the body, rediscovering one's strength, and piecing the broken bones and rules back together.

Xilun took a pale blue vial from the suitcase and uncorked it.

The liquid felt slightly cool upon entering the throat, with a hint of the bitterness characteristic of herbs.

It travels down the esophagus into the stomach, quickly transforming into a gentle warmth. However, before it can spread far, it is intercepted by the chill in the bones, becoming sluggish and slow.

He didn't rush to sleep, but instead sat cross-legged on the narrow bed.

The cabin was small, the beds were narrow, and the walls swayed slightly with the ship.

The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered, casting dappled shadows on the wooden board.

The sound of the sea lapping against the hull was layered upon layered, like someone beating a drum in the dark.

Xiren closed his eyes and began a deep meditation.

This meditation method was left behind by Susie.

When he first obtained it, he felt it was very special. Unlike crude methods that simply cultivate the mind, it was more like a thin and clear stream that could slowly allow one's consciousness to sink away from chaos, pain, and anxiety.

Now, when I use it again, the effects are even more pronounced.

My breathing gradually became lighter.

The cabin, the sea breeze, the wooden planks, the lights—all faded into the distance in my perception.

It felt as if a gentle hand was stroking my body, my tense nerves gradually relaxed, and the cracks deep within my spirit no longer stung as much as before.

The chill brought by the Xuan Yin breathing technique should have been extreme and sharp, but under the guidance of meditation, it gradually became natural, like frost that should fall on a winter night.

Xilun felt as if he were sitting on a vast, empty sea.

The sky was low, the sea was deep, and his body was so light that he almost disappeared.

With each breath, energy slowly circulates along the meridians, causing a slight tingling sensation in the damaged lungs and ribs.

That was the reaction resulting from the combined effects of the medicine, the chill, and the evil god's stitching power.

But soon, Xilun noticed something was amiss.

Deep in the right arm, in a crevice near the heart in the chest cavity, something black moved slightly.

very weak.

Like a sleeping snake turning over.

If his mind had not become extremely empty and still through meditation, he would have hardly been able to detect this subtle change.

The power of the severed limbs of an evil god.

It did not ooze out as frantically as it had when it was near death, nor did it actively corrode his flesh.

It had been lying dormant, but the moment its energy and blood recovered, it seemed to instinctively want to awaken as well.

Xilun did not immediately suppress it.

He quietly "watched" it.

That wisp of black energy coiled deep within the flesh and blood, like a strange root that did not belong to the human body.

It was connected to his wounds, to the gaps in his bones, and to the cracks left by that divine battle.

The words of Lady Black Crow echoed in my ears once more.

—You must control it and wield the power of the evil god, otherwise you will be controlled by it sooner or later.

Power and authority.

Xilun silently repeated the word in his mind.

He had seen similar descriptions in old Link family records.

The seven dukes hold divine revelation and the inheritance of authority, while the Storm Duke wields storms and turmoil, gaining power amidst chaos and the breakdown of order.

If the power of a legitimate duke can be called authority, then does the contamination left by the remains of an evil god also have some corresponding authority?

plague?

decay?

Suture?

Or is it a life that continues in a deformed form amidst death?

Xilun's situation cannot be determined.

Right now, he feels like he's picked up a rusty and poisonous knife.

The blade was very sharp, and had even saved his life when he was on the verge of death, but the longer he held it, the deeper his palm was cut.

To truly use it, one must know who the knife originally belonged to and what rules it followed.

"The Sea of ​​Chaos..."

Siren slowly fell into deep thought during meditation.

Lady Black Crow sent him here not just to escape the storms of Victoria.

Here, order is loose, extraordinary knowledge flows freely, sea monsters and exotic species abound, and a wealth of ancient ruins and lost traditions are hidden.

If there is anywhere in the world that can give him answers about authority, the Sea of ​​Chaos is undoubtedly more likely than Lower Victoria.

And the bloodline of the Duke of Storms.

Whenever the boat is lifted up and then submerged by the waves, he can feel the pulse of the seawater more clearly than others.

It wasn't just a natural talent for water management; it was like there was something in his blood responding to the sea.

Xiren did not rush to let his emotions run wild.

He was no longer the child who huddled and shivered in the rainy night, warming himself only with hatred.

The Tusol family, the forces behind the Black Death Cult, Fowles, the Daewoo Dojo, and those who paint a rosy picture in the White Stone Hall...

The blood debts are still there.

He's just not strong enough yet.

If you're not strong enough, just survive.

Live to the day you can go back and settle accounts.

The meditation lasted for a long time.

Only when the flame of the kerosene lamp grew weak and the sound of footsteps of the changing sailors came from outside the cabin did Siron slowly open his eyes.

My spirits have recovered somewhat.

The tightness and pain in my chest were also reduced considerably.