Translator: Cinder Translations
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The midnight sky was shrouded in heavy clouds, concealing the moon and stars. The entire Lion's Port was engulfed in darkness, except for the lighthouse at the docks, whose blazing fire provided guidance to ships in the distant waters.
A fleet, following the beacon's light, approached the harbor. The ever-vigilant port authority staff noticed the incoming ships and immediately dispatched a small boat for inspection.
As the small boat neared the leading vessel, the crew prepared to carry out standard checks. According to regulations, they needed to verify the ship's entry permit and get a general idea of its cargo. A more thorough inspection would follow after docking, including the assessment of taxes based on the goods' type and value.
"Jace! Is that you?" someone aboard the leading ship shouted down to the small boat.
"Martin, is that you?"
"Ha! It's me! I recognized you at a glance! My permit is still valid; you'll remember that!" the man on the ship called out cheerfully.
On the small boat, a colleague turned to Jace, the man being addressed. "Should we board and inspect?"
Jace shook his head. "No need. Martin is a regular here, and he's right—his permit is still valid. Let them dock. We'll inspect the cargo once they're ashore."
Guided by the port staff, the fleet of five large ships maneuvered into Lion's Port, the waves gently lapping against their hulls.
A contingent of personnel awaited on the docks, ready for the incoming inspection. Despite the valid permits, security protocols demanded thorough checks, especially during this tense and volatile period, when the port's defenses had been significantly heightened.
As the gangway thudded into place, connecting the ship to the dock, a port officer climbed aboard, lantern in hand.
"What's your cargo?" he called out, stepping onto the deck.
Before he could finish his inquiry, a flash of silver gleamed in the night. A blade struck him squarely in the abdomen, cutting off his words with a guttural grunt.
The dock crew had no time to react before the air was filled with the sharp twang of crossbows. Arrows rained down from the ship's deck, felling most of the dockworkers in seconds.
"We're under attack!" Those still alive screamed in panic, fleeing toward the shore while shouting at the top of their lungs.
The same scene unfolded across all five ships. Agile "crew members," armed with swords and spears, swarmed ashore under the cover of crossbow fire, swiftly securing control of the immediate area.
"Thank you, Mr. Martin," said a man cloaked in black aboard the lead ship.
Martin, a lean middle-aged man with sharp eyes that radiated cunning, forced a laugh. "Haha... It's my honor to assist Duke Giles."
The cloaked man nodded. "The Duke rewards those who serve him. You'll get the exclusive trading rights you desire."
Martin's expression, however, betrayed his mixed emotions. While he was pleased about the promised rewards, a trace of unease lingered.
Watching the armed men storm the docks, Martin murmured, "The port's defenses are tighter than ever. Are you confident this will work?"
The cloaked man smirked mockingly. "Do you even know what kind of army this is?"
"What?"
"They are called…" He paused, emphasizing the next words. "The Immortals!"
"The… Immortals? The legendary Immortal Army?" Martin's jaw dropped.
He had heard of Duke Giles' elite force—a unit famed for its ferocity and unyielding bravery in battle. Each soldier was said to possess superhuman strength and stamina, fighting tirelessly without food, water, or rest. What made the legends even more chilling was the claim that the army's numbers never changed, as if its members were indeed immortal.
That Duke Giles had sent such an elite force to seize Lion's Port signified how critical this mission was.
"They'll be too preoccupied defending against land threats to expect an attack from the sea," the cloaked man sneered. "Arrogance will be their downfall!"
"Still, the city is garrisoned by thousands of troops. We mustn't underestimate them," Martin cautioned.
"Then we'll create chaos!" The cloaked man raised an arm, chanting in an ominous tone.
Martin and the others on deck felt an unsettling energy emanating from the man's outstretched hand.
Suddenly, flames burst forth from his palm, lighting up the night. With a flick of his wrist, the fiery orb flew toward the shore, igniting a massive stack of wooden crates. In seconds, the blaze roared skyward, illuminating the surrounding area.
"I will engulf this city in flames!" the cloaked man declared, his laughter echoing ominously.
"Magic… a sorcerer!" Martin stammered in awe and terror. That Duke Giles had sorcerers under his command was another unsettling revelation, but it reinforced the mission's odds of success.
Just as Martin's confidence grew, a thunderous roar split the night.
A bright flash erupted to his left, followed by an ear-splitting explosion. Startled, everyone on the deck turned to the source of the commotion.
Illuminated by the flames was a colossal warship, its massive form resembling a floating fortress.
From this "sea fortress" came a relentless barrage of firepower. The ship had remained undetected in the dark, its crew now unleashing devastating cannon volleys on the invading fleet.
Martin and the cloaked man realized too late that they had anchored perilously close to the Alden Navy's "Sea Fortress", a legendary warship designed for such defensive engagements.
Within moments, the invaders found themselves under heavy fire, as alarm bells rang out across the port, signaling Lion's Port's defenders to action.
(End of the Chapter)
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