The Secret Code of Monsters

#743 - Ch742 Man-made natural disasters

Chapter 743: Man-Made Natural Disasters

Ten minutes ago.

A smaller sailboat was drifting with the current.

The man at the bow had a more muscular body than Fernandez, and his arms were wrapped in bandages with symbols of varying sizes left on them with dark green juice - symbols without edges.

Crawling at his feet was a giant light brown wolf that was nearly ten feet long.

He wore robes similar to Westwick's, but torn at the arms; his waist was made of animal skins, and on either side hung unsheathed scimitars that curved backwards.

The green-robed man behind him held his cloak, and another held an oil lamp.

"Lord Horn."

The green-robed man asked in a low voice:

"Mr. Westwick said he had tried to stop ..."

Horn turned his head.

His jaw was so developed that it was hard to ignore his fat lips behind the ridge. His nose was even thicker, and he had a pair of frighteningly large eyes and ears.

If you are targeted by such a person, you must lower your head immediately to survive.

“Is there still any honor in this surname?”

He did not make any sound from his throat. Instead, it was as if he had planned it in his stomach, beating drums and gongs, and the sound came up like an earthquake in his mouth.

“…But, but, sir.” The subordinate was really in a dilemma.

He didn't dare disobey Horn.

But I really don't want him to do anything to the ship - blasphemers should die, but the executioner is a different matter.

"'But my Lord'? Answer me, William, is there any honor left in that name?"

Horn leaned forward slowly.

The waves made the shadow on his face flicker. William lowered his head quickly, not daring to look into those eyes.

"…They have always been the most devout believers of the goddess. My lord, the Westwick family has…"

"There is a divine servant," Horn lowered his voice, but took a step towards him, "Then we should abandon our beliefs and vows, and allow those who believe in ice and coldness to destroy the trees on the goddess's land, the seeds that have not sprouted, and the flower gardens that we should have built for her to enjoy -"

The more he spoke, the softer his voice became.

"Is that what you had in mind, William?"

The green-robed man bowed in fear and said, "...I will always be loyal to my faith and my oath, Goddess."

"Your mind has been darkened by the schemes of mortals, William. You have forgotten your true faith. Perhaps you remember it, but it is no longer firm."

Horn looked at the increasingly humble man, and a trace of sadness appeared on his savage face.

"…You should not fear me, my friend."

He spoke slowly, and each word could not be more distinct.

"You should fear your own heart."

Silent rolling thunder was locked in the clouds that were constantly being forced down.

"The blasphemer must die."

"If we allow him to continue to study and spread those blasphemous words, I am afraid that more people will be deceived by him. Do you know what the consequences will be?"

His expression was heavy, as if he had swallowed a sharp dagger and was unable to remove it, with his stomach and intestines tangled in a bloody mess.

"war."

Horn said.

"Not only is the Holy Cross under attack by evildoers, but the Maelstrom is also unable to avoid this conflict..."

William sighed inwardly.

"You are right, my lord. But we have to be wary of the Inquisition—"

"Since I am right, William," he said without looking back, looking unusually tall when facing the sea breeze: "As the firstborn children of all things, we should bear the responsibility of the eldest sons - can you guarantee the faith of those burners?"

"If they had not allowed this blasphemous death at sea..."

“Once on shore…”

Horn shook his head.

"I don't trust these people's morals and beliefs. They have no reverence and are full of lies. The same is true of their gods."

The man in green robes was silent.

After a few breaths, they silently disappeared on the deck.

That means the conversation is over.

Horn pulled an opened letter from his robe pocket.

The small line of words on the corner is the name of the sender.

—Cliff Hyman.

“…You better keep your word.”

He muttered to himself, crumpled the letter in his palm, and then gently let it go.

The "secret" that burst out of the flesh and blood instantly blew away the remaining butterflies with asymmetrical wings. The huge price made the ritualist hunch over for a moment, and then he quickly straightened his back and hummed the most ancient sacrificial words in his stomach -

Those are the blood and tears of mortals after the tide poured into the cave, the truth and mystery that have been circulated like ignorant amber in the urine-stained hands of millions of mortals for thousands of years.

It is nature's gift and punishment.

The rumbling drumbeats come from the heart. They follow the same rhythm as the rustling sails, and gradually, they lead the sails and merge with the waves and thunder.

"There are countless hearts in the forest..."

Horn slowly raised his arms.

“They beat the drums.”

…………

…

When Roland and his party rushed onto the deck, the western horizon had collapsed, as if the layered long skirt had lost its whalebone support.

Heavy rain mixed with sawdust hit the deck and the people on it. Fernandez, with a gloomy face, came out with the blade: they quarreled, and were all drowned in the thunder and storm.

The harbor we came from disappeared long ago, and the remaining black ink dot swaying in the water was another ship that was following behind.

Roland squinted his eyes, but the fire in his pupils could not penetrate the layers of waves.

The two sailors bumped into him and, without a word, staggered toward the rigging.

In the face of such an unreasonable and desperate natural disaster, all the skills of operating the ship were useless - the sailor on the lookout fell to the ground in front of Shandel.

At a distance of dozens of feet, only a chest and two legs would be left on the deck.

His abdomen and pelvis exploded from the inside out like a urine bubble, and turbid liquid mixed with seawater and irregular particles sprayed everywhere. Soon, they were swept away by waves that washed onto the deck, and were swept away completely.

The sailor didn't die immediately, and even used his two arms to support himself and crawled a little. He looked down at himself amid his friend's crying and screaming, and bent back several times in confusion.

Just like that, he broke his vertebrae that should have been broken long ago.

A rusty pocket watch was washed to Roland's feet.

That is his relic.

"We have to--find a way--to get over there!" Fernandez and Blade rushed forward, cursing profusely. The sailors were not to be outdone, shouting against the storm.

"To—where?"

Fernandez hit Roland hard and pushed him and Shandel into the cabin.

Following him, Herrera did the same thing.

In the face of this disaster...

Roland and Shandel were of no use.

Although he is only a second ring, but...

But the benefactor is above.

These two... these two are still children, they are so young, how could they die here?

"Someone-attacked-us."

Blade held Roland on one side and Shandel on the other, hooking the two young men into her arms so that they could listen to her talk.

"Someone! Attacking! Us!"

She yelled.