Fist of Judgment

Iceport's morning was shrouded in thick fog.

The dense fog hung over the entire harbor like a heavy white curtain.

Visibility was less than twenty meters. Even the lighthouse at the end of the dock was only a vague outline.

This should have been the busiest time of day at the dock, but today was unusually quiet. Only a few hunched workers could be seen in the distance, moving unidentified cargo.

Only the cold lake water slapped against the dock pilings, producing a monotonous, muffled sound.

Sotowa stood at the center of the dock, followed by more than a hundred fully armed sword-bearing guards.

He had deliberately changed into a splendid velvet coat today, with a badge representing his status as Brevor's lord pinned to his chest and expensive gem rings on his hands.

Sotowa was in an excellent mood.

Ever since he had "sent off" Xia Lin and those pests two days ago, he had remained in a state of subtle exhilaration.

Just yesterday, the messenger sent by the Frostfang Pirates had eagerly reported the "successful ambush" and brought some "evidence": several scorched scraps of blue cloth, along with a mission list that proved their identities.

Naturally, Sotowa did not fully trust the pirates' side of the story.

He had sent his most reliable subordinate to personally inspect the wreckage of the North Wind on the open lake.

The wreckage did exist, and it had indeed been blasted to pieces.

The hull had broken into two halves. The deck was almost completely destroyed, and not even a whole mast could be found.

Only then did Sotowa finally relax.

Hmph, what hero? What mythical powerhouse? Didn't he still end up at the bottom of the lake? he thought smugly. The resentment he had felt after being threatened and humiliated by