The sea, which had been relatively calm, suddenly grew wild. Waves rose higher and higher, surging against the fleet cobbled together by a group of pirates and scattering it away from the harbor.
Whistling gales carried countless thin, razor-sharp blades of wind. They left slash marks across the hulls, tore the raised sails into strips, and sliced some unlucky pirates who failed to dodge in time clean in half.
Cyril gazed at the clouds where bolts of lightning writhed like silver snakes and narrowed his eyes. The Spirituality there was at its strongest. The Church of Storms' Demigod was hidden in the dark clouds.
"Is the 'Sea King' behind this?"
"He briefly left the Rorsted Archipelago and then returned without a trace. Was it all to lure these eager pirates into coming here on their own, so he could wipe them out in one fell swoop?"
Dimitri adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He, too, gazed at the clouds where silver lightning snakes danced, and said calmly, "Who knows? But none of these pirates who've gathered here are likely to leave today."
Boom! Boom!
As the two spoke, silver bolts of lightning shot out of the clouds, carrying a savage, devastating force so intense it seemed almost tangible. They rained down in a dense barrage on the fleet scattered across the sea by the waves and gale.
The terrifying, icy silver lightning lasted only five or six seconds before quietly vanishing. The stormy sea soon settled as well.
Sunlight pierced the clouds and fell upon the sea. Not a single ship remained intact—only scattered wreckage, slowly sinking beneath the surface.
Cyril withdrew his gaze. A phantom book appeared in his eyes and quickly vanished.
...Lucky me. I'd just digested some of the Scribe potion, allowing me to record