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Chapter 455: Just a Monster, Not an Evil God?
🕑 Added 2025-05-21 15:05:01 +0000 UTCDuring the subsequent voyage, Charlot Mecklenburg encountered no trace of the Black Phoenix Dynasty's fleet.
Carefully adjusting his route according to the coordinates, he finally spotted an island in the distance after seven or eight days of navigation! This island bore clear signs of human habitation. On its southeastern side, there was even a harbor situated between cliffs, forming a natural bay. However, the harbor appeared abandoned, as if it had not been used for a long time.
When Charlot first saw the island, he immediately understood why the three items were here.
There was no need to search for the Sea Serpent Queen Posugi, the Whale King, or the ancient Gomodoro Tree. Someone had already collected the serpent fang, the whale’s tear, and the ancient tree branch and hidden them on this mysterious island.
“This must be the location of some kind of hidden treasure,” Charlot mused.
“Who could have controlled this place in the past? And why was it abandoned?”
Charlot had informed Juno Arthur of his intentions for this journey, but Juno showed no interest in going ashore. Thus, Charlot brought only Argon, Gareth Mecklenburg, and Andreas with him to explore the island.
Although Charlot was still at the eighteenth rank, his mastery of twelve layers of the Swiftstep Technique allowed him to exhibit an almost supernatural grace akin to the legendary light-footed warriors from ancient Earth martial arts novels. His movements were far more impressive than the “water-spider” or “elephant crossing the river” techniques of modern martial arts fiction.
Without the aid of his subordinates, Charlot stepped on the waves and ascended to the island!
He had already confirmed with the Golden Ram Herolf that this island appeared on no maps, no pirate legends, and no historical documents. Even the extensive records Charlot had taken from Saint Michael Island contained no mention of this place.
From afar, the island seemed quite large, likely spanning several hundred square kilometers, enough to accommodate a small human town. However, its extreme distance from the mainland and scarcity of resources made it an inhospitable location for a settlement. Any town built here would undoubtedly face harsh conditions.
Charlot recalled the Agmirlas Labyrinth and lamented that he no longer had any pages from it. Although the island had an abandoned harbor and signs of human activity, there was no sign of a city—no ruins, not even remnants. It was unlikely to become labyrinthine in structure, though it would have made an excellent candidate for such transformation.
Standing on the island, Charlot glanced around as the three subordinates descended behind him. Andreas, visibly flushed, muttered as soon as his feet touched the ground, “Flying is impossible here. Something is off.”
Argon’s expression was grave as he added, “This isn’t an anti-flight zone or a gravity magic array. It’s the island itself resisting transcendent powers above the Saint rank.”
Gareth Mecklenburg inhaled deeply, his body surging with blood energy that enveloped him like a crimson suit of armor. “Father, allow me to clear the way for you.”
Striding forward confidently, Gareth’s declaration made both Argon and Andreas cover their mouths, their faces reddening as they tried to suppress their laughter. After a while, they composed themselves and followed Gareth.
Charlot shrugged, feeling that such situations were beyond his control.
The four of them reached the cliffs on the edge of the island. From this vantage point, they could see eight warships slowly sailing into the natural harbor.
The Dolmabahçe was the first to dock, yet no one disembarked.
This was Charlot’s order—no one was to set foot on the island before he conducted an initial investigation. So far, the caution had proven wise; the island indeed had an eerie atmosphere.
Despite being protected by three Saint-rank companions, Charlot remained vigilant. Suddenly, he sensed movement in the nearby underbrush. Without hesitation, he drew the Withered Rose and fired.
The vampiric pistol, purchased long ago from Julian Arsilo, had rarely been used as Charlot’s strength grew. However, for exploring an island like this, the weapon was perfect—compact, powerful, and capable of replenishing its ammunition through its vampiric abilities.
Charlot’s marksmanship, honed under Juno’s guidance, had significantly improved. Even with a low-tier transcendent pistol, he landed a direct hit on the moving figure.
To his surprise, the Withered Rose absorbed energy equivalent to several bullets. The creature in the brush faltered but quickly tried to flee, astonishing Charlot further.
The three Saint-rank companions drew their weapons. Andreas swung his sword with a fierce shout, unleashing a transparent energy blade that cut through foliage, exposing their target.
It appeared human—yet clearly was not.
The figure wore an ancient naval uniform of a style unfamiliar to any known nation of the Old Continent. Its skin was a ghastly white, almost inhumanly so. Its bare feet had only a single toe—not a deformity, but a natural feature. Similarly, its hands bore only one thick, curved finger. It had a single eye, burning with an unsettling brilliance, filled with rage, hatred, and a bloodthirsty malevolence.
It lacked both a mouth and a nose.
Andreas spoke in a low voice. “That’s a naval uniform from the Sherlock Dynasty!”
Gareth added, “Never seen or heard of such a monster before.”
Argon gravely stated, “It’s not an orc either.”
The monster faced the four individuals with blatant malice but was also visibly apprehensive—particularly fearful of the Withered Rose in Charlot Mecklenburg’s hands. It had taken a shot from the weapon earlier and clearly suffered from it.
Charlot pondered for a moment before saying, “Kill it.”
The monster seemed to understand Charlot's words. It tilted its head back as if to roar in rage, but lacking a mouth, it could only mimic the posture without producing any sound.
Gareth delivered a seemingly casual strike, yet a surge of immense energy swept through, erasing the creature entirely from existence.
Although the monster had been killed, Charlot felt a twinge of unease. He muttered softly, “Let’s stay vigilant.”
Argon shrugged his shoulders and mumbled, “It’s just a monster, not an evil god.”
Charlot chuckled at his own overreaction. He knew Argon had a point. Both Argon and Gareth were formidable Saint rank combatants at the twenty-second level, while Andreas had already surpassed the twentieth level long ago. With such a team, even if an avatar of an evil god descended, they could hold their ground for several rounds—let alone dealing with mere monsters.
Charlot himself was also at the eighteenth level, a high-ranking Transcendent, practically invincible below the Saint rank.
The group made a circuit around the cliffside, examining the abandoned port. The original facilities remained relatively intact, with many structures carved directly into the cliff, leading to the opposite side. The construction was monumental, likely requiring either an extraordinary number of workers or the intervention of Transcendent builders.
Charlot, however, had no intention of exploring the port in detail. His mission was to find the extraordinary artifact needed to repair the Radiant Holy Kingdom, not to embark on a leisurely adventure. Quickly, he led the three Saint rank fighters deeper into the island.
Though the island appeared to resist Transcendent powers above the Saint rank, the effects were mostly limited to impeding flight. If they were willing to burn an excessive amount of combat energy, Andreas and the others could still manage flight with difficulty. Using other extraordinary abilities seemed unimpeded.
The group had brought ample weapons and weren’t overly concerned about potential dangers.
After walking for about half an hour, Charlot suddenly leapt high into the air. Thanks to his Swiftstep Technique at level 12, he soared nearly fifty pimi. Glancing back from midair, he could still see the cliff in the distance. Just as he began to relax slightly, he noticed countless monsters, identical to the one they had just killed, converging from all directions toward the edge of the cliff.
Charlot landed and quietly described what he had seen.
Andreas said, “The fleet is under Juno Arthur’s protection. They don’t need us to go back and assist. I suggest we press onward.”
“These monsters must have a nest!”
“While we’re not afraid of them, their sheer numbers would be a hassle to deal with,” Andreas added.
Argon and Gareth took to the skies in succession. Unlike Charlot, they could truly fly. Despite the island’s mysterious suppression, they confirmed a direction with some effort, though it cost them considerable combat energy.
The group quickened their pace and soon encountered a beast. It was massive—on Earth, it could rival an elephant in size. However, its form resembled a wild wolf with the head of a tyrannosaurus, exuding ferocity as it lunged toward them.
Charlot fired eighteen consecutive shots to finally bring down the savage beast. The Withered Rose absorbed the creature’s life force, replenishing over a hundred blood energy bullets in the process, a testament to its immense vitality.
Charlot could sense that the peculiar creature was likely an extraordinary magical beast, albeit a low-ranking one, around the second or third level.
The group had little interest in examining the beast further. Only Andreas attempted a casual slash, finding his combat-energy-enhanced blade cut through its hide as easily as tofu. Losing interest, he abandoned the idea of salvaging anything from the creature.
As they ventured deeper into the island, they began encountering more life forms. All the creatures on the island were bizarre and unique—species rarely seen, even on the Old Continent, or entirely unrecorded.
Charlot avoided unnecessary killing. His goal was to locate the artifact to repair the Radiant Holy Kingdom, not to slaughter creatures or explore the island’s secrets.
After calculating their route, Charlot estimated they were nearing the island’s center. Suddenly, they heard a strange croaking sound. A group of slender, over-three-meter-tall giants with blue skin emerged from the forest, crudely aiming bows and arrows at them.
Charlot couldn’t help but exclaim, “Could there really be an intelligent species here?”
A female blue-skinned giant made a series of guttural calls. To Charlot’s surprise, he understood the language—it was from the Sherlock Dynasty. He had studied it during his time at university.
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