leonardwarren Chapter 319 Assassination Operation
Chapter 319 Assassination Operation
Chapter 319 Assassination Operation
Above the golden-red sea, shrouded in the orange twilight, the clouds were stretched into various shapes by the wind, and below, the ships that rose and fell gently with the waves looked like exquisite silhouettes.
Above the sea, large flocks of seabirds circled back and forth, and every now and then one or two seabirds would swoop into the fishing nets floating on the surface and snatch fresh fish from the fishermen's nets.
Some of them managed to snatch the spoils and escape, while others ended up in the fishing nets, becoming part of the fishermen's catch.
On the open-air terrace of a local restaurant by the coast, Sirian sat in a wicker chair, sketchbook and paintbrush in hand, capturing the scene on the sea.
This is the golden fishing port in the south of Sonia Island, and also the largest and most prosperous port for seagoing in the North Sonia Sea.
With a few strokes of his paintbrush, Sirion sketched out a sea bathed in orange twilight.
He had just put down his paintbrush when a familiar figure walked straight over, pulled out a chair, and sat down opposite him.
He looked up at the other person, raised an eyebrow slightly, and then said, "How did you find me? And someone of your status doesn't need to disguise yourself when you go out?"
Opposite him, Cheryl, wearing a sleeveless fur coat and with her hair tied into dirty braids, leaned back in her chair, exuding a free and easy yet aggressive air, giving the impression of a boss on a pirate ship.
"The painting is very good."
She glanced at the easel in Sirion's hand, offered a word of praise, and then said, "Randolph Carter, the painter with a bounty of 45000 pounds, you just swagger into Golden Harbor like this. If I still can't find you, then I, as the leader, would be a complete failure."
"As for disguise, ha, I'm in disguise most of the time, but few people know what I look like now."
After a brief pause, she handed a brown file folder to Sirion: "Here is the information you need. There has been a recent personnel reshuffle in the Fusak military on Sonia Island, and the new colonel is a good target."
"Would you like me to record some of the more lethal extraordinary abilities at the demigod level?"
Cyril nodded slightly: "Of course."
On the giant stone plaza paved with gray and white marble outside the Twilight Church, Cyril wandered among the crowd, moving towards the church's main entrance.
The melodious chimes rang out at this moment, carried by the sea breeze throughout the harbor.
Cyril stopped and closed his eyes. He could feel that the "Recorder" potion in his body was starting to digest again.
"At this rate, after a few trips around Sonia Island and then a visit to the Rosed Isles, the Recorder's potion should be almost fully digested."
He muttered something under his breath and stepped through the doors of the Twilight Chapel.
This church is much larger than the Church of Dawn in Nass and taller than most churches, as if it were built to resemble the figure of a giant.
On both sides of the hall stand square stone pillars with intricate carvings, each with a black iron lamp holder fixed to its side, supporting a round glass lampshade about the size of a basketball.
The dim, yellowish light shining through the glass lampshade was almost frozen, looking like the sunset about to fall on the sea.
On the brick-red stone wall directly in front of the hall is a twilight emblem composed of a giant sword, a shield, and a setting sun.
Cyril followed the crowd to the front, found an empty corner to sit down, pretended to pray for a moment, but actually stared blankly at the Twilight Emblem in front of him.
In his true vision, everything in the hall became abstract, like a child's doodle in an oil painting.
Where the Twilight Emblem originally stood, a twilight appeared, gradually sinking into darkness and heading towards its demise, staining the surroundings with an orange-red hue and exuding an aura of decay.
He looked down at himself; the orange-red of "twilight" hadn't touched him at all, but instead made him look somewhat out of place.
After a two-second silence, he got up and left the church with the crowd.
Behind him, the last rays of twilight fell upon the twilight emblem, making it appear sacred and solemn.
He paused suddenly as he stepped out the door, turned back as if sensing something, and glanced at the twilight emblem that seemed to be glowing.
...That's when the "God of War" noticed me and cast his gaze at me?
After carefully sensing it, his spiritual intuition gave no feedback. He shook his head slightly and then walked away from the church.
In the Upper City, far from the docks, not far from the City Lord's Mansion, in a heavily guarded villa mansion, there were officers on duty.
The sound of footsteps accompanied by low voices echoed down the corridor: "Colonel Raoul, there is a banquet hosted by the city lord's mansion tonight. You need to be out before 8 o'clock."
"Most of the nobles, high-ranking government officials, and military officers here were invited, which is a good opportunity to integrate into the local circle."
"I see."
"Have the waiter prepare some hot water; I need to take a bath and then change into something presentable."
"Yes, Colonel Raoul."
squeak~
The wooden door was pushed open, and a middle-aged man wearing a dark red overcoat covered with medals walked in.
He was tall and straight, about 1.9 meters tall, with a high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, light blue eyes, and slightly curly brown hair.
His facial features were sharp and his chin was slightly raised, giving him an air of looking down on everyone.
Behind him stood a young gentleman dressed in a long black tuxedo, with his hair meticulously styled and wearing framed glasses.
She carried a pen and a notebook with her, suggesting she was a secretary or similar figure.
"Although Sonia Island cannot compare to the Southern Continent, we have frequent clashes with the military of the Kingdom of Rune. Given enough time, you can accumulate a lot of military merits and may be promoted to major general before you retire."
"Military merits?" The middle-aged man sitting in the chair behind his desk asked in a complicated tone, tinged with disdain.
"If I were ten years younger, military merit would indeed be very important."
"But for me now, no matter how many military achievements I have, they are just numbers that allow me to be transferred from one place to another."
"I am not named Einhorn, nor am I one of those great nobles who have existed since the founding of the nation. This identity means that becoming a colonel is my limit."
The young secretary at the desk remained silent; the colonel could complain, but he couldn't take the subject.
After a moment of silence, the middle-aged man behind the desk, who appeared to be resting with his eyes closed, waved to him and said, "You can go now. Prepare a gift for the banquet and a list of guests who will be attending."
"Okay." The young secretary nodded and left the room, closing the door very quietly.
With a snapping sound, a kind of isolation was created between the inside and outside of the room, turning it into a closed area.
"Um?"
Colonel Raoul, who was sitting behind his desk, suddenly opened his eyes and looked toward the door. He had just sensed an abnormal spiritual fluctuation.
Before he could react, the light in the room suddenly dimmed for a moment, then suddenly brightened again, as if a dark cloud had briefly drifted overhead.
Raoul stood up from his chair with a serious expression. Even though he wasn't known for his spiritual intuition, he had noticed the problem.
All sounds outside the room disappeared, and the windows became hazy, as if covered by a white mist.
Pink petals kept falling from the mist, creating a beautiful scene, as if one had entered a paradise.
The source of peach blossoms!
But Raoul was in no mood to appreciate the strange scenery. All his senses were blocked within the house, and the alarm he secretly pressed under the table was ineffective.
The room he was in had been isolated from the outside world in a way he couldn't understand.
"Hmph!" Raoul snorted coldly, his sharp gaze sweeping over the surroundings. "Now that you've made your move, are you still afraid to show yourself?"
Across from Raoul, Cyril, leaning back in his chair, felt a sudden surge of emotion welling up inside him and smirked, saying, "Haven't I been in front of you the whole time?"
Raoul paused for a moment, then belatedly realized that Cyril was sitting opposite him, looking at him with a half-smile.
He seemed to finally come to his senses, recalling the events that had just transpired.
From the moment he opened the window, this person was sitting in his office. His secretary had been standing next to him and talking to him, but neither he nor his secretary had noticed him at all.
No, I did notice it, but my inspiration and brain deliberately ignored its existence.
Raoul looked at Cyril with a grim expression: "The psychological invisibility of the 'audience'?"
"What do you want? To make a deal with me, to threaten me, or to assassinate me?"
"You actually know this is psychological stealth?" Sirion looked at Colonel Raoul, who had been talking to him with his chin raised, with some surprise.
Raoul's expression darkened further: "I am a colonel in the Fussac Empire, and I have an intelligence network for that country."
"I not only know that you infiltrated using the ability of psychological invisibility, but I also know that those who use this method—the audience—don't have strong direct combat abilities."
Cyril leaned forward to look at Raoul, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't you know that the 'audience' is quite skilled at hypnosis?"
Raoul's expression changed; he had indeed overlooked that point.
...From the moment I entered the room, he was secretly hypnotizing and psychologically suggesting things to me?
As the thought flashed through his mind, a flock of crimson and white fire crows quickly condensed around Raoul, leaving bright red arcs in the air as they attacked Sirion from all directions.
The latter remained seated in the chair, making no movement, but his eyes reflected a rapidly flipping through an illusory book.
The moment the flaming raven landed on him, the crimson flames surged, engulfing him before disappearing.
At the same time, the ball of fire that was gathering around Raoul suddenly went out of control.
The flames suddenly flared up, and Cyril's figure leaped out of the fire.
Flames leap!
As he leaped out of the flames, a large amount of fire gathered in front of Raoul, forming a blazing wall of flames.
Ignoring the raging wall of flames in front of him, Cyril clenched his right fist, his muscles bulging, and swung it forward with all his might.
As he threw his punch, the wall of flames in front of him suddenly became chaotic.
The raging flames no longer coalesced, but instead clashed, creating numerous holes of varying sizes.
boom!
His fist pierced through the hole in the wall of flames and slammed into Raoul's body, deforming him and sending him flying backward, crashing into the bookshelf on the wall.
Cyril frowned slightly. Among the scattered books, there was no sign of Raoul, only a pale yellow paper figure.
His spiritual intuition suddenly gave him a warning, and he sensed a sense of crisis coming from behind.
The next second, a long spear with flames that were white with a hint of red pierced through his body from behind, the tip of the spear sinking into the floor and exploding with a bang.
boom!
The crimson, scorching flames spread out in layers, and Cyril's figure became thinner and more brittle in the flames, finally turning into a crudely cut paper figure and burning to ashes.
Before the glass window, Sirian's figure stood out against the sweltering heat.
As soon as he appeared, a dense barrage of crimson fireballs bombarded him, filling almost the entire room.
The illusory books in his eyes flipped through the pages, and Sirion took a step back, his figure vanishing instantly.
Boom! Boom!
A series of dense, continuous fireballs exploded, and crimson flames and heat waves almost covered the entire room.
Having just "flashed" away from an attack, Cyril was once again surrounded by flames. Crimson waves of fire surged in, causing his hair to curl.
He clenched his fist tightly with his left hand, which was wrapped around a black and gold-inlaid pocket watch, and the firelight that swept around him suddenly became chaotic, forming an open space around him.
Taking advantage of the chaos of the surrounding firelight, he took out a pair of black and silver gloves and put them on.
The moment he put on the gloves, an indescribable aura of majesty emanated from him, and his figure seemed to grow taller, making those who saw him want to bow their heads and prostrate themselves.
This was a magical item that Triss had given him before, formed from the combination of properties and items extracted from Finkel, the old butler of Red Rose Manor whom he had killed.
Its negative effects include making the wearer irritable, arrogant, and impulsive. Repeated use in a short period of time can breed a dark and negative secondary personality within the user.
If no one wears it, it will spontaneously create strange rules around it, unless it is put into an expensive box or placed next to someone of high status.
He wasn't quite sure what this glove signified as a sign of high status, but it always kept a low profile when he carried it with him.
Composing himself, he clenched his right fist, pressed it against the air in front of him, and solemnly declared in ancient Hermes: "Burning is prohibited here!"
As soon as the words were spoken, the flames in the room diminished by more than half, and the fireballs that had gathered in mid-air became precarious.
Cyril stared ahead and continued to pronounce in the ancient Hermes: "Fire is forbidden here!"
The flames, which were already teetering in mid-air, were instantly extinguished.
In the center of the room, Raoul looked over with a gloomy expression. Crimson flames rose and fell around him, but no flames ever materialized.