Chapter 529: Homeground reversal
Translator: Translation Nation Editor: Translation Nation
One didn’t have to mention the destructiveness of his ‘Zergling Rush’ ability. Prior to Harrod awakening to his senses, Sheyan’s three blades had already conjured up three flowing rays as they directly hacked away against the exact spot!
The blood boat was only as broad as two metres. As Sheyan’s saber carved a metre long laceration onto the boat, maroon wooden splinters splattered all in all directions; leaving a deep 30 cm crevice into the boat.
Through the crevice, even the bottommost composition of the boat could be seen. One could even see the blood vapor vehemently diffusing in, congealing into the crevice and seemingly attempting to mend the boat.
Instead, Sheyan roared sonorously as he slashed his saber down again with full might.
His saber cleaved in fully with loathsome hysteria, so much so that the surrounding onlookers could seemingly hear melancholic and bitter wails from the blood vapor!!
KACHA! The razor-sharp blade cleaved deep into the bottommost layer of the boat; cutting nearly three quarters through the blood boat’s keel.
But at this moment, the enraged Harrod swung forth mightily with his greatsword towards Sheyan! After receiving a shot from ‘Ambition’, his entire body was wrapped in furtive blackness; appearing to be infected by the ink of ‘Paul’s blessing’.
However, a ridiculously far-fetched affair occurred. The blood vapor surged in as it actually absorbed and totally neutralized the blackness!
The viking souls of the blood boat could actually absorb the ink of Kraken Octopus Paul!!
One could fathom the wise resolution that Sheyan had undertook. If he really engaged in bitter fighting on this blood boat, then Harrod would’ve utterly eclipsed him in superiority.
Facing the wild retaliation of his opponent, Sheyan remained unflinching; allowing the greatsword to slash against his right arm. Blood gushed out as Sheyan gritted his teeth and borrowed the impetus of the impact, and stomped his feet down onto the nearly broken keel of the boat.
KACHA! The keel of this blood boat finally and helplessly snapped apart.
Instantaneously, one could distinctly observe the rich maroon shade of the deck gradually being eroded away by the seawater, while discharging blood vapor that condensed into countless distorted faces; screaming out with agonizing wails.
Sheyan endured as he blocked another two swipes from Harrod’s greatsword, which triggered his ‘Zergling Rush’ ability once again with blue currents flickering through his body.
At this moment, the distant Ammand bellowed abruptly.
“Harrod, cut yourself!”
Ammand was aware of the intrinsic nature of berserkers; perceiving the more severe their injuries, the greater potential they could unlock and subsequently unleashing greater strength and abilities. On the contrary, if he continued in his optimal state, the might he could exhibit was purely mediocre.
Hearing Ammand’s call, Harrod was instantly startled to a halt. He had never come across a rival like Sheyan, purely disregarding the battle ahead but instead opting to wreck the boat.
Thus, he had never contemplated on the durability of his blood boat before. Jolted awake from his bewilderment by Ammand’s call, he instantly scraped deeply against his chest with his greatsword….
Blood and searing agony transmitted throughout Harrod’s entire body, as his eyes turned scarlet within a second!
The frenzy of the berserker was awakened!
Nevertheless, Sheyan’s glittering long saber continued brimming with elegant oceanic blue brilliance, as it was raised loftily alongside his drawn out laughters. With great ferocity, he cleaved down towards the ruinous crevice of the blood boat.
Kacha! KACHA! KACHA!
Three consecutive snapping resounded out, sending maroon wooden splinters scattering dishelveredly. The rich blood vapor poured out in unison alongside the pitiable wails of the vengeful spirits; as though the viking souls within were warning with the call of a bleak bugle horn….
After the three saber strikes, the blood boat could no longer endure such ravagings as it violently tremored!!
Icy cold seawater swiftly churned in through the crevice of the boat, as it slapped against both their faces. A wave of iciness enveloped them entirely in that instance.
Facing the incoming sweep of Harrod’s unstoppable greatsword, Sheyan heavily knelt down as the chilling blade swiped through few strands of his hair. Concurrently instead, Sheyan smashed the shaft of his saber against the floor, as it emitted a ‘Ka la’ cracking muffle.
This ravaged blood boat could no longer withstand such a severe blow, as another two metre long gash split opened instantaneously.
At this moment, Harrod could no longer stand steadily, as he watched on as excessive blood vapor momentarily condensed into face – vikings with furious distorted features, stained with blood as their beard and hair fluttered along the wind. These faces then reluctantly soared into the skies.
As the blood vapor continue diffusing, the frame of the blood boat started decaying and disintegrating; as though multitudes of rocks were crashing down onto a centuries old coffin.
Eventually, the boat was utterly destroyed and submerged. Consecutively, the two individuals on board plunged into the sea.
Before he was drowned under the icy mix of blood and seawater, Sheyan revealed a sneer on his face; as though he was hunting down a large shark. He then quietly and peacefully submerge beneath the water surface.
As for Harrod’s entire body, he was engulfed in wrath and humiliation! As the furious frenzy of a berserker was triggered, his surroundings seemingly morphed into a horrifying blood red vortex!
Sheyan had naturally placed away ‘Ambition’ into a whole other dimension – his party storage. Even Little Lord Fokke couldn’t locate the ‘Diary of Morgan Fokke’ in the storage, so obviously, ‘Ambition’s’ aura couldn’t be leaked out to scare away the ravenous sharks.
Simultaneously, both individuals were shredded with superficial wounds, as the flavour of their blood permeated through the sea. Instantly, the insatiable caribbean sharks swarmed them, as started tearing the humans asunder with their massive awe-inspiring white fangs.
Plunged into such a situation, Sheyan covered his face with his arm and refrained from striking back; allowing the sharks to ravage him!
Sheyan had calculated beforehand. With his current defensive capabilities, an enemy’s theoretical damage must scale above 83 points in order to breakthrough the absorption of his innate ability ‘Stronghold’, and deal more than 1 damage to him.
Furthermore, according to the statistics beforehand, a third rate ship’s marine could only deal roughly a hundred damage with a shot from his rifle. Thus, he could deduce that the chomping menace of these commonly seen sharks of the caribbean sea would not eclipse that of a lead bullet. If not, none of the ships in the caribbean sea would be able to withstand the joint assaults of sharks, and be sunk.
In contrast to Sheyan’s conservative self, Harrod was frenziedly massacring the sharks in the sea. His eyes were rolled backwards, and completely revealed a deathly whiteness encircled by bloodshot veins. Pipes of thick bulging blue veins protruded out along his neck.
Even in the water, his dual-handed greatsword swept horizontally with unparalleled power! The surrounding sharks around him were directly dismembered into two wherever his greatsword struck, or gravely wounded even it was just a slight brush!
The agitation from the blood boat sinking was tremendous. Speaking from various perspective, this boat was like a symbol of their Asgarda tribe; a sacred tool! It had been inherited throughout the generations, but was utterly ruined in his hands after several generations. To Harrod, this was akin to being drowned in humiliation and guilt. Only one notion remained in his mind – to slaughter!!
Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!
Perhaps slaying the enemy ahead, or whatever that obstructs his path, or perhaps himself!
Harrod waved his greatsword as he upsurge a blood storm within the water. Then, he formed up into a tremendous blood vortex, as he surged towards Sheyan. Except, he was no longer in his blood boat where his movement speed was enhanced, while Sheyan’s speed was dwarfed.
One could distinctly observe that Sheyan’s mobility in the water was amplified in comparison to that of Harrod’s. Even if Sheyan swam in circles, catching up still wouldn’t be an easy feat for Harrod.
Furthermore, his wild massacre of sharks only led to a bitter fact – the masses of sharks would not decrease, but in turn, more would be attracted by the rich blood stench. Hence, the sharks surrounding Sheyan were enticed over, as they devoured the corpses of their comrades as well.
These savage sharks surged forward as they pursued in from the four corners of the sea. In this current era, shark fin hadn’t been popularized, and the sharks of the caribbean sea had not been butchered excessively. Naturally, they were without nemesis in their ecology. Moreover, a dog’s sense of smell was already outstanding, but sharks were a notched above the dogs.
They could detect the rich odour of blood and flesh from just 1 parts per million (PPM) in the water. Moreover, even a gram of amino acid that dissolved inside a kiloton of seawater, could be detected by the sharks!!
If the former congregation of sharks around the blood boat was described as a boiling bowl of porridge, then the current scene of even a kilometre away, had become a terrifyingly shuddering spectacle to behold! The sharks had practically transformed into tidal waves, as it swept in fanatically and astoundingly.
As it was night time, even the pirates on board could not differentiate the current state of battle. There was seemingly no ways of interfering even if they wished to, but could only watch on with widened eyes as they strived to differentiate the core position of these wave like sharks.
Frequently, regiments of maroon blood would gurgle out and pollute the water, which was the sole testimony that Harrod was still struggling.
However, the current Harrod was already an arrow at the end of its flight.
The greatest flaw of berserkers, were their inability to persist in a drawn out fight. Recited in the poems of troubadours, thee berserkers were only experts in unleashing a tempest of assaults to drown their opponents. There had never been a poem about a berserker gaining victory after three days and three nights of battling.
A berserker drew destructive might from pain, but pain was like a double-edged sword to them. As long as time dragged on, they would ultimately fall over the edge of defeat.
