Chapter 297 - Chapter 297: Chapter 284 Destinys Trajectory "Fantasy Fellow (1/2)
Chapter 297: Chapter 284 Destiny’s Trajectory “Fantasy Fellow
Phelps Port in the East Coast Province.
The port of Nasir was still under expansion, and Phelps Port remained the largest in the entire East Coast Province, with its magnificent coastline and the azure sea forming an idyllic scene.
At this moment, the port was under martial law, no longer open to fishermen, and numerous steamships and alchemical sail vessels were docked haphazardly in the harbor.
The dozens of extraordinary nobility families from the East Coast Province had already gathered their soldiers and concentrated them in the port’s fleet.
Many residents of Phelps Port witnessed this from a distance.
An elderly man explained to his grandson on the shore:
“The spectacle of Phelps Port at this moment is like a prelude to the wars of years past, as our noble lords are about to wage war against the White Sea once again.”
“Did we win that war in the end?”
“No…”
The fleet was led by the powerful Fischer family, along with several viscount families from the East Coast Province.
These viscount families were the Lion clan, the Iron Blood clan, the Sunrise clan, and the Donnerklaue clan.
After decades of ups and downs, the original structure of the seven great viscount families on the East Coast had now solidified into a dominant Fischer and the four strong contenders: Lion, Iron Blood, Sunrise, and Donnerklaue.
The once illustrious Eagle clan, Roarer clan, and Spirit Deer clan had by now all been picked apart and devoured.
Within the entire East Coast Province, the status of the Fischer family was beyond question, and no one dared to challenge their authority anymore.
Aboard the flagship of the Fischer family’s fleet, the white-haired Byrne nodded quietly to the leaders of the four viscount families.
Many years had passed since the end of the last sea battle, when the Fischer family were mere followers in the fleet, unable to determine their own fate.
Yet this time, the initiator of the sea battle was himself.
Times had changed so swiftly.
“No, time actually moves quite slowly.”
He gazed at the sea from the deck, remembering himself with a head of black hair, now turned completely white—perhaps time did indeed creep along.
Standing behind him, Viscount Iron Blood Oder, also with graying hair, bowed deeply and cheerfully said:
“Your Excellency Byrne, everyone is ready. Please give the order to set sail.”
The head of the Donnerklaue clan, his hair also white with age, displayed a fierce hatred in his eyes. The previous maritime battle had decimated the Spirit Deer clan and left the Donnerklaue clan with heavy casualties.
Apart from his own rescue by Zavier, nearly all of his family members had perished.
“The day has finally come! How wonderful that I am still alive to see it through!”
Deep in his heart, he held an engrained hatred for the Sea God Cult, his old bones trembling almost violently as he cursed the sea.
“Sea God Cult, I will eradicate you! I want that so-called Sea God to be flayed and deboned, never to rise again for all eternity!”
Byrne listened to these curses, then glanced at the two young heads of the Lion and Sunrise families, and then at the two other elders, and said with deep emotion:
“The old men who once stood here, there are hardly any of them left, such is the capriciousness of fate.”
Viscount Oder sighed and nodded, “Indeed it is so, some did not receive the protection of the gods and thus could not stand here again.”
“We are the lucky ones, perhaps the Tempest Overlord and the Lord of Salvation are looking upon the Fischer and Iron Blood families with favor.”
Byrne offered no comment, just a faint smile.
Out of the four viscount families of the East Coast, only the Lion clan, which had intermarried, and the Iron Blood clan, who persisted as allies, were closest in relation to the Fischer family.
“You didn’t forget about me, did you?”
Suddenly, a strong presence emerged, as numerous droplets of water gradually coalesced into a frail human figure. Bishop Zane of the East Coast diocese, hands clasped behind his back, stood there smiling.
He nodded slightly toward Byrne, signaling his arrival.
Several viscounts also respectfully expressed their greetings to Bishop Zane.
“May the Tempest Overlord be with you!”
“Bishop, my lord!”
“You are finally here, Your Excellency.”
“I offer you my respects.”
Zane, as always, merely nodded and then approached Byrne, inquiring with a frown:
“Where is Earl Chris? Don’t tell me he’s not planning to come for a battle of this scale?”
Byrne smiled and continued, “He is not one for public appearances. You’ve known him for decades; you should be familiar with his character by now.”
Zane could only nod in acknowledgment, having realized over the years exactly the kind of person Chris was.
His son was said to be just as peculiar.
He turned his gaze to the vast White Sea, murmuring to himself:
“This time, I must have my revenge.”
“I have not forgotten the hatred of those years, not for a single moment!”