Under the dark night, facing one wave after another, the Crown led the Clovis fleet and moved forward hard in the storm.

In the dimly lit cabin, Anson was sitting next to the window with his chair legs crossed, staring intently at the pocket watch in his hand that kept moving, but all his attention was focused on the waves behind him.

Even without turning on spells or using powers, he could still vaguely sense something was wrong with the storm; especially at that moment...a certain...aura that seemed familiar but could not be remembered...

As a devout believer in the Circle of Order, Anson's understanding of the Three Old Gods is still at the beginner level. His only reference materials are "Research on the Three Old Gods" and the "Great Magic Book" "borrowed" from Clovis Cathedral.

Fragments.

Generally speaking, as long as a spell caster masters the "secret" skill, he can completely cover his aura and become an "ordinary person" in the eyes of others; unless he is a gifted person or spell caster with insight or mind-reading skills, he cannot be easily

aware of the problem.

The principle is similar to holding your breath or walking on tiptoes - even ordinary people who don't know magic and don't have the power of blood can still make others unable to easily notice their existence as long as they receive a lot of training.

But...this only applies to "ordinary" spellcasters.

In essence, becoming a spell caster is a gradual "change" process. From quantitative change to qualitative change is just a matter of time - although for the vast majority of spell casters, that time is out of reach.

As long as the boundary is crossed, the caster who originally retained the "human characteristics" of Baofeng will be completely transformed into another life form, and it is completely irreversible.

Such an existence may not be easily noticed by ordinary people, but for casters who belong to the "same kind" and have not completed their qualitative transformation, it will create "coercion" from the predator to the prey, and the higher the level, the more obvious the feeling will be.

It is precisely for this reason that during the Battle of Clovis Cathedral, the female inquisitor Sera Vergil was the first to become aware of the existence of the black mage Mace Honnard when everyone, including Anson himself, was unaware.

.

Now Ansen can clearly feel the indescribable pressure.

Perhaps because of the distance, this feeling is so weak that it is almost invisible; but as long as you touch it a little, your heart will start to tremble violently, breathing will become difficult, and it will even reach the point where you can't control your body.

Even when he faced Mace Hornard, he had never felt this way.

Resisting the urge to cough and take a deep breath, Anson glanced at the unlucky guy who was also seasick and fainted.

The pale-faced Carl Bain lay limply on the bed, with vomit residue still remaining at the corner of his mouth. He originally wanted to smoke a cigarette to calm down, but Anson refused with the excuse that "Lisa is still in the room."

.

The girl hugged her legs and sat on a chair in the corner of the cabin, holding a seemingly inexhaustible supply of canned fruit in her hands; as long as she had something to eat, Lisa would always be happy.

As time passed by, the not-so-spacious cabin swayed violently with the waves, the creaking deck emitted a strong smell of sea, and the atmosphere became dull as the air became increasingly humid.

In this deathly silence shrouded by the sound of heavy rain, the closed door was opened from the outside.

As the only commander in the Storm Division headquarters who was not seasick, Fabian pushed the door open and faced the gazes of the three people in the room, saying with a solemn expression:

"Something happened on the deck."

Almost at the moment he spoke, Anson noticed that only Fabian's boots and shoulders were soaked, and his pupils shrank undetectably.

"When I was about to leave the cabin, I was stopped by the third mate who was guarding the exit." Before Anson and Carl took the initiative to ask, Fabian sat down and poured himself a glass of rum and said truthfully:

"Based on the movement outside and his expression at that time, it seems that a crew member, and a very important crew member, was killed, which caused chaos. In addition, although he seemed to be trying his best to hide it, there were still residual blood stains on his clothes."

Important crew member... Karl, who was lying on the bed, suddenly thought of something, and said in shock:

"Should it, it couldn't be..."

"Probably not."

Fabian, who guessed what he was thinking, shook his head and reassured him with his eyes: "If the captain is in trouble, the third mate who is responsible for assisting the first mate in managing the sailors will never have time to run down below and chat with me."

"In addition, I happened to be near the exit when there was a commotion just now, and I vaguely heard someone shouting the name 'Edward'... I remember that the name of the navigator of the Crown was that name."

"pilot?!"

Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, Karl almost lost his breath.

It goes without saying how important an experienced pilot is to navigation, who understands climate change and ocean current trends, is good at identifying directions at sea without reference objects, and knows how to use the sea breeze to increase ship speed and reduce wasted effort!

The most direct result of the lack of pilots - and they are on the flagship - is that the speed, time and safety of the voyage will be greatly reduced. They may really have to drift at sea for more than two months before arriving at Beluga Port.

Just when he was about to continue asking about the situation, Anson stood up suddenly, put away the Inquisitor's pocket watch that he had been playing with, put on his coat and walked towards the door.

"Fabian, what's the name of the third officer?"

"Skoven, he's a lieutenant colonel." The grenadier commander replied immediately. When he turned around, Anson had already grasped the door handle:

"Are you planning to go out?"

"Go and check out the situation."

Anson responded calmly, no longer looking at the two subordinates with different expressions, and looked back at the girl in the corner: "Lisa."

"Anson?" The girl raised her head and blinked curiously.

"I'll be out for a while and I'll be back soon." Anson smiled and said, "Can you stay with Carl and the others obediently until we do it again?"

"Well, Lisa knows!"

After receiving a positive reply from the girl, Anson felt relieved and then opened the door and left the room.

At this moment, the entire cabin was rolling up and down like a roller coaster, and the passage was completely dark, with only the light and shadow at the end vaguely visible... Anson could only grit his teeth and move closer along the passage in that direction.

Finally, when he was about to reach the exit, he finally saw a crew member guarding the stairs. He was holding a large-caliber shotgun and standing against the wall under the dim kerosene lamp, with an extremely nervous expression.

"who?!"

The crew member who noticed the figure in the darkness immediately raised his gun and shouted. After seeing clearly that the person who came was the Army officer who "rented the boat", he put away his gun and yelled: "What are you doing out here? Didn't I just tell you to let you all come?"

Are you staying well in the cabin?!"

"What happened?"

Anson, who simply ignored the other person's expression and resisted the dizziness, asked, while glancing up the stairs with the corner of his eye.

"Whatever happens has nothing to do with you, it's the navy's business!" the crew member yelled, his pupils trembling slightly: "It's just a little storm, nothing to make a fuss about!"

A little storm?

Anson raised his eyebrows and "accidentally" glanced at the blood stains on the opponent's collar, as well as the right index finger that was always holding the trigger.

"Are you Lieutenant Colonel Scowen?" Anson asked casually, pretending not to see the shotgun in the other person's hand.

"Just now one of my captains said that he heard something moving on the deck, and said..." Anson suddenly paused, and his expression suddenly became serious:

"They also said they heard Captain William Cecil's screams!"

"impossible!"

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Lieutenant Colonel Scovin's eyes widened and he blurted out without thinking: "Master William was given to the first mate and the others right away..."

The words stopped abruptly.

So something really happened, right?

Looking at the crew member who looked obviously unkind, Anson took a deep breath and said, "Lieutenant Colonel Scowen, I just want to..."

"Captain Cecil is fine now, nothing happened outside!"

Lieutenant Colonel Scovin, who realized that he had been fooled, had an extremely ugly expression. His expression seemed to be slightly calmer than before, and he also took off his index finger from the trigger:

"Just go back to your cabin and wait patiently to arrive at Beluga Port!"

Anson pursed his lips tightly, and his eyes followed the shaking cabin, wandering back and forth between Lieutenant Colonel Scovin and the stairwell behind him.

He is now very hesitant to use his powers.

Now the fleet has obviously encountered an unexpected situation that they cannot understand and cannot control. In addition, the navigator is very likely to have been killed. Even if the other party is willing to tell the truth frankly, the communication cost and confusion may actually make the situation worse.

It's even harder to clean up.

But if you use your powers, you have to bear the risk of exposure.

It's not that I'm worried about the talented people with insight abilities on the ship, but that I'm probably going to be discovered by that looming "existence".

How terrifying can a blasphemous mage be? In the words of Thalia Rune, Mace Honnard, the "blasphemous mage", can only be regarded as a baby.

Of course, Anson generally doesn't like to use this metaphor to describe it - if Mace Hornard can only be regarded as a baby, then wouldn't he himself...

What's more, this is a turbulent sea. If the opponent is not even a "blasphemous mage", but a higher level, "apostle" level existence, casually using supernatural powers to attract the opponent's attention is simply the same as actively seeking death.

Not just myself, if the other party really wants to take action, the entire Storm Division and its fleet will be wiped out in one fell swoop.

After hesitating for a few seconds, Anson decisively snapped his right index finger - the magic casting range simultaneously expanded, and images with a radius of thirty meters suddenly flooded into his mind.

At this moment, a black shadow faced where Anson was standing and struck from the top of the stairs towards Lieutenant Colonel Scovin who was blocking him.

"boom!"

"boom!"

Two gunshots exploded in the dead passage, one after another.

It wasn't until he pulled the trigger that Lieutenant Colonel Scovin, who had a splitting headache, realized that he had been thrown to the ground, holding the hot barrel of the gun and trying to understand what had happened just a moment ago.

He slowly raised his gaze. Anson, with a solemn expression, was still standing where he was before, with a silver revolver with an exaggerated barrel in his hand emitting wisps of smoke.

Scovin, who calmed down, took a second to figure out the truth of the matter - he had tripped over him.

"You! You..."

"Snapped!"
To be continued...