Lord Shenxiu-Chapter 532: Action (Please Subscribe)

Mojito Mansion.

"Lord O’Neill?"

Zhong Shenxiu stroked the returning Mengde’s head, recalling the intelligence tracked and gathered about the other party.

This lord was originally a great merchant and was said to be a descendant of the nobility, albeit a fallen one.

However, the man was a living legend in the kingdom, having earned a vast fortune through several risky investments.

Eventually, after donating a large sum of gold pounds to the royal family, the church, and the Noble Council, he was declared to possess noble blood and was granted the title of lord.

’It sounds like a tale of a lucky fellow from an inspirational story, but there are never lucky people without reason... Is this his secret?’

Zhong Shenxiu pondered for a moment and then commanded, "Continue surveillance, he is only a Tier 4 extraordinary person and won’t detect your presence, but be cautious, there must be higher-ranking figures behind him!"

"Woof... With the protection of my master and my own special abilities, no extraordinary person below a demigod can detect me."

Mengde barked pleasingly and disappeared into the void.

...

Half a month later.

Kaleston, outskirts.

Blake, dressed in a black and red officer’s uniform, was participating in a military escort mission ordered from above.

This escort mission was very special; as a senior officer, he was directly informed that they were to transport an extremely dangerous cursed object.

Its negative effects... were very powerful!

’The top brass must have their heads up their asses to assign my Third Battalion to such a task...’

Though he himself was an extraordinary person, a Tier 3 "Swordsman," and the Third Battalion boasted elite security troops, each soldier well-trained and equipped with the latest flintlock muskets fitted with bayonets, Blake still felt it was extremely dangerous.

After all, he knew that his kind of troop, though formidable against ordinary people on the battlefield,

was as fragile as scarecrows against the real powerhouses of the mysterious world.

Perhaps a gust of wind could scatter them all down.

’The only hope is that the extraordinary persons dispatched by the church and the royal family are powerful enough...’

With that thought, he spurred his white steed and moved to the center of the formation, approaching the heavily guarded massive carriage.

Despite certain seals being applied, fearing that a broken seal would cause heavy casualties among the civilians, they did not transport the cursed object via steam trains or other public transit facilities but chose the more primitive method of livestock transportation instead.

Eight warhorses pulled a gigantic carriage, draped on all sides by curtains.

With a gentle breeze lifting a corner of the black curtains, Blake could see a huge, pitch-black coffin seemingly made entirely of black metal.

It was wrapped in numerous chains, like numerous seals.

Yet even so, intense struggling sounds emitted from the coffin every now and then, as if something alive, or rather... a beast, was concealed inside!

Only the joint efforts of the extraordinary persons from both the royal family and the church could barely soothe it.

"Boss!"

A soldier spotted Blake and ran over to salute.

"How are things?"

Blake casually returned the salute and asked.

"That damned thing caused trouble again half an hour ago; it took us three minutes to calm it down..." the soldier grimaced: "We are quite worried..."

After all, even ordinary people knew the horror of a cursed object!

"In another hour, we will arrive at the Royal Capital... I’ll give each of you three days of leave then... you can enjoy Kaleston’s fine wines and the charms of its women to your heart’s content..."

Blake grinned vulgarly, making a promise.

Just then, it seemed like a strong wind was whistling in his ears.

"There’s wind!"

Blake thought idly, feeling the strong wind brushing past.

The wind lifted the corners of his garments, mixed with falling leaves.

The withered leaves now seemed to bear a somber and sharp hue, giving off a very dangerous feeling. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

The wild wind continued.

Leaves swirled, suddenly mixed with large splashes of blood.

"Enemy... attack!"

Blake saw the soldier before him as leaves sliced off arms and large chunks of flesh, clothing, and bright red flesh from his shoulders, revealing ghastly white bones, his pupils suddenly dilating.

He drew his sword from his waist, letting out a roar.

From the western-style foil, a strong halo burst forth, shielding his entire body.

But like him, only a few powerful beings were extraordinary.

Those soldiers could face gunfire fearlessly, lining up to shoot enemy soldiers, criminals, and low-ranking extraordinaries... but they couldn’t withstand natural disasters!

Large amounts of human bodies were dismembered and fell, quickly staining the land red.

"Damn, where are the Church’s extraordinaries?"

Blake roared, seeing those powerful extraordinaries not seeking out the enemy but merely guarding the carriage.

It seemed as though the cargo being transported was more important than the soldiers.

Although he also understood this was the case, a flame suddenly surged in his heart.

"Wind Speaker..."

A church Cultivator dressed in sackcloth opened his murky eyes, looking toward a maple forest ahead.

Underneath the shade, Lord O’Neill had disguised himself, spreading his arms as if embracing the hurricane, suddenly bowing, "Teacher..."

His teacher, who had lent him a helping hand during his troubled times, was also a powerful extraordinary from the Western Court Empire, the fifth-ranked "Son of the Wind"!

Around the carriage, invisible portals opened, and several wind spirits, whose upper bodies were human and lower bodies were whirlwinds, surged forward toward the extraordinaries.

Immediately, a cloaked figure floating under a cloak stealthily appeared, his hands moving as if plucking harp strings, stirring the winds.

Whoosh, whoosh!

A powerful tornado formed, instantly sweeping up the huge carriage.

The horses neighed in panic and ran off, the steel coffin heavily smashing onto the ground, its chains cut by the Wind Blade.

"He... he wants to open the seal of the cursed object, to disrupt us."

An extraordinary from the royal family waved his hand, his surroundings becoming illusory, ancient spirits walking out from it.

The fifth-ranked "Angel Envoy" of the Pastor could further borrow the Spirit Realm’s power, even forming their own large undead army!

Countless undead stretched out their pale palms, trying to grab the "Son of the Wind," but it was already too late.

A lightning bolt struck down, the huge metal coffin split into pieces, revealing a dry, emaciated body inside, but... without a shroud!

That dried corpse suddenly opened its eyes, amber pupils staring fixedly at the "Son of the Wind"!

The floating body of the opponent stiffened at once, his thoughts as if injected with a heavy paste...

"No... shroud... it’s... a trap..."

Just then, he saw a streak of light speeding from the city direction, and inside it, a figure in a splendid ecclesiastical robe, his face filled with despair, "Just... a mere... cursed object... why... would it alarm such a presence?"

The newcomer was Archbishop Klado Tisamo from the Door of Ten Thousand, a ’Demigod’!

"A ’Son of the Wind’ from the Western Court Empire?"

Klado gently waved his hand, and several Cultivators on the ground hurriedly bowed in salute, then rushed toward the maple forest where O’Neill was hiding.

His gaze was clear as he looked at the "Son of the Wind," his voice hoarse, "Tell me... who instigated the assassination of Mr. Bonk that day!"

"How would I know?" The "Son of the Wind" looked baffled, he had only come to rob a cursed object, he had never assassinated a councilman!

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