Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 11 The Slaughter at the Port

The sun hadn't risen yet, and darkness still shrouded the sea when Harry suddenly awoke. He gasped for breath, a nameless fear creeping over him. He felt a chill run through him, and looking down, he found himself drenched in cold sweat—it was all so strange.

He got up, changed his clothes, and patted his face. He clearly remembered that he had meditated before going to bed last night, and he should have slept very well. It was impossible for him to wake up so early, and the state he was in when he woke up felt like he had just escaped a nightmare.

The problem is that I don't remember having any nightmares at all. Moreover, after meditating, I feel mentally refreshed and only my body is tired, so it's impossible for me to dream!

However, the fear remained real within him; he was terrified, certain that something bad was about to happen. He took his magic wand from his luggage and put on the wooden silk mage robe he had taken off. Sensing the abundant wood-elemental energy around him, he absorbed it generously. In no time, he felt his magic power was full.

Wearing a mage's robe, holding a magic wand, and possessing the strength of a level three mage, he felt more confident. The fear in his heart, like the thin mist on the sea, melted away as soon as the sun came out.

The sun was rising, and the sky in the distance was beginning to lighten. He heard hurried footsteps outside the cabin. So early, the first-class VIP cabin shouldn't be disturbed by such noises; something must have happened.

The sound continued for a while, then stopped. After a short interval, footsteps sounded again. Harry opened the hatch, wondering what had happened. As soon as he stepped into the corridor, he saw Duke Langton leading several attendants briskly towards him. The Duke's usual composed and elegant demeanor was gone, replaced by a bowed head, a tightly furrowed brow, and pursed lips, his face full of worry.

"Your Grace, what has happened?"

The Duke of Langton looked up and saw Harry asking the question, and replied in a low voice,

"The cardinal died to save Arthas."

The Duke showed no sign of stopping as he spoke, clearly not wanting to discuss the matter further. Harry, understanding the situation, refrained from pressing the issue and watched the Duke walk away.

Harry knew Arthas was the elven prince, but the duke's answer only deepened his doubts. How could a cardinal die to save a bloodthirsty elven prince? Harry knew that among the followers of the Goddess of Light, besides the Pope and the goddess, the highest-ranking were the four cardinals, and it was no exaggeration to say that this cardinal's status was even higher than the duke's.

Besides their extraordinary status, these cardinals were all highly skilled in magic. It's no wonder the Duke was worried that such a person would die on the Duke's ship. However, the Duke of Langdon's answer was cryptic, which puzzled Harry.

Even more bewildered than Harry was Duke Langdon. Damn it, he hadn't expected the elven curse to be so powerful; neither he nor the cardinal had been able to find a way to lift it. It seemed those elves were determined to kill Arthas.

What surprised her even more was the cardinal's choice. Arthas couldn't die, of course; if he did, the Arcanos Empire would face an unprecedented catastrophe. But what Duke Landon hadn't expected was that the cardinal would willingly sacrifice his own life for Arthas's survival. Were all these clergymen truly insane?

……

The sun finally hung high on the distant horizon, and the port of Genoa was already bustling with activity that morning. Fishing boats returning from the sea unloaded their catch, which they had gathered overnight, and sold it in baskets on the spot. Merchants from all over the province of Grenoble crowded around, selecting their catch and skillfully haggling with the boatmen. The salty sea breeze, carrying the distinctive pungent smell of fish, wafted through the air, and a cacophony of noise rose and fell.

With the Alexander Langton about to dock, the port was packed with passengers disembarking, their relatives coming to pick them up, and those boarding for long journeys or seeing them off.

The ship began to slow down, and its sails were slowly lowered. This huge, cumbersome vessel, however, moved with the precision of a blade sheathing itself, steadily approaching the designated area. The crew on deck had already prepared the heavy mooring lines.

As the first mate's booming command, "Drop the mooring line!" rang out, the heavy cable flew from the ship's side, tracing a powerful arc in the air. Dockworkers deftly caught the rope and secured it firmly to the mooring bollard. The winch began to turn, the cable gradually tightened, and the massive ship, like a tamed beast, slowly approached the shore.

Once the ship had come to a complete stop, the massive gangway was pushed over and placed between the ship and the dock, making a heavy thud.

The port officials in charge of registration and inspection lined up to wait. In the past, they had always been arrogant when people boarded or disembarked, or when cargo was loaded or unloaded. Each time, they would finish with extra silver coins in their pockets. If they were lucky, and the ship was large with a lot of cargo, or if some contraband that couldn't be recorded in the logbook appeared, they might even receive a few gold coins. But today, their smugness was completely hidden. They had already received word that the Duke was on board, and they had arrived at the port early to wait. Their obedient expressions didn't resemble those of imperial officials, but rather those of students who had made a mistake at a knightly academy.

Harry was overjoyed to finally be back on land after being at sea for so long. The upper deck door was already open, and although only Miss Catherine and Harry disembarked, according to custom, the lower deck door would not open until all the first-class passengers had disembarked.

Duke Langton led the way up the gangway, with Harry, dressed in his shimmering silk robes and holding a magic wand in his right hand, following behind Miss Catherine. Although the upper gangway had only just opened, the commoners below erupted in cheers and whistles, as if setting the stage for the confrontation to come.

As they stepped ashore, the port registrar bowed respectfully to the Duke, who simply nodded to them before turning to the two disembarking men and smiling, saying, "I hope it has been a pleasant voyage for you."

Just as the two were about to express their gratitude to the Duke, they suddenly noticed that the harbor had become quiet. The eyes of the crowd on the harbor were all fixed on the direction of the ship, and even the Duke of Langton shifted his gaze from Harry and his companion, slowly looking upwards.

Harry turned around and, following the Duke's gaze, saw a tall figure on the upper deck. Even though they were dozens of meters apart, Harry could tell that the man was at least a head taller than him. He had a broad frame and fair skin, but not the pale white of someone who hadn't been exposed to much sunlight; rather, it was a sickly, bloodless pallor, clearly indicating that the man was somewhat weak.

His long, silvery-white hair cascaded down his back. His features were refined and distinct, but his emerald green eyes held no vitality. He wore a dark green suit of armor, covered in indecipherable patterns, perhaps resembling magic circles, as Harry noticed elemental energy flickering on the semi-openwork armor. Even beneath the armor, his well-defined muscles and long, powerful arms revealed boundless strength.

Judging by these features alone, he would be the epitome of a handsome knight—unless it were his distinctive ears. It was precisely those ears that instantly silenced the crowded throng. Due to the ship's design, the upper decks were slightly recessed compared to the lower decks, so when people on the lower decks crowded along the bulwarks, they could easily see those on the upper decks by simply looking up, thus quieting down the passengers on the lower decks as well.

Those ears were several times larger than normal human ears. They were wide at the base and gradually narrowed upwards, forming a sharp yet gentle tip at the very top. They were a pair of large, pointed, long ears!

Upon seeing those peculiar ears, everyone understood the man's identity.

These aren't human ears! They're elves! They're the elf prince! The bloodthirsty elf prince!

Duke Langdon looked at Arthas as he emerged, took a few steps forward, and stood in front of Harry and Catherine. Harry tightened his grip on his wand.

Looking at the quiet crowd, the Elf Prince on the deck suddenly smiled. His smile wasn't the kind that starts in the eyes and spreads across the entire face; rather, it began at the corners of his mouth and spread upwards, but his eyes held an extreme chill. Harry felt the temperature around him drop, and his own body seemed to grow cold.

Then, in just a moment—

The elf prince, who was just on the deck, vanished into thin air and was now hovering above the ship! His speed was beyond the range of visual perception!

The elven prince in mid-air drew a sharp sword from his waist and, without warning or preparation, swiftly unleashed two sword strikes—one aimed directly at the giant ship on the sea, and the other flew towards the bustling figures at the port.

The movement was so fast that it was beyond visual perception; Harry couldn't even tell which sword came first. The two swords were unleashed simultaneously, as if they had been struck at the same time.

When the Duke of Langdon saw the Elf Prince ascend into the air, he cried out, "Oh no!" At the same time, he immediately ascended into the air as well, making various hand gestures in a manner that Harry could not understand, while simultaneously uttering a string of words from his mouth that Harry could not comprehend.

Her voice was like a dull knife being sharpened on gravel, low and rough, with a gurgling, phlegmy sound rolling in her throat. Each word was like a heavy stone being forcefully pounded down, short and explosive, often accompanied by heavy snorting or low gurgling sounds between words. It was as if fangs were obstructing the clear labiodental sounds, making the words sound indistinct, but the power contained within was like an invisible fist, pounding straight into the listener's chest. All of this formed a stark contrast with the Duke of Langton's curvaceous figure.

As she chanted the incantation, a huge, transparent arc of light appeared in front of her—a defensive barrier.