Extraordinary Voyage-Chapter 714 - 614: Forbidden · Bloodline Curse

South of the Ilya Kingdom, outside an unknown seaside town.

Hoo—

After receiving the sorcery signal sent from the front lines, a fleet of four three-masted armed merchant ships raised their sails and slowly set out. The flags flying on the ships indicated their allegiance — Heimar Kingdom.

But in reality, all the crew and passengers aboard were Ilyans.

And among the passengers, most were close family members of the Ilya Republic’s highest authority, the "Constitutional Assembly".

Even the families of the two Speakers were among them.

Facing the increasingly chilly sea breeze.

A tall young man, exuding a heroic spirit in his hunting attire, stood on the stern deck, watching silently as his country grew smaller behind him. However, the wooden railing he gripped creaked continuously, indicating that his heart was far from as calm as his face suggested.

"Only three months, has the rise of the Nierco Clan come to such an abrupt end?"

The young Atman Nierco, eldest son of the Nierco Clan, had achieved the level of Senior Official Knight at a remarkable young age. Moreover, with his father’s support, he had risen to become a battleship captain in the Ilya Navy, a testament to his excellence.

However, his presence here clearly indicated he had not participated in the northern war, but was instead arranged in this unknown town along with the other family members of the Assembly members before the pivotal "Nation-Building Battle" for the Republic’s fate began.

Until today, they received the news they least wanted to hear.

A powerful military force, composed of two Tier 4 Transcendents, former Kingdom Navy, the Black Sea Pirate King’s fleet, and an army of ghouls, had been defeated so easily!

This defeat meant decades of effort by the commercial nobility had gone to waste, and these family members with vested interests had no choice but to embark on a path of exile.

At this moment, everyone faced an uncertain future.

Suddenly.

Bang!

"Ah—"

Following the dull thud of a heavy object hitting the ground, a sweet and clear young woman’s scream rang out.

Already in a foul mood while alone in the breeze, Atman was now gloomy enough to drip water after being disturbed.

Turning around to look.

On the main deck, a beautiful noble lady with the Gregory Clan’s distinctive ice-blue long hair, though young, was dressed as a married woman, clutching her chest like a startled doe.

A barefooted, roughly clad merchant ship crewman stood to the side, looking panicked, his ruddy face full of fear.

A barrel lay rolling at their feet.

For a former navy captain, discerning what had just occurred wasn’t difficult.

Though the war didn’t start abruptly, gathering sufficient supplies and ensuring the safe assembly of these pampered family members took a great toll on the accompanying staff.

It was also quite usual for some supplies stacked on the deck to be slowly moved to the hold after setting sail.

Especially since the vessel’s departure is the busiest time on a sailing ship, passengers are typically expected to stay in their cabins rather than add to the chaos on deck.

Clearly, this lady did not heed that directive.

However, Atman frowned and ordered the family guards who had rushed over after hearing the news:

"Throw this fool who offended Madam Jerome into the sea!"

Two guards, fierce as wolves, immediately advanced together, grabbing the crewman, who was pleading, "Spare me!", "Spare me!", and directly tossed him into the cold seawater.

Splash!

Without any regard for the fact that in this high-latitude region at the turn of autumn and winter, no amount of swimming skill could save the crewman from the water.

Despite knowing very well who was right or wrong, Atman adhered more thoroughly to the Nierco Clan’s teachings: "Ask not of right or wrong, only of allegiance!"

Afterwards.

The young man’s expression changed, now resembling a chivalrous knight saving a damsel in distress. He elegantly approached the noble lady and slightly bowed:

"Madam, I apologize for my oversight in allowing these coarse lower-decks men to wander the ship.

You must also be troubled by worries over Mr. Speaker’s safety.

However, fear not. Emergency teleportation channels exist within the guild. Perhaps when we reach the Heimar Kingdom, we will find Mr. Speaker already waiting for us there.

The view from the stern deck is nice. Would you care to join me for a stroll?"

The tall, handsome former navy officer was obviously preferable to that old man scarcely younger than her father, embodying the martial noble family’s ideal more closely.

"Then I’ll trouble you, Mr. Nierco.""

The young, beautiful noble lady smiled slightly, her eyes twinkling, allowing herself to be led by her slender arm up to the stern deck by Atman.

...

West coast of Ilya, Black Stone Town.

Ten years had passed, and the traces left by the Night of Blood and Fire had almost vanished. Apart from the ancestral home of the Galliot family, now a white expanse, the buildings once burned to the ground had long been rebuilt.

Even the lasting prosperity brought by the exploitation of a large iron mine had led to the expansion of residential areas, its scale now far beyond the past. Yet the residents here were no longer the Galliot family’s vassals.

The northeast corner of town was a long-deserted cemetery, its gravestones weathered, wild grass rampant, speaking of desolation and decay everywhere.

But this was the cemetery where the ancestors of the Galliot family were buried.

Sh—

Three figures suddenly emerged there.

Bam!

The middle-aged man they casually carried was thrown to the ground now covered in dry grass.

Wright looked quite disheveled, shirt buttons missing, hair unkempt, several cuts on his face, all thanks to his accomplices’ handiwork.

Aiven, after all, did not tell the truth. Even without Wright, he wouldn’t have allowed this group to leave. He had handed them over to the main force following behind and then brought Wright alone here.

This was also where it all began.

"Haha, ten years ago, I made the mistake of being careless. Now that I’ve lost, I have no complaints, but ten years later, we shall begin again."

Wright, once on his feet and seeing where he was, accepted his fate calmly, exhibiting a bit of magnanimity befitting a failed hero.

He had long planned for his family’s safe passage, with elders, siblings, and nephews having gone to the continent years earlier, and his eldest son, the last to leave, should now be on the sea.

On the vast ocean, how easy would it be to find them?

The Nierco family had already made their mark in the business world two generations ago, and with the painstaking efforts of three generations, they now possess the power to challenge the royal family and become one of the founders of the Ilya Republic.

Some even call them, along with Jerome, the two founding fathers of the Ilya Republic.

Although they eventually failed, the fault was not theirs.

Leading the family as a Knight with ordinary talent to this point meant that his life had been worthwhile.

The descendants of the family would rely on the vast resources he amassed for them to quickly grow, and there could be a day in the future when they counterattack and settle old scores!

His composed and generous manner of facing death was not what Aiven wanted to see. His eyes narrowed dangerously:

"Oh? It seems the Nierco family’s foundation is indeed substantial, allowing you to harbor unrealistic hopes. But you seem to have misunderstood one event."

Wright’s face suddenly changed, and he had a bad premonition:

"What do you want to do?"

"After experiencing this three-month farcical drama, you should have learned not to question the power of the Extraordinary with a mortal’s perspective, especially the might of a Great Wizard."

Rushing sound...

Before Aiven, the pages of the inherited Magic Book "Flesh Sacrifice" swiftly turned.

"Altar, unfold!"

Scarlet light surged from the Magic Book, overflowing bands of light forming intricate runes, techniques, and arrays, slowly transforming into a tree-like three-dimensional trajectory.

Aiven reached out and flicked a drop of Wright’s blood into the center of the trajectory.

The ominous scarlet glow swiftly circulated within it.

[Tier 3 Witchcraft: Bloodline Curse]

This was also the first time Aiven used this witchcraft on a human since he created it.

Whoosh—

Accompanied by the Spiritual Wind blowing through the void, an illusory double helix structure slowly extended from the trajectory, one end connecting to the altar and the other extending into the void.

Comparing this double helix structure would reveal that it matched a segment of Wright’s genetic code exactly.

"Mr. Wright, put away your arrogant posture. You are not a hero or a reformer, just a complete villain. Repent! To the people you persecuted and the ancestors of the Galliot family!"

noli—

With the blood-scented curse, the invisible power shot through the void.

A curse technique used by an Upper-Rank Wizard almost no longer had geographical restrictions.

In the next moment.

The young man at the ship’s stern, laughing and chatting with a noble lady, suddenly grabbed his throat and collapsed.

His face gradually turned pale, struggling and convulsing like a fish out of water...

"Ah—!"

The beautiful noble lady screamed again.

In the distant Heimar Kingdom Dastir School (Spiritual Cultivation School) station, a boy studying witchcraft knowledge with a group of classmates suddenly fell to the ground.

When his Formal Wizard teacher frantically called the School Chief in a panic.

"Mr. Chief, what’s wrong with Nierco? Please, save him. Mr. Wright has covered the school’s entire three-year material expenses."

The only response was the Chief’s death sentence:

"How can more Golden Lions compete with the hatred of a Great Wizard? Refund all his donations to the school tomorrow... oh, seems there’s no place to refund to.

Just pretend we never saw this person."

The middle-aged gentleman conversing with a business partner in the Hilus Kingdom...

No matter where they were, blood relatives within the three direct generations (parent, sibling, and nephew or niece) could not escape.

Of course.

Even the Curse School, which excelled most in this field, found direct killing came at a cost.

The principle of [Bloodline Curse] was to squeeze a person’s life force, giving the human body’s macrophages extraordinary activity, starting to attack normal red blood cells, decomposing all the hemoglobin that carries oxygen.

Indirect killing was even more painful than direct killing.

Due to the bloodline connection, Wright shared in that pain, as each blood relative passed, a portion of his red blood cells decomposed in sync.

At this moment, he was no longer composed, snot and tears flowing, muttering incoherently:

"No, I was wrong! Spare me, spare me, I beg you, stop it—!"

Bang!

However, with all blood relatives gone, the now paper-pale Wright collapsed, pupils dilated, consciousness blurred, breathing labored, heartbeat slowing.

Aiven nodded to his sister.

Anita, also part of the revenge, lifted her longsword and swung it down.

Swish— 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Perhaps he never dreamed that the bloodbath sparked by an iron mine would come to this.

"Father, Mother, Grandpa Leo, ten years... it’s finally over! Woooo..."

Surveying the mottled tombstones in the cemetery, the always-strong Anita buried herself in Aiven’s arms, crying like a child.

...

High above the naval battlefield.

"Kshatriya, it’s evident you’ve completely lost; the power of [Capital] is not that invincible."

The Slaughter Angel, with a blank expression, had stepped out of the shadow of defeat and shrugged:

"It doesn’t matter. Although this round is lost, the spark of [Capital] has ignited, the fragile feudal royal authority will retreat step by step, and the fire of change will eventually burn across the world."

"Really? Then let’s wait and see."

Saint Angel Bellenus smiled gently, with profound implications.