Pirate Kingship-Chapter 651 - 457 The Headless Knight and Lancaster’s Collaborator
As his voice faded, a very tall figure stepped out of the "Asphalt Pool." Clad in pure black armor and riding a warhorse of the same color, he held not a sword nor a knight’s lance, but a bloodstained, long-handled battle axe.
Once Saranthe’s reverse scale was touched, he would enter a passive frenzy... like a Mage. Seeing that the apparent mastermind had revealed himself yet remained unfazed, Saranthe, in his Hidden Fish form, pierced through the hippopotamus-like man from back to front. He then continued to brandish his Wolf Fang Club, charging forward atop the churning waves of the Torrent. Like a drill breaking through the sky, he aimed to deal the Black Knight a "Twin Blossom with One Fish" as well.
BOOM!
However, with a thunderous explosion, Saranthe was instantly sent flying backward by the opponent’s axe. The knight, seizing the advantage, relentlessly pursued, waving his bloodstained battle axe straight for the only other two living people there: Byron and Catherine. Upon discovering living people at the scene of the "Death Stranding," his first instinct was to eliminate any witnesses.
With every step the warhorse took, its massive hooves made the building tremble violently, like an out-of-control war chariot. It mercilessly pulverized every Beastman blocking its path into a mist of blood. Clearly, even the mastermind behind the scenes did not wish for the "Death Stranding" to spiral out of control now and expose their larger scheme.
Under Catherine’s command, the six Mithril Guards formed a line, their greatswords held horizontally. They valiantly launched a counter-charge, their momentum in no way inferior to their opponent’s.
To Catherine, money was power.
The six three-meter-tall, solid Mithril Knights were linked by a cascading silver light; their combat power was far beyond that of their earlier, simplified versions. This wave of Mithril might struggle to kill the black-armored knight, but it was enough to forcibly halt his charge. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺
A cavalryman who cannot accelerate is no different from a live target.
The black-armored knight did not hesitate. He immediately changed tactics, raising his hand to place the gleaming battle axe horizontally against his own neck. A wave of murky black Divine Light spread out, enveloping all the Mithril Guards who had advanced within ten meters of him. The six Mithril Knights instantly lost control. Like him, they placed their greatswords against their own necks and, with a concerted effort... chopped off their own heads.
Although the Mithril Guards had no vital points and wouldn’t die from decapitation, the action temporarily threw them off balance, sending them tumbling into a heap on the ground. The black-armored knight, however, remained unharmed and continued his high-speed charge. After his head was supposedly cut off, his helmet was revealed to be empty. He never had a head in the first place! This was actually a [Headless Knight].
Information about the opponent also appeared in Byron’s Sailing Logbook:
"[Curse Spirit·Headless Knight]
Traits: Undying.
Murder Rule: Upon coming within a ten-meter radius and remaining for two seconds, one will be controlled with one hundred percent certainty, forced to cut off one’s own head. Only the headless can escape this fate."
Saranthe had been sent flying too quickly just now, so the rule hadn’t been triggered for him.
And since this was a Curse Spirit, it was clear that the one speaking moments ago was not it. There was someone else—more precisely, there had to be a master manipulating it from behind.
"To avoid accidents, let’s end this quickly. Whistling Deity’s Descent!"
A ring of light exploded above Byron’s head. His eyes narrowed; he could already clearly discern the death lines on this Curse Spirit. He raised the [Roaring Tide] in his hand high above his head.
SWOOSH...
A wild wind coursed through the building, instantly connecting with the torrential rain raging outside. Countless Storm Elves danced, leaped, and spiraled upon his sword blade. The long sword moved like a needle threading silk, reweaving the wisps of wind and rain between heaven and earth, only to detonate it all in an instant. A sharp, invisible sword wind surged forth. The piercing blast nearly ruptured eardrums. Two wings suddenly unfurled behind him, and Byron’s figure, which had stood ready for battle, vanished on the spot.
WHOOSH—!
In the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind the Headless Knight like a ghostly shadow. It was as if a video had glitched and skipped frames, completely omitting the intermediate process. Two chilling trails of wind, carrying a mass of white vapor like a pair of wings, roared and exploded outward behind him. They dispersed the mist and dust, revealing a massive, intersecting cross etched into the stone floor beneath. The figure of the Headless Knight was positioned precisely at the center of this cross.
[Secret Sword Technique·Crucifix Execution]
When Byron stood still again, his sword returned to its scabbard. Only then did silvery blood and eerie green ghost fire belatedly burst forth, forming a horizontal and a vertical gory line across the Headless Knight’s chest.
SCRITCH—!
Then, the headless body and the warhorse beneath it were neatly sectioned into four pieces. However, while this bizarre entity had been a normal Spiritual Body in mid-air, upon hitting the ground, it transformed into a pool of pitch-black ink that seeped into the stone floor and vanished without a trace.
The Sailing Logbook subsequently added a line of text:
"Third Painted Spirit. Creator: [Hell Painter] Leonardo."
Byron was taken aback.
This Curse Spirit, capable of flinging a Third Order Transcendent with a single move, is actually the work of a Hall Sequence [Painter]? It’s said that the most famous major at the Vinaia Art Academy is painting. Not to mention the official students, even those who fail the entrance exams possess strength that is not to be underestimated. A High Sequence [Painter] can paint with such realism that even creations of gold and silver can maintain their appearance for several years. Not even the Gold Sequence [Golden Eye] could spot any flaws. Painted palaces and manors could become habitable. Painted flowers would smell fragrant, and painted birds could fly... It’s another form of having one’s wishes come true.
New questions quickly surfaced in his mind:
But why would a [Painter] of at least the Fourth Order come to Kingston to stir up trouble? And where did they obtain the forbidden knowledge? Such a figure isn’t someone ordinary people can afford to hire. The secret files mention a Death Stranding incident occurring amidst the disputes of the two parties. This suggests with high probability that the mastermind behind it is either the Royalist Party or the Earl’s Party.
As this thought emerged, the Decryption Rate suddenly jumped to 38%.
At this moment, Saranthe also climbed up from the ground and shouted to Byron, "Captain, the Sun and the Storm are the deadliest enemies of the Deep Sea! After slaughtering all the Lost Ones, use these two positive energies to cleanse this connection point and sever the Death Stranding."
"Understood." Byron responded. He was just about to summon the [Sure-hit Spear, Gungnir] to capture lightning with a copper wire and deliver another dose of Heavenly Justice.
Suddenly, a chanting voice reached his ears:
"Faced with mighty foes, fearless and undaunted!"
"Valiant and loyal, worthy of the Holy Father!"
"Candid and righteous, preferring death to deceit!"
"Protectors of the weak, aligning with the heavens..."
When Byron first heard the voice, its source was still at the very edge of his Divine Sight. In the time it took to utter those few lines, they had already broken through the blockade of the Wings of Death. The next moment, a burst of pure Holy Light descended from the sky, striking the underground space.
SIZZLE... SIZZLE...
The roiling Asphalt Pool, upon encountering the Holy Light, seemed to meet its nemesis and was instantaneously and utterly dispelled. Only a heap of tattered human and beast corpses remained on the spot. The expressions on their faces seemed somewhat more peaceful.
Then, the feather-like Holy Light contracted, revealing a somewhat gaunt, middle-aged knight. He had silver-grey short hair and looked to be slightly over forty. Time had carved especially deep traces on his face, which was full of the signs of hardship, as though he had never known a good day. The silver Knight Armor he wore was covered in mottled scars. It bore witness to the many brutal battles he had survived, yet he lacked the means to repair it. If encountered on the roadside, one would definitely assume he was a destitute knight of the lowest rank. But in this situation, no one dared to look down on him. The effects of the knight’s creed he had just chanted unequivocally verified that the newcomer was a Fourth-order Heroic [Holy Knight] of the Order of Sanctity!
Whether [Oath Knights] or [Storm Knights], all knightly paths under the Ladder of Glory originated with the Church’s Holy Knights. In essence, it was never about training the body, but rather a spiritual practice centered on a vowed core. The stricter the observed precepts, the greater the power gained. And once a vow was broken, that power would rapidly decay. The reason the Church’s [Holy Knights] stood at the apex of all knights was their strict adherence to all virtues and precepts.
"Humility, honesty, mercy, valor, justice, sacrifice, honor, faith!"
The strongest among them even possess bodies as mighty as Giant Dragons and wield indestructible Holy Swords. With sheer willpower derived from spiritual practice alone, they can be invincible in the Fifth-order Legend realm, their swords cleaving through all magic!
Of course, overly idealistic beliefs also meant they had to stay far from the secular world, embarking on an austere life of asceticism. Otherwise, their fairy-tale ideals and the horror-movie reality would clash violently, leading to mental breakdown before any growth could occur. And every [Holy Knight] who could walk in the secular world had already constructed a logically self-consistent belief system, in every sense worthy of being called a flawless Sage.
For this reason, Holy Knights and Ascetic Monks are the very foundation of the Church’s existence. It is precisely because of these role models of moral integrity—those who embody the unity of knowledge and action—that the Church’s lofty status has been firmly established. They are also the heroes who "bear the burden for others," as in the cliché that has almost been worn thin. The Church has not been ruined by priests with a penchant for young boys and by Indulgence Certificates, thanks in large part to their monumental contributions.
Just like this middle-aged [Holy Knight] who had come alone; despite appearing extremely down and out, his eyes were as clear and bright as a baby’s. Most crucially, both he and Catherine knew this man. More accurately, he was one of the Protestant Doctrine collaborators the Lancaster Family had once supported!
