novelFlaunting cruelness
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Translator: Translation Nation Editor: Translation Nation
Alan Dale might not have left a direct impression on anyone, but he was definitely a fresh memory in the head of Sheyan's old First Mate, Scarface Harry. After all, the scar on Scarface Harry's face was left behind by Alan Dale after a brawl!
Ammand was also an expert in western style sword arts. Once in the past, during a rowdy proclamation while drinking in a bar, Alan Dale had willfully slandered that Ammand wouldn't be able to last ten seconds in a sword fight with him.
Coincidentally, First Mate Harry was drinking in that same bar. Naturally, being loyal to Ammand, Harry wouldn't rest upon hearing that; hence, the two started brawling.
Eventually, the outcome was Alan Dale receiving a fist to his chest. Merely, that fist wasn't a light one, as Scarface Harry had delivered the fist while using his barbaric 'Flesh Explosion' ability. Having taken such a direct blow, Alan Dale's body deteriorated day by day, thereby turning hunched and weak.
On the contrary, Harry had to live eternally carrying a deep scar on his face. Although their brawling ultimately resulted in Alan Dale receiving the worse end of the straw, one could tell his skills were also extraordinary.
Following the uproar of the crowd, Alan Dale skillfully drew back his rapier. Blacksail collapsed to the ground with a twitching complexion, with blood profusely pouring out beneath his body, and soaking a huge patch of the deck.
Alan Dale then covered his mouth and coughed lightly, before ordering his subordinate.
"Hang'em on the mast. Only release him once the sea breeze dries him up."
Ten plus pirates behind him immediately swarmed forward. Suddenly, 7-8 of Sheyan's pirate underlings came strutting out from the ship's hold, all of which were aiming across with their Mauser rifles. Their leader was the former marine officer, Philip, whose body was as straight as a ramrod. Without caring for anything, he charged up and furiously bellowed.
"Who dares to touch a single one of ours, will be reduced to a honeycomb!"
Alan Dale released a sneer as he abruptly seized Blacksail, prompting Philip to refrain from shooting at the rat for fear of breaking the vases. Pushing Blacksail towards the aiming muzzles of those mauser rifles, Alan Dale himself cowered behind his hostage.
With a glint of metallic flash, his rapier suddenly thrusted out from the side of Blacksail's face towards Philip's throat.
Philip was also an expert of the sword, thus, he immediately reacted to block with his rifle front. Instead, Alan Dale retracted his rapier, as its blade smoothly stroke against the rifle barrel; emitting sparks and a profound scratch mark, before he proceeded to stab towards Philip's lower belly.
Executing a miserable backward roll, Philip scarcely evaded the stab.
Instead, the thrusting speed of Alan Dale's rapier became increasingly faster. Having just stabbed forward, it was as though he didn't require time to retract his rapier before another stab came rushing in; inevitably heading towards the middle of Philip's brows!
Yet out of nowhere, a fiery bullet streaked in. Dang! It knocked and deviated Alan Dale's thrusting rapier away.
"Chi! Chi!" Within a short span of time, sounds of streaking bullets filled the air. Knowing that another formidable foe had arrived, Alan Dale decided to hurriedly kill of the two opponents before him.
Instead, those streaking bullets didn't spare him a chance; like parasitic maggots, they threatened to infiltrate Alan Dale's body. During that instance, he realized that if he didn't wish to get shot, he had to withdraw, he had no choice but to withdraw!
Eventually, the gunfire sounds faded away. When Alan Dale raised his head, he immediately saw a black man with pearly white teeth, who was leisurely blowing away the fumes from his rifle muzzle. When he turned back to Blacksail and Philip, he realized someone was now obstructing him.
With hands folded across his chest, this person seemed rather sturdy. His eyes were abnormally bright, and his gaze issued an impression of despise. Unknown why, Alan Dale felt like a tremendous mountain had collapsed down from the heavens, pressurizing down onto him; a feeling of blatant discomfort.
He instantly pulled out his rapier, as he scowled with a malicious glare.
"Who be ye?"
Sheyan ignored him, but turned his attention towards the retreating Hawser beside. Striding a step forward, he reached out and caught Hawser by the shoulder.
Releasing a strange scream, Hawser drew his broadsword and hacked against Sheyan. Neither dodging or evading, Sheyan gently slanted his head and allowed the broadsword to hack down onto his shoulder blade.
Blood flowed down from Sheyan's shoulders, but when Hawser attempted to retract his broadsword, he frightfully discovered his broadsword was embedded into the opposition's shoulder. It was completely unmovable! Sheyan then seized Hawser by his shoulders, before tugging him over and releasing a heavy punch towards his face.
Such a punch directly sent the bulky Hawser flying for 2-3 metres; flipping several rounds, as few yellowish tooth mixed with blood and saliva spewed out from his mouth after smashing against the wooden deck.
At this moment, Alan Dale's figure blurred, as he stabbed towards Sheyan's back. Sheyan's present agility wasn't weak at all. He easily gripped the incoming rapier, and without turning his head, he reassured.
"Don't be in a rush, it will be your turn soon."
While he spoke, he retrieved his long saber and advanced continuously towards Hawser!
How destructive was the might of his +7 long saber? Blade rays flashed out alongside the repeated blood-curdling screams of Hawser.
Alan Dale fumed as he forcefully drew back his rapier, believing that his opponent's five fingers, gripped onto his rapier blade, would be severed without exception. Yet the cruel reality was that only a trifling line of blood painted his rapier blade!
While Alan Dale frantically thrusted again, Sheyan continued to disregard him by blatantly employing his naked left hand to block. Though Alan Dale's bewitching rapier stabbed out multitudes of blood wounds onto his arm, it failed to deal any grave damages!
The spectating pirates around looked on with fright. On the contrary, Sheyan's pirate crew was wildly cheering with yells of soaring excitement!
Within a short duration, Hawser was reduced to mere gasps and wails, having no strength to retaliate anymore. Sheyan then stomped down onto Hawser's limbs! Soon after, piercing fractures echoed out, as Hawser's four limbs were utterly stomped broken!
At this moment, Sheyan turned and yelled towards his crew.
"Ol'Seadog?"
Ol'Seadog hastily ran over; his face covered with filth and grime, as well as a bruise from being trampled on earlier. He then bowed respectfully and greeted.
"What be yer order, cap'n?"
Sheyan glanced back down to Hawser who appeared like a dead dog. Then, he insipidly announced.
"Didn't you mentioned about letting him taste your lead bullet? My subordinates are always true to their words! Without trustworthiness, how can ye strive within the seven seas?"
Though his face carried traces of great hardships, Ol'Seadog immediately revealed a sly smile and replied.
"Aye, cap'n. Yer lesson shall stand!"
Ol'Seadog immediately pulled out a short musket, before he crudely stuffed it into Hawser's mouth. Finally, he revealed a cruel smirk.
"Fool, I be offerin' you a way out by calling you to scram, but ye stubbornly hung on. Ye know what fear is now, aye?"
Hawser's eyes widened as his mouth issued unclear gurgling croaks, which were undoubtedly pleas for mercy. Eventually, tears begun streaming down. To that, Ol'Seadog merely laughed hysterically. Within the watchful encirclement of many pirates, he felt with great contentment, that his little self had scaled to the peak of his life.
Boom! He pressed his trigger!
Smoky fumes spiralled up, as Hawser's eyes remained widened. His body convulsed violently for a brief while, before finally ceasing mobility. A large clump of turbid blood formed on the deck beneath his head.
Meanwhile, Alan Dale was currently yelling with incisive intent.
"Ye actually dare to slay me men. Just yer wait, the crew of tis' ship will all be blown down!"
After concluding his statement, he instantly leapt down onto the shore of Tortuga and fled.
But at this instant, DA! DA! DA! Distinct rumbles resounded, as 3 bullets whizzed in. The first bullet struck against the rock Alan Dale was about to set foot on, which swiftly congealed out a layer of deep blue frost!
Alan Dale immediately lost balance upon landing, but hastily stabbed his rapier forth to break his fall. Yet the second bullet whizzed in at this moment, striking against the rapier blade that was cushioning his weight. He finally collapsed and face planted to the ground, while the third bullet streaked by Alan Dale's head; coincidentally striking against a rope that was pulleying a bundled clutter of empty beer barrels.
Instantaneously, the empty beer barrels fell, rumbling clamorously as it rolled downward; threatening to squish Alan Dale.
Having just regained his balance, and suddenly having to face these incoming barrels, Alan Dale could only retreat backwards; back to where he was attempting to flee from. At this moment, Sheyan was already standing peacefully before him.
"Oh, my crew will all be blown down? Were you the one that said that?"
Alan Dale's facial muscles twitched uncontrollably; appearing to have reached the pinnacle of fury. He gritted his teeth and declared.
"That's right! I said that! What do ye want?"
Sheyan replied indifferently.
"Relax, I'm in a good mood today and do not wish to kill you. But you recently mentioned your desire to hang my subordinate onto the mast, and let the wind blow him dry. I'm a person who acts with equanimity; how others treat me, I will do likewise."
A pair of hostile blaze was ignited in Alan Dale's eyes, as he thrusted his rapier towards Sheyan's eyes. His thrust was executed with his full strength, and could only be described as a jolt of current. Yet Sheyan swiped away with his hand, where the rapier merely left a strip of blood onto his palm.
The current Sheyan had plenty of combat experience already. With one look, he could tell the weakness of Alan Dale's assault!
Only at this point, did Alan Dale understood he had been far too conceited. Hearing that a batch of outsiders had arrived today, his hand had turned itchy and decided to engage in extortion. Never did he expect himself to discover this was a british modelled warship. Moreover, there were several exceptionally valuable components on board.
Yet most critically, the pirates on board were individuals he completely did not recognize. Instead, his underlings had guaranteed and vowed solemnly, that the pirates on board were the lowest rungs who possessed no accomplishments! They were bloody hell basically like little kids carrying a pouch of gold while acting ostentatiously on the streets. It was no Wonder Alan Dale had desired to pillage and capture the Hill Maiden.
Ultimately, how would he know the core pirates of this ship were actually so domineering!!
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