Chapter Fifty-Two: The Ghost Ship (4)

“A-He! Are you all right?!” Artoria caught Zhao Tianhe in her arms, her expression tense with concern.

“I’m fine…” Zhao Tianhe pressed a hand to his neck, casting a basic healing spell to staunch the bleeding, then staggered to a corner of the blood pool and blocked the last opening.

He still didn’t know what the pool of blood was for, but since the enemy had left magical guardians here, it was clear this place held value.

“At the very least, this should give you some trouble,” he thought, his face pale as he collapsed into the pool. He had only been drained for less than two seconds, yet he was already suffering from anemia—a negative status effect. His total health had dropped by twenty, and his strength by one.

Once Artoria dragged him from that dangerous pool, she resumed clearing out the endless tide of ghostly crew members.

But as that strange voice gradually faded away, the ghostly crew finally began to retreat, fear clearly etched on their faces.

As Class C elites, especially those among ghostly humanoid monsters, their intelligence was high. This made them formidable tacticians—but also meant they were capable of fear.

The lowest level of the ghost ship was a vast, cavernous space.

Unlike the rest of the ship, which was shrouded in gloom, this chamber was filled with a bloody radiance.

A figure stood upon the ground, where faint red ripples shimmered. With a guttural snarl, it spoke:

“Who dares disturb me, disturb my precious ones as they sing for me…” The figure exuded a chilling cold, and the bloody floor beneath it slowly lost its glow.

A terrifying, icy miasma filled the chamber; the ghostly blue form gradually took shape.

Floating midair was a ghost clad in a captain’s hat and ornate fur-lined coat, its face twisted in a snarl as it bellowed, “You wretches! Kill for me! Any who flee—die!”

Elsewhere on the ship, beyond the sight of Zhao Tianhe and the others, ghostly crew members tried to escape this dreadful place, terror written on their faces. Yet crimson tendrils ensnared and bound them fast.

As they were bound, the ghostly sailors wailed and began to dissolve, leaving behind only faces contorted in terror, merging with the ship’s hull.

“Too many cowards! You are unworthy of being crew on the Sea God!” the ghost captain roared, snatching specks of phosphorescent light from the air and tucking them into his coat. “If you’re not fit, then I’ll recruit anew! Hahaha—slaughter the vermin, set sail! Let the beauties sing and the wine flow! Hahahaha!”

“Why did the monsters suddenly vanish…” Zhao Tianhe lay slumped over Artoria’s back, straining to sense their surroundings. Ever since that voice had ceased, the familiar whispers of ghosts slipping through wood and air had disappeared—at least within twenty meters of their position.

The ghosts’ voices were indeed faint, so to maintain clarity, Zhao Tianhe restricted his sensory field to a radius of about twenty meters.

“Something’s wrong. The ship’s been wracked with wild surges of magical power since a while ago…” In Gellors’ eyes, a kaleidoscopic six-pointed arcane array glimmered—Arcane Sight, capable of perceiving most forms of energy. “Faster! I have a terrible feeling about this!”

Artoria nodded, and together with Gellors, sprinted deeper into the ship.

The further they descended, the darker and colder it became.

Already weakened by anemia, Zhao Tianhe’s body trembled uncontrollably, as if he had a severe fever. Even though he’d cast a cantrip to keep warm, the chill was clearly magical in nature, forcing him to constantly refresh his magical wards just to maintain his body temperature.

“Hold on, A-He. We’re close—once we find it, soon…” Artoria knew just how dire Zhao Tianhe’s condition was. Murderous resolve surged in her heart, and the cold in her eyes was even more biting than the air around them.

A few minutes later, Artoria slashed open a door that had been barricaded from within. A blast of icy air and frost rushed out; Gellors quickly summoned a wall of fire to block the deadly chill.

But a sudden force struck, sending Gellors flying.

“Two layers of force fields shattered, rigid shield damaged, anti-magic ward triggered—compound damage, extremely powerful and fast!” Even as he crashed into a cabin dozens of meters away, Gellors was already analyzing the assault. “This boss is no joke—its attack rivals a Class B!”

“Vermin, die!” a furious roar echoed.

“Head,” Zhao Tianhe whispered into Artoria’s ear.

She raised her sword, unleashing a surge of magic to barely withstand the terrifying attack—one that could rival a Class B boss.

“Damn, that strong?!” Gellors exclaimed as he saw Artoria’s feet leave two scorched furrows in the solid planks. “To actually sense and block such a high-speed strike?!”

After all, Gellors himself was under several buffs, including ones that enhanced reflexes and perception, but he hadn’t even registered the attack before being blasted away. It was the speed, more than the power, that was so terrifying.

By his estimation, it would take at least fifty agility points and a matching sensory talent just to react in time.

“Left chest,” Zhao Tianhe murmured, eyes closed.

At his words, Artoria quickly twisted aside.

An unseen attack sliced the air, smashing into the cabin wall and splintering the sturdy boards.

“That’s…” Gellors heard Zhao Tianhe’s voice. “A-He’s perception?!”

Indeed, at this moment, Zhao Tianhe had poured all his awareness into his sixth sense. His concern for Artoria even outweighed his regard for himself, allowing him to keenly perceive every threat that might endanger her—sometimes anticipating it a fraction of a second before it happened.

Right now, Zhao Tianhe’s sixth sense had reached its theoretical maximum: two hundred and forty-two points.

Because he knew—if Artoria died here, she would be truly gone. Forever.

“Left leg.”

Artoria darted aside, asking quietly, “If I move at full speed, will you still be able to help?”

“No problem. Stay calm,” Zhao Tianhe replied with a nod. At this moment, he was in a subtle state, his sixth sense so heightened that he could even read the surface of Artoria’s thoughts—he could feel her fury.

As for Zhao Tianhe himself, his mind was working at full capacity to process the flood of sixth sense information, leaving him in a state of perfect serenity—neither elated nor sorrowful.

Artoria nodded and charged into the hall, now filled with blood-red ice crystals, unleashing her full magical power.

There must have been some magic at work, for only upon entering the hall could Artoria see the ghost captain’s true location—it was no wonder he had attacked preemptively to keep them out.

“Worms! Die! Die die die!” The ghost captain lifted his flintlock, firing several shots in quick succession, but Artoria dodged each one.

They were less than a hundred meters apart—a mere fraction of a second for Artoria.

Tangible magic blazed around her, explosive strength surging from every fiber.

In the next instant, the young knight appeared behind the ghost captain. His body was already cleaved in two by her blade.