Axel

Chapter 518: A Mere Evil God? Not Worth the Time?

Added 2025-06-21 15:08:01 +0000 UTC

Charlot Mecklenburg gazed back toward the distant horizon, where within the endless storm, a colossal creature loomed like a mountain. It floated upon the ocean's surface, its form shrouded in the tempest, faint and obscure, as if veiled in a surreal haze. Its appearance defied clarity.

He made a slashing motion across his neck, a taunting gesture of defiance.

Opportunities to provoke an evil god were rare, and Charlot intended to seize this one. Perhaps he could even earn a fleeting "Joy of Fate." After all, he owed the Serpent of Fate numerous instances of such joy, having also incurred significant debts at the hands of his rebellious offspring, Amon Mecklenburg. Charlot was convinced the Serpent of Fate had deliberately allowed Amon to wreak havoc under his name. Otherwise, how could such reckless borrowing have been permitted?

Of course, it might also have been a minor punishment for his earlier jest—mocking the Serpent of Fate's arithmetic abilities. Despite extinguishing the sacrilegious thought almost as soon as it arose, replacing it with fervent loyalty and faith, Charlot had still written out the principles of mathematics. In retrospect, the mockery seemed even more pointed!

Though throat-slitting gestures were not common in this world, the evil god hidden within the storm evidently understood the provocation. Enraged, it stirred the storm into greater fury, then began to pursue them.

Charlot was about to order the fleet to accelerate when Juno Arthur and Emilia Mecklenburg leaped into the air in unison. Together, they intoned:

"By my command, all shall turn to ash. By my sight, all to dust. By my gaze, all vanish like smoke!"

The raging tempest was abruptly torn apart by two converging annihilative forces, exposing the true form of the creature within.

It was a grotesque amalgamation—a vast, floating heap of sea refuse composed of the mangled remains of marine life, shattered shipwrecks, soil, and tangled sea flora. Its sight alone evoked revulsion.

Charlot raised his Red Viper pistol and fired a single shot. The bullet struck the godlike entity, creating a deep crater in its body. Yet given its enormous size, the wound was negligible—hardly more than a pinprick.

Shaking his head, Charlot remarked, “It doesn’t have an evil god's force field.”

Juno descended gracefully, a faint smile on her lips. “It hasn’t yet reached the level of Yishemierlen.”

The creature, apparently intimidated by the two Blood Clan Grand Prophecies, quickly retreated into the storm, unwilling to pursue further.

Charlot shook his head again. Yishemierlen had long fallen, and Agmirlas was entangled with three other evil gods. Neither of these deities was in their full strength. While this godlike being was far weaker than those two, it was at least in a complete state. If a fight broke out, it would undoubtedly be a grueling battle.

Charlot had been away for a long time and was eager to return to Fars. After all, his mission had been to resolve the crisis of Agmirlas’s descent. Now that the crisis was averted, even Agmirlas had been dealt with. It was time to return to Fars and petition Emperor Maclaine Bretagne to wed Princess Annie. Charlot longed to begin a blissful and boundless life.

Calmly, Charlot declared, “A mere evil god! Not worth the time. Let’s head back.”

Even Juno couldn’t help but be impressed by Charlot’s bravado.

“A mere evil god? Not worth the time? Is this something a mortal should say? This is the kind of demeanor only another evil god could have!”

Juno firmly believed Charlot had not yet ascended to Saint rank, but she was convinced he would inevitably become an evil god one day. After all, in Charlot’s family of “seven,” he was the only one who wasn’t already an evil god…

The Mecklenburg Fleet swiftly escaped the storm. The remainder of their journey was uneventful. As they neared the Old Continent, the waters of the Giant Whale Sea grew safer, increasingly falling under the jurisdiction of the Nine True Gods.

Eager to reach home, Charlot abandoned the Ghost Fleet, ordering it to follow at a distance. Instead, he pressed ahead with four legendary warships, seven alchemical magic warships, and eleven ancient magic warships, accelerating their return.

During the journey, Charlot condensed two additional Blood Vortexes. Originally, Blood Glory allowed for the formation of thirteen such vortexes. However, with the secret techniques of the Arthur Clan and the Van Gogh Clan, Charlot managed to form two more, achieving an unprecedented total of fifteen Blood Vortexes. He could feel his Blood Glory reaching its “boiling point,” only one step away from breakthrough, yet that critical step eluded him.

Charlot had sought Juno’s guidance on the matter, but she would always reply enigmatically, “Ascending to Saint rank requires a subtle sense of realization. You’re just one insight away.”

Charlot found her words unconvincing. He suspected his teacher was withholding something. He couldn’t help but grumble whenever he saw Viggo: “If someone like Viggo can ascend to Saint rank, I should have ascended long ago!”

Despite exhaustive efforts—scrutinizing the principles of Blood Glory, delving deeply into the secret arts of the three clans—Charlot’s strength consistently surpassed the upper limits of the eighteenth rank, yet the moment of ascension remained out of reach.

He even tried consulting the Serpent of Fate, but the god promptly docked him another “Joy of Fate,” leaving Charlot too intimidated to repeat the experiment.

Indeed, asking one of the Nine True Gods how to become a Blood Clan Saint was admittedly a bit inappropriate. After all, the Blood Clan was considered heretical, and its ancestors were all evil gods.

...

The fleet, composed of legendary, alchemical magic, and ancient ghost warships, soon reached Goring Island. Charlot bypassed the island’s other cities, heading directly to Cappadocia, where he planned a brief stay to replenish supplies before continuing to Fars.

When the fleet arrived at Cappadocia, the small city’s inhabitants were first struck with terror—few had ever seen so many legendary warships, let alone alchemical magic and ancient ghost warships. However, the sight of the Mecklenburg family’s banners flying over the fleet caused a wave of elation. Numerous ships sailed out to greet Charlot, celebrating his arrival as their lord.

As Charlot stepped ashore, Captains Cruse and Siman came forward to greet him. Cruse, now the city’s administrator, and Siman, the harbor master, had managed the city with such diligence that it had flourished.

Cappadocia’s population had swelled to 300,000, even with many residents relocating to other cities on the island. Charlot had consistently sent migrants to Cappadocia, indirectly contributing to its prosperity. With abundant labor, the protection of the Imperial Rose Fleet, and a commercial fleet of over a thousand ships trading with the Old Continent, Ingrima Empire, and New Continent, Cappadocia had become the most renowned commercial city in the Giant Whale Sea.

When Charlot inquired about Menielman Soumet, he learned that she was currently on Saint Michael Island. After a moment’s thought, he decided to visit her the following day.