Chapter 346: CCCXLVI. East Sea Sovereign: Doringger of the Cold Abyss
Mo Yutong’s clothes and hair were completely soaked as she lay collapsed on the coast. She couldn’t swim and had been brought to the shore by Izumi, who pressed down on her chest to help her cough violently, spitting out water, in extremely poor condition.
The coast was in total chaos, with twelve groups of Merfolk armies, Doringger’s Personal Guard, and another black market tycoon’s men clashing together.
Fen’s gaze was cold, and the first thing he did upon reaching the shore was to search for Doringger. The raven that had flown out had a bird’s eye view from the sky, but it could not find any trace of Doringger; it was as if he had vanished into thin air.
The coast had fallen into an extremely tense standoff.
Ernie was dealing with the Far East Sword Master, the Water-Repelling Sword clashing with the long Dao used for drying clothes. The residual waves of the blade and sword, even a slight brush with their force, meant certain death; no one dared to approach the combat zone of those two.
But clearly, Ernie was gaining the upper hand, step by step pushing Chiyoda towards the direction of the outer city, not allowing her to enter the battle lines and slaughter the remaining Merfolk.
His years were like a candle in the wind, old and frail, older even than Hened; one daren’t imagine what he would have been like in his prime.
Chuan Che was contending with a Shapeshifter, that eerie Druid capable of transforming into a variety of forms, like a spirit of nature. Changing into a black panther with incredible agility, he pounced towards Chuan Che, biting and clawing, his arms and thighs opening up with wounds, oozing plasma.
There was also a Sergeant from the Witch Hunting Secret Department, Ox, who was resisting stubbornly. Shadi, leading a troop of Heroic Level adventurers and Celeste’s intelligence agents, went partly to support Ox, partly to deal with the black market tycoon’s troops.
This Sergeant, with short hair and of advanced age, had a face scarred by interrogation with knives and whips, horribly terrifying, wearing only a simple linen outfit.
Having lived through the dark years of Old Aran, his combat experience, instinctual reactions, expert marksmanship honed by hunting witches, and the necessary arcane magic to resist witches were all factors.