The next day, Alfred Hall strolled through the streets of Puning Port with several nobles he was on fairly good terms with.
There were quite a few nobles who had traveled from Backlund to the Southern Continent to make money or carve out a career. Most of them were descendants of powerful aristocratic families.
This time, they were returning together with Alfred Hall, so they could look out for one another along the way.
After wandering the streets for a while, the group arrived at a well-known local restaurant to enjoy lunch.
Compared to the rough style of the Southern Continent, the food here was far more refined, though still far from matching Backlund.
As they were savoring the familiar taste of their homeland, the conversation of nearby diners somehow shifted to the Duke of Southville and the future of Southville County.
Quite a few diners remarked that even a pig would make a better Duke of Southville than the current one.
Some more radical patrons even joked that if war from the Southern Continent ever spread into Southville County, they wouldn't rely on its defending forces. Instead, they would join the Southern Continent's side to overthrow this rotten, stinking land.
Although it was said jokingly, many people voiced their agreement. From what they said, it was all criticism, there wasn't a single word in support of the kingdom.
Alfred Hall and his companions exchanged glances, suddenly losing their appetite.
They endured listening a bit longer and realized the logic behind these diners' complaints: the port garrison was incompetent, the Duke of Southville was useless, which meant the king must be foolish, and the entire Kingdom of Loen was rotten to the core.
In the end, Alfred Hall and the others hurriedly finished their meal and left the restaurant.
After they departed, the previously loud diners quieted down and began discussing what they planned to do that day.
Having lost all interest in sightseeing, Alfred Hall and his group returned to their inn rooms and each wrote a letter to be sent to Backlund.
They had personally witnessed how terrifying the war in the Southern Continent could be. Given Southville County's current state, if no capable leader stepped forward to turn the tide, it was only a matter of time before the kingdom's gates were forced open.
Perhaps even a well-equipped pirate crew could seize the port directly.
As nobles of Loen, they had a responsibility to warn the king at such a critical moment.
…
In another inn room, Hastur was holding Ariella, gently stroking its fur.
Ever since being thrown into a forest by Sharon once, Ariella had become much more obedient, no longer daring to stir up trouble between Hastur and Sharon.
Instead, the battles among stray cats and dogs around the port had grown far more intense than before.
"I didn't expect Miss Audrey's second brother to return from the Southern Continent. It seems the situation there is quite chaotic," Hastur sighed.
At noon, he had also been in that restaurant and had personally heard those nobles refer to a man of about twenty-five or twenty-six as Alfred.
Compared to Audrey's beauty and Hibbert's aristocratic elegance, Alfred, who had ventured to the Southern Continent, carried a rugged aura everywhere he went. Though he tried hard to temper it with noble etiquette, the effect was minimal.
Years of sea winds and harsh sun had given his skin a bronze tone. His beard was unkempt, and only his eyes retained a sharp, merchant-like shrewdness.
Based on his understanding of Earl Hall, Hastur believed that even if Alfred returned to Backlund, he wouldn't win his father's favor.
When it came to inheriting the Earl title, he was already destined to fail. Sometimes, appearance and temperament really could determine many things.
Hastur understood that deeply.
"Meow?" Ariella tilted its head slightly, as if questioning him.
Hastur lowered his head and rubbed against its fur the wrong way, kneading the round cat. "You really have a talent for provocation."
"Meow." Taking it as praise, Ariella happily chirped.
While Hastur and Ariella were playing around, Sharon returned through the window after gathering information.
"Between two and two-thirty in the morning, the target ship will dock."
"Meow." Ariella slipped free from Hastur's grasp, leaped into Sharon's arms, and blinked innocently while beginning to complain pitifully.
Hastur asked, "Did you find out who's guarding the ship?"
"Most likely a Sequence 4," Sharon said, gently stroking Ariella's head. "The target is the coffin. No need to fight to the death."
"Understood." Hastur nodded.
The two began planning their operation.
…
Late at night, at 2:25 AM, three ships from the Southern Continent successfully arrived at Puning Port.
Under the hazy moonlight, the night felt especially cold and silent.
In the docking area for merchant ships, just as the three vessels finished berthing, a fire suddenly broke out and began to spread for no apparent reason.
These three ships, disguised as ordinary merchant vessels, only secretly used Beyonder abilities to extinguish the flames when the fire showed signs of spreading out of control, to prevent damage to their cargo.
By the time the fire was contained and the smoke gradually dispersed, Hastur had already boarded one of the ships invisibly, carrying a mirror.
From Sharon's information, they only knew that the coffin containing the demigod mummy was on one of the ships, they didn't know which one, so he had to search for it himself.
This was something Hastur excelled at. Before taking action, he had already used fate-peering to roughly determine the mummy's location.
However, in the visions he saw, he hadn't spotted the guardian. So he only dispatched his spirit body, making things both safer and more convenient.
If he encountered danger, he could retreat into the Hall of Stars and descend again using the Star Vessel.
Thanks to his preparations, Hastur quickly found the place where the mummy was stored.
On the surface, only six people were guarding the coffin. They were divided into three teams of two, two teams patrolled alternately, while the remaining team stayed by the coffin at all times.
Even when the fire had broken out earlier, they hadn't left their posts.
Hastur hid in the shadows, not acting immediately.
According to the plan he and Sharon had made, they would send the coffin into the spirit world, then transport it away from there.
Otherwise, taking the coffin in plain sight would require defeating all the guards on the ship.
If he could do that, there would be no need to sneak in, he could just seize it by force.
After silently observing the patrol patterns and timing the gaps, Hastur emerged from the shadows. Taking advantage of a brief opening between patrols, he slipped in and reached a spot three meters from the coffin.
Now he only needed to deal with the two guards who never left its side.
To ensure success, Hastur had brought the Witch card with him.
A Witch merged into shadows, excelled at assassination, and possessed some anti-divination abilities. Combined with the card's own level, it could better conceal his presence.
Before acting, Hastur carefully checked his surroundings once more. Confirming he couldn't sense the demigod's aura, he launched his attack from the shadows.
He struck first at one guard from behind, the Witch card in his hand slicing open the man's throat like the sharpest blade. At the same time, he used a mental shock to control the other guard, preventing him from raising an alarm. Then he dashed forward and, under the man's terrified gaze, slit his throat with the edge of the card.
After swiftly dealing with both, Hastur pushed open a corner of the coffin before the other guards could react.
Only after confirming that a mummy covered in spices lay inside did he toss the mirror he carried into the coffin, allowing Sharon, hidden within, to take the coffin into the spirit world.
This would take some time, so Hastur put away the Witch card and used the power of the War Emblem to cloak himself in armor, wielding a greatsword as he stood in front of the coffin to buy Sharon time.
The moment he opened the coffin, he had already triggered the alarm set upon it.
A powerful figure rushed over at incredible speed.
He appeared to be around forty years old, standing over two meters tall. Bald, with a thick beard, and a diagonal scar at the corner of his left eye, his entire frame exuded brute strength.
The Southern Continent really does produce formidable people.
That was the only thought in Hastur's mind. This physique looked even more savage than his own as a Barbarian.
The other guards also rushed over, surrounding Hastur.
Sensing the subtle fluctuations of the spirit world opening, the leader didn't say a word. Instead, he took out a book and began flipping through it seriously.
The contrast caught Hastur off guard for a moment, but the wave of vicious curses and frost attacks that followed made him instantly realize, this was a Shaman King from the Moon pathway.
Hastur did his best to evade, but each sickly green or pitch-black, foul-smelling curse clung to him like bone-deep poison. In just a few breaths, the armor he wore was already riddled with corroded holes.
If there had been flesh beneath, it would have already been rotting and oozing.
"A spirit body?"
A trace of confusion and mockery appeared on the leader's face. He didn't even reveal his mythical creature form, simply continuing to turn the pages as layers of curses targeting spirit bodies completely enveloped Hastur.
At the same time, Hastur's figure was reflected in his eyes, as though he was preparing something.
At that moment, a brilliant light suddenly burst forth, radiant like the sun, instantly melting away all curses and frost bindings like snow.
The light was so dazzling it was impossible to keep one's eyes open. Even the leader instinctively squinted.
For a moment, he couldn't see what was happening within the radiance.
Fearing the intruder might escape using the opportunity, he raised his right hand and traced a ritual in midair. A faint moon seemed to manifest.
The moonlight, gentle and cool, dispelled the blinding brilliance of the sun, restoring everyone's vision.
But when the light faded, the coffin had already disappeared.
Only a figure clad in tattered armor remained.