Florence, the Scandinavian white desert!
Jack D. Sparrow did not rush to the island, but looked to the distant east. The dim sky and creamy white desert separated a black curtain without stars or moon on the distant horizon.
With a click, Jack D. Sparrow pressed the silver pocket watch in his hand. The time on it showed 8:16 am!
It is now 8 o'clock in the morning, and the sun still has not risen, and the ghost under the desert has not left either. It has stopped guiding the Black Pearl and has been hiding around it, as if something strange is brewing.
"There are no navigational aids, watchtowers, or other churches on the island. It can basically be confirmed that this is an unexplored island."
First Mate John M. Pock, who was wearing a blue robe and a black iron hook on his left hand, looked at the black island in front of him and said:
"Captain, I always feel that something is not right. Could this be a coincidence? It's as if something below deliberately guided us here."
"There's something not right. Let's go check out the sailboat next to it. There should be some clues on it."
There was no extra emotion on Jack's rough and profound face. As soon as he finished speaking, his right hand suddenly reached out to grasp the void.
Pieces of illusory green scales instantly appeared on the surface of the back of the hand, and immediately an inexplicable hurricane emerged from the soles of the feet, blowing violently from bottom to top.
This is the extraordinary ability of the Seagull Path Priesthood Sequence 2 surfer. In addition to possessing the water element, he can also temporarily control hurricanes and make himself or others fly in the air.
Seeing their captain displaying extraordinary abilities, many sailors burst into joy, and the haze that had just enveloped their hearts disappeared.
In their minds, Captain Jack was a powerful Sequence 2 priest, and the Poseidon Church was behind him, so there was no need to worry about any accidents.
The huge swirling hurricane blew faster and faster, bursting out with huge power centered on the eye of the storm. It briefly caused Jack, John Ming and Wendy to leave the ground and hang in mid-air. Then the wind direction changed and the three of them landed steadily. On top of the recent dilapidated sailboat.
With a deck made of black birch and a sail made of oil curtain cloth, this was a popular sailing ship in the Byzantine Empire at the end of the last era, when the great voyages had just begun.
Jack suddenly thought of something. With a wave of his wrist, the fierce hurricane blew open the rusty captain's cabin door. There were no corpses and no chaos inside. Everything seemed extremely normal, except for the thick spider webs.
Jack walked into the captain's cabin. He came to the two rows of huge wine cabinets, picked up one of the bottles of Cedar red wine placed at the top, looked through the red and heavy wine and said:
"The navigators of the Baiting Empire have the habit of writing diaries. Look around for them. Remember, except for the voyage diaries, other things are not allowed to be touched."
"Yes, Captain."
John Ming Bok and Wendy responded at the same time. For them, their captain was a very experienced cleric. If he said that things other than diaries should not be touched, then they must not touch them.
In the captain's room, the two of them began to rummage through the boxes and cabinets in search of notebooks from different directions. Hundreds of years had made things in the captain's room fragile. Jack walked to the desk occupying one wall in front of him and saw morning breakfast spread on the wooden table. The rotting chart has a place marked on it, Black Mountain Island!
Sure enough, this is an island, but the sailing ship is not a ghost ship and cannot sail in the desert. How did the Zambitine fleet get here before the end of the last era?
Desert, desert... maybe, this was not a desert before, but an ocean covered with blue water?
Jack's thoughts were spinning, and he roughly guessed the original appearance of this area based on this rotten chart and the surrounding dilapidated sailboats.
"Captain, I found the diary."
Wendy yelled, and Jack looked up at a dusty, tattered sheepskin-covered diary in his hand, and then narrowed his eyes slightly:
"This is it, take it over."
"Yes, Captain." Wendy responded immediately.
On the wooden table, Jack lit the half-length candle that had gone through hundreds of years, and then carefully spread out the diary, letting the candle's flame completely illuminate the diary, and tried to distinguish the words on it.
This root word... is a Turman character? Shouldn't it be Zambitine text?
Damn, luckily I learned Turman in Poseidon Church, so it’s not particularly obscure to read.
"On May 8, I set out from the Black Forest in Venice Water City and sailed all the way to Xisha Bay. I actually looked on the safe route... and saw those ghost things. My God, why did they appear here?"
"On May 14th, the exploration team set out again. I admit that I was a little embarrassed when I saw them before, but this did not affect my treasure hunting journey. Haha, we Turmans are born to be extraordinary navigators."
"On May 20, the first mate told me that he has been thinking about women lately. I often miss women late at night. There is a large red light district in Port Lawrence in front of me. This time I want to order two foreign girls. Well, I heard that Ghent The female slaves in the kingdom are very good.”
Bah, a group of short-haired prairie dogs who only know how to think with their lower bodies are also worthy of being called natural navigators? It is simply an insult to navigators.
Because the diary is so old, many pages are stuck together and difficult to separate. Seeing here is the last diary content. However, judging from the written records alone, it is not difficult to guess that the owner of this three-masted sailing ship is the whole continent. Everyone hates the Turks.
Just when Jack scoffed, thinking that the Turmans were just prairie dogs who could think with their lower bodies, John Ming handed over another diary from behind.
"Captain, the words recorded here are a little different."
Jack glanced at John Ming behind him. He took it and opened it. The deep black pupils in his eye sockets instantly shrank to the size of a pinhole, and he saw that the dark brown diary was filled with messy Ghent words.
"No. 3, as you can see, this place is full of wreckage of sailboats. It is a very bad place. If I hadn't been ordered by the church to take care of an "anomaly" here, I would have left long ago. By the way, Don’t go to that island, don’t go!!!”
"No. 4, please ignore my previous diary. That is a stupid idea. This island is rich in minerals and there is no problem."
"No. 5, are they coming down? No, it's not them, it's them...them...they are beside me, behind me, in my eyes..."
The diaries of No. 3 and No. 4 are completely opposite, and who do the people described by No. 5 and they refer to?
This extremely confusing narrative logic made Jack feel a little creepy when he read the diary, and he began to wonder in his heart what exactly this church member had experienced?
Wendy glanced at the contents of the diary. He swallowed hard. His trembling fingertips were subconsciously placed on the gun bag on his waist. He shrank his head and looked around cautiously, as if there was some terrible monster lurking in it?
Jack knew what he was thinking, so he closed the diary and slapped his fleshy head, "Wendy, you are a teacher of the Poseidon Church, a priest with extraordinary abilities."
"Captain, are we still going up?" John Ming asked hesitantly.
"Go, of course we have to go. This is about whether we can quickly be promoted to the demigod rank as a shortcut."
Jack's expression suddenly became determined. He held up the black three-cornered hat on his head with his hand. He was already determined in his heart that no matter what dangers there were on the black island, they could not block his path to becoming stronger, even if he died, he would die. On the road, because only in this way can he completely get rid of his past self.
boom!
A special roar sounded, like countless innocent souls screaming and shouting endlessly. The Black Pearl slowly parked close to the right side of the black island. The anchor with red liquid smashed into the milky white sand, and the hanging ladders emerged from the rust stains. The mottled boat railings flew down...
.........
Hutton Mall, Castleton District, Moor Luxury Villa.
The exquisite knife engraved with the pattern of curly leaves gently sliced the still warm pan-fried foie gras, but Lilith's mind was not at all on this tempting breakfast.
"Actually, clergy are not so beautiful. Their world is full of danger and unknown. They are poor people walking on the edge of the abyss!" This sentence was left by Karl when he left in the morning, and it deeply touched her.
Viscount Esther was assassinated last month, and the official investigation revealed that it was a secret organization that specifically targeted the nobles of the kingdom.
Hey, this world is always full of all kinds of dangers, especially clergy. I understand that Karl just gave a kind reminder.
Dad is the last heterosexual king in the current Kingdom of Ghent, the Prince of Wales, and he is very likely also on the list of that secret organization.
Lilith, you are no longer a child. You cannot always nestle under the wings of your parents. You need to grow up so that you can protect your parents when danger comes.
There were light waves in her red jewel-like eyes. After drinking the last sip of Rust red wine and enjoying the last piece of pan-fried foie gras, she picked up the gold silk handkerchief and wiped her mouth. She stood up and said to her personal maid Nia. :
"Today's afternoon tea is cancelled, and the literary salon held by Mrs. Leoman has also been canceled for me. I have to go find Dad and tell him something."
"Okay miss, if you want to see the Prince of Wales, you should prepare now." Nia, the personal maid, reminded from the side.
"Yeah, I know. As a noble lady, you need to be polite and elegant. I know all these things..."
Lilith turned and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling mirror engraved with ancient runes. She looked left and right in front of the mirror to confirm that there was nothing wrong with her image before she asked:
"Nia, I have been working hard to practice dancing with Teacher Elena. I shouldn't have gained weight, right?"
Nia, who was wearing a black and white maid uniform, looked at Lilith, smiled and nodded:
"Perfect, miss. Which dress do you want to wear today?"
Lilith thought for a moment and said: "That Roroque dress that Brother Panostek gave me last year? Pure white lace with mutton sleeves, I like it very much."
"No, my dear lady, this is absolutely not okay. As the daughter of the Prince of Wales and the apple of the eye of the Moore family, you absolutely cannot wear the same skirt twice, even if it is not a formal occasion. After all, you are meeting His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. !" Nia shook her head in denial.
"You can wear that skirt when you go out shopping, or when you have breakfast. It's not acceptable if you go out to a party." Nia thought about it and added a few more rules to emphasize.
Hey, okay!
What an era of beauty and pain...
Lilith took a breath, still keeping the smile on her lips.
"I will wear the long Basil dress that my dear mother, Dame Victoria, gave me last week. It is also the white one."
"Your vision is always so outstanding. His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales will definitely praise you when he sees it."
Nia took a step back with a smile and waved to the side. The maids who had already prepared began to get busy, from wearing the Basil dress, to embellishment of jewelry, to the white lace dress paired with Luther boots. The maids carried out the silk stockings in an orderly manner. The process was both complicated and elegant.
