CHAPTER 482: CHAPTER 371: DIVINE KING AND DIVINE QUEEN, THE DEEP SEA FRONT

Centuries ago, the Bayfolk Dragonhead Ship was already a terrifying presence that struck fear into countless people across the Silver Continent.

The runic characters for ’Viking’ mean ’person from the fjord,’ or Bayfolk for short.

As a naturally pirate nation, they would frequently set sail on their Dragonhead Ships, launching fierce attacks on monasteries, churches, and noble lands along the North Sea coast.

This type of dragonhead pirate ship naturally became the iconic symbol of this tribe.

The Dragonhead Ship was specifically designed for piracy and long voyages, with a hull that was light and narrow, flanked by rows of oar ports.

When sailing against the wind or when strenuous rowing was required, the rowers could easily lower the sails and maneuver with flexibility.

Not only was it very light and easy to handle, but it was also sturdy and seaworthy, easily beached on coastlines or linked together to form large pirate fleets on rivers.

Shipbuilding technology was indeed limited in that era, so warships were generally not very large.

Dragonhead Ships usually didn’t battle alone; they always employed the Wolf Pack Tactics of wolves.

Later, as shipbuilding technology continuously developed, the antiquated Dragonhead Ships and the old Wolf Pack Tactics were long obsolete; even the most orthodox Iron Anchor Bay no longer used them.

Instead, shipbuilding progressed through generations, from Carrack Ships to large Garen-class ships. Piracy tactics and naval warfare also evolved significantly multiple times.

If one were to sail such an antique out today, they wouldn’t even be able to plunder the most common armed merchant ship.

However, among all the antique Dragonhead Warships, there was one exception.

—[Sacred Relic: The First Pirate Ship] and [Legendary Warship: Bayfolk Dragonhead Ship]!

Relying on its series of powerful transcendent abilities, it continued the tradition of never fighting alone and would never become obsolete.

Although from the outside, the ship appeared to be only 23.35 meters long, about 5.36 meters at its widest, with a keel length of 17.65 meters—the entire hull crafted from solid oak and its 9.14-meter mast from a whole pine tree—it was actually smaller than a modern single-masted schooner.

But when Byron connected to Goddess Freya’s perspective and observed it from the inside, he was momentarily stunned by the stark contrast in spatial scale.

"It’s huge, much larger than the space on the First-Class Battleship, the *Blue Dragon King*. To call it a sea palace would not be an overstatement."

The very cabin Freya currently occupied was as vast as a palace hall.

Byron had already learned from Violet that this warship possessed the fundamental trait "One Ship, Many." It could never be regarded as merely an ordinary Dragonhead Ship.

It was like the saying: "You never know how many bare-chested thugs will pour out of a ridiculously small van to beat you up. Similarly, you never know if a single Bayfolk Dragonhead Ship you spot is actually a cover for a whole swarm of them hidden away."

The cabin before him was not only as spacious as a palace hall but also shared its grand layout. Nine massive, rough-hewn golden tables were arranged in two rows—one main table and eight auxiliary ones.

The tables were filled with all sorts of delicacies. Fish supplied by the Transcendents known as the "Blind Fish Eaters" was considered mere common fare here; the tables overflowed with delicacies from oceanic Sea Monsters and rare beasts of the land.

Precious Mermaid’s Tears were so abundant they could be eaten like pudding.

A grand pre-battle banquet was currently underway on board. Not even the "unexpected death" of Divine Son Frey had disrupted their revelry.

Goddess Freya had reverted to her stunningly beautiful and tall human form. She wore a Deity Mask and reclined languidly on a soft cushion behind a dining table, her long legs elegantly crossed to one side.

This [Goddess of Love and Beauty] was daringly clad. Aside from golden adornments on her wrists and ankles, her only attire was an antique white gauze dress with an exceptionally high slit.

Even the most audacious socialites among the Old Continent’s nobility would not dare such attire. Yet, on her, it only amplified her enchanting allure and sensuality.

It caused the other "gods" and attendants in the hall to steal frequent, captivated glances.

Amidst their admiration, most couldn’t help but secretly rejoice:

"Thank goodness it was Divine Son Frey who died and not Goddess Freya. Otherwise, it would have been... such a terrible waste."

They felt no sorrow whatsoever for their companion’s demise.

After Freya had "fled in panic" from Black Tide Town alone, she went straight to the Legendary Warship anchored outside Luanyun City, seeking refuge with her father, Dagon, who was preparing for a great battle.

By this time, the "gods" had also learned of the "incident"—yes, an accident—that had occurred in Black Tide Town.

Whether it was Freya’s account or the divinations performed by the Church’s upper echelons through various means, the conclusion was the same: Black Tide Town had been utterly wiped out due to a catastrophic explosion at a whale oil workshop.

Then, under the cover of darkness, a group of unidentified Colonizers had descended and looted extensively.

Freya, who happened to be off-island when the whale oil exploded, was the sole survivor. However, she was outnumbered and had no choice but to flee.

Under such circumstances, what more could they say besides offering platitudes like "Cherish life, let this be a lesson" or "Safety first in production; recklessness and violations are fatal"?

Byron’s three traits—[Outlaw Madman], [You Are Not the Murderer], and [Halo of the Great Benefactor]—seemed to have combined, producing a bizarre synergistic effect:

"The gun went off, did you see who fired the shot? I couldn’t make it out, he’s standing on the moral high ground, he’s in the sunlight!"

Now, it felt as if even if Byron brazenly shot a victim in the back eight times in broad daylight, onlookers would immediately conclude that the victim had hired an assassin... for suicide.

Could the assassin be blamed for a hired suicide? If it wasn’t suicide, what was it? Mr. Great Benefactor himself must surely be heartbroken, right? Didn’t you see the scalding tears of sorrow practically dripping from the corners of his mouth? That, apparently, was the situation.

Byron, borrowing Freya’s vision, scanned his surroundings. Sitting beside her, "Nightmare" Yemengade had also shed his gentlemanly attire.

He was bare-chested, clad in white silk trousers, and adorned with golden armlets. His physique was like that of a god, yet his eyes were filled with utter bafflement.

This eventually gave way to relief, and he murmured to himself,

"Lucky I ran fast. Next time I’ll find an opportunity to kill that Sea Hunter again."

Everyone else at the banquet also wore similar Deity Masks made of bone that glinted with gold.

It was as if a true pantheon of gods had gathered for the feast.

In reality, however, only Dagon himself had reached the Fifth Order, the realm of a "Pseudo-God."

He had fully assimilated his own Deity Mask, embodying the Divine Position of the "Sea God, Njord"—ruler of summer, the ocean, the fishing industry, sailing, and wealth—thereby reaching the same state of power the original deity possessed when alive.

He could "innovate upon the old foundations," modifying his Godly Name based on the original, and it would still specifically refer to him.

At the head of the table, Dagon, who had taken the form of a robust, middle-aged man, suppressed the ache of regret over his son’s unexpected death and the failure to retrieve his corpse and Deity Mask.

He looked at the opposite wall, where a dozen more Deity Masks were hung.

Evidently, their ancestors had plundered the entire mythological heritage of the Bayfolk.

"Alas, although these Deity Masks are splendid, without the corresponding Rank, one can only use them after cultivating the Bloodline Codex to the Fourth Order and ascending as a Mythical Creature. There is no way to significantly expand the army by using these masks. And cultivating another ’Divine Son’ to serve as a resurrection vessel is no easy task."

Among all the masks, two shone with a particularly brilliant radiance. Dagon’s gaze upon them was exceptionally fervent.

One was inscribed with "Authority, Prophecy, Mad Hunt, Woden," and the other with "Heavenly Queen, Frigg."

They symbolized the Bayfolk’s Mad Hunt Deity and the Goddess Queen, respectively.

Others might not know, but these Exiles were keenly aware that in the Mythological Era, the Mad Hunt Deity, Woden, had been an existence on par with the Old Gods.

He had merely vanished during the Twilight of the Gods at the Era Transition.

Although the mask used to venerate the Divine King was not significantly different in grade from those of other gods, if one lacked the necessary compatibility, anyone who dared to wear Woden’s mask would die.

As for the Heavenly Queen’s mask, only a wife acknowledged by the Divine King could wear it; otherwise, the same fate awaited.

As much as Dagon coveted the Divine King’s throne, he dared not gamble with his own life.

His heart filled with immense regret, he thought:

"Our ancestors were merely priests within the tribe. Although they held high status and possessed a respectable bloodline, they were still a far cry from the royal clans. Only the lineage of ’Blue Dragon King’ Reinhardt and his descendants carry the blood of the Mad Hunt Deity and the Heavenly Queen from the Mythological Era. Damn this wretched class system! Currently, only by relying on the power of my Lord, the ’Slumbering God,’ can I hope to touch the authority of the Mad Hunt Deity and eventually stand shoulder to shoulder with beings of their caliber. The Church has accumulated power for many years. The conquest of the Southern Continent has only just begun, but it will ultimately be mine. No one can snatch it from my hands!"

Gazing out the porthole, he saw Luanyun City beside the warship, shrouded in a dream-like mist.

Suddenly, the dark clouds above parted. A blood-red, hook-shaped moon cast its crimson light across the land, its glow penetrating the cabin.

The celestial bodies were the same all over the world; this red moon was clearly a projection of some Old God’s power.

AWOOO—!

Piercing, beastly howls rose and fell across the Southern Continent.

Dagon, jolted from his reverie, raised his wine glass to the "gods" assembled before him:

"Eat, all of you eat more. The window period at the turn of the month lasts only a few days. As the moon waxes towards full, the power of the two great Old God Secret Realms will also grow stronger. That ’Ocean Throne’ will definitely try to breach our defenses within these next few days."

"Yes, Archbishop." The chorus of agreement had barely faded when...

A blue projection, its aura no less imposing than Dagon’s, descended into the cabin. It solidified into a whale-like humanoid figure as massive as a small mountain.

The assembled were familiar with this entity. It was an ally from another heretical cult, the Rift Monastery, which worshipped the Old God, "Rift Whale Leviathan."

The newcomer scanned the gathered high-ranking members of the Deep Dive Church and boomed in a deep, resonant voice,

"Dagon, the vanguard fleet of the Pirate King has already set sail, expected to reach our defense line by tomorrow afternoon. It’s time for us to take action."

Byron’s eyes lit up instantly. He recognized this newcomer as another "Pseudo-God" from a different faction on the deep sea front, mentioned in the intelligence reports.

He had never forgotten that Leviathan was the source of knowledge for the "Calamity Witch," and Violet was only missing the final Curse Seal: Atlas, the Sky Titan.