Chapter 297: Too Happy Too Soon

A dilapidated sea vessel, disguised as a grain transport, lay moored outside the dock, its deck piled high with sacks of grain.

Famine had spread everywhere; grain was an urgent necessity. The dock pilot's eyes lit up at the sight of the grain sacks and didn't bother inspecting closely—he quickly signaled the ship to dock.

But once alongside the dock, the ship revealed its fangs: countless grain sacks were flung aside, exposing two hidden Mojing cannons concealed beneath them—one already aimed at the governor's mansion, primed and ready.

The governor's mansion was preparing dinner; the entire family waited for their meal. One shot struck true—half the governor's mansion was blown skyward.

The second shot targeted the police station; the building was obliterated. With no one left to maintain order, the island's chaotic inhabitants could turn the entire island upside down.

On the deck between the two Mojing cannons, a woman in ordinary attire swung a cleaver and shouted: "Blast! Blast! Give it to them! Dragon shit! You dared steal my home? Blast the bastards to hell! Everyone on the ocean knows Derek and the Canglong are linked—this place is their den! Smash it to pieces and see how they launder their loot!"

She added quickly: "Aim carefully—don't hit the innocent."

"Relax, Captain Night Raven," the first mate replied. "There's no one innocent on this island. Each shot consumes about two hundred Mojing, and a World Tree Decomposition Rod costs five hundred Mojing per use—we can fire five times. Total cost per shot: three hundred Mojing. How many shots are we firing?"

Valigu built Modan cannons because, at equal power, they were cheaper and more stealthy than Mojing cannons—each had its own advantages and drawbacks.

"Ssshh…" Night Raven winced, pulled open her pant pocket, and gritted her teeth: "Fire two more rounds. Are we really this poor?"

The first mate glared at her: "What else would you expect? If I had money, would I be a pirate? My hometown was raided too. Everyone said we should split the remaining cash and disband—but you wouldn't listen. Two more rounds means six shots total—twelve hundred Mojing gone. After that, you won't have enough for severance pay. Think carefully."

No sooner had the first mate finished than the ship shuddered—the second shot fired, streaking toward the police station.

Night Raven's face flushed pale then dark, and a birthmark suddenly appeared on her cheek.

She'd been named Night Raven because of that birthmark—it had been there since childhood, visible only when she was extremely agitated. Clearly, she was furious now.

One shot cost three hundred Mojing —equivalent to three thousand gold coins. Each gold coin weighed twenty-six grams. One shot meant blasting away seventy-eight kilograms of gold. Good heavens—she didn't even weigh seventy-eight kilograms herself.

She clenched her teeth: "Two more shots—hit the exchange and the granary."

"Alright, as you command, Your Majesty… uh, Captain. Wait—is that a person? He's running toward the cannonball… oh, he's hugging the cannon… he's hugging… hugging the cannonball." The first mate stammered, first stunned, then trembling, unable to speak coherently.

Night Raven trembled too: "Hugging… a Mojing cannonball? Is… is he even human? Wait—is that scales on him?"

Ange, transformed into the Dragon God, hovered before the Mojing cannonball—a glowing sphere larger than a human, formed from two hundred Mojing decomposed into energy, temporarily bound by special forces, then accelerated and launched—that was the principle of the Mojing cannon.

But compared to Valigu's Modan cannons, the Mojing cannon wasted far too much energy. A Modan required only eighty Mojing to achieve the same power—costs dropped dramatically.

It could also be air-dropped, and the launch platform simplified. Overall, its cost was far lower than the Mojing cannon. If they used Modan cannons, they wouldn't need to fire at all—just carry the Modan to the target and detonate it.

But whether Mojing cannon or Modan cannon, catching one bare-handed was absurd. Those who saw it couldn't believe their eyes.

Seconds ticked by. After five or six seconds, they realized the Mojing cannonball wasn't being held—it was frozen. The energy glow didn't flicker; it was frozen in place, along with the creature before it.

Derek Island's population was diverse—any kind of person could be found. Someone with broad experience shouted: "Spatial Stasis! Red Copper Dragon's Spatial Stasis! He's covered in scales—he's transformed into a Red Copper Dragon!"

Hearing this, Negril sneered: "Uneducated. That's Dragon God transformation… whatever. No human has ever seen a Dragon God form, let alone a dragon."

Night Raven turned to her first mate: "I… we seem to have hit someone we shouldn't have. What do we do?"

"What do you mean 'we'? You fired. I don't even know you." The first mate yanked off his headscarf, rushed to the rail, flipped over, and dove into the sea.

"You… you're not even taking your severance pay?" The first mate, who constantly talked about severance pay yet had been fiercely loyal, had just fled so easily. Night Raven realized the situation was dire—she instinctively turned to the second mate.

The second mate shrugged: "Captain, anyone who can catch a Mojing cannonball bare-handed must have incredibly powerful followers. If we don't run now, even if we get severance pay, we won't live to spend it. Run."

The second mate spoke and immediately sprinted to the rail, leaping into the sea. The rest of the crew followed suit.

"Makes sense." Night Raven rushed toward the rail, then remembered something—she dashed to the Mojing cannons, stripped off all remaining Mojing. Each cannon still had over four hundred Mojing —eight hundred total. That was the entire crew's severance pay.

She stuffed the Mojing into her pockets, ran to the rail, and jumped—but as she flipped over the edge, her collar was yanked tight. Lu Se grinned, hoisted her up, and shoved her face close to his: "You fired on us and think you can run?"

Night Raven's limbs turned icy. The Mojing cannon's range was two kilometers; the Zhiansuo was 1. kilometers away. Less than twenty seconds had passed since the shot landed—meaning this man had covered 1. kilometers in twenty seconds… this man was fast!

Night Raven wanted to cry: I'm just a pirate—why did I have to meet a monster?

The gap was too vast. As she was dragged back, not even a single thought of escape crossed her mind. She went limp as a lamb—especially when she noticed the Mojing cannonball had been destroyed.

The Mojing cannonball had been destroyed. Negril also noted that Ange's Dragon God transformation had lasted twenty-three seconds.

During those twenty-plus seconds, thirteen tiny dots appeared before Ange every second. Each dot solidified instantly, never expanding—but thirteen per second, continuously filling the space between Ange and the Mojing cannonball.

The moment spatial stasis vanished, the dots before Ange exploded into blazing fireballs, all firing outward simultaneously, tearing the Mojing cannonball into shreds and scattering it like fireworks.

Thirteen per second, twenty-three seconds—two hundred and ninety-nine fireballs.

Negril stared, dumbfounded: "Do you know? I considered hundreds of methods—analyzing its structure with the Goddess Fist, stripping its elements with Elemental Deprivation… I never imagined you'd hoard magic using spatial stasis? So bluntly simple?"

Ange tilted his head: "Practical."

"What if the hoarded magic wasn't enough to cancel the cannonball's power? It'd still hit you." Negril said.

"Weak power. No injury." Ange replied.

Nearly three hundred fireballs could cancel most of the cannonball's power. Even residual force wouldn't harm a Golden Skeleton.

In that case, hoarding fireballs was indeed the most practical method.

After a while, Lu Se dragged Night Raven back: "My lord, this woman's ship fired the Mojing cannons."

Negril sized up Night Raven, then asked in a puzzled tone: "Do we know each other? Why attack us?"

Though unsure how Ange could speak without moving his lips, Night Raven answered obediently: "I… I only wanted to blast the governor's mansion and the police station. I didn't mean to attack you."

As she spoke, she glanced furtively at the fallen police officers and soldiers, muttering quietly: "You're probably not Derek's men either."

Derek couldn't summon a warrior of this caliber—catching a Mojing cannonball bare-handed? Only a Truth-tier master could do that.

"So you just happened to start shelling when we were here, and we got caught in the crossfire?" Negril asked.

Night Raven nodded like a chicken pecking grain.

Negril suspected the same. If they'd been the real target, they wouldn't have used Mojing cannons. Even if Ange couldn't catch the cannonball, they'd have had ample time to dodge before impact.

Besides, they'd only arrived on Derek half an hour ago—who could have mustered a cannon-equipped ship to wait at the dock so quickly? And why attack them by first bombing the governor's mansion?

Altogether, Negril concluded: they were just unlucky. Damn it—this was their first time ever hit by a Mojing cannon—and it was a misfire?

"So how will you compensate us?" Negril growled. Though they weren't the target, they'd still been hit. This couldn't go unpunished—pay up!

Night Raven's face collapsed. She pulled out the eight hundred Mojing she'd just reclaimed and sighed inwardly: Her severance pay was gone after all.

When Night Raven held up the bag of Mojing with both hands, Negril nearly leapt to slap her: "Are you mocking us? Is this enough to bribe a beggar?"

Night Raven's face was tear-streaked: "This is all I have. That's it."

"You're a pirate—how are you this poor? You just fired two Mojing shots—each must've cost hundreds of Mojing. Are you lying to us?" Negril asked.

Night Raven shook her head frantically: "Our base was just raided—that's why I came for revenge. Even if it hadn't been raided, our operating funds were only two or three hundred Mojing —hardly more than now."

"How did you afford Mojing cannons then?" Negril asked.

"Stole them. Someone smuggled them in—I seized them and never dared use them." Night Raven explained.

"Really? No lies?" Negril asked.

"Truly. I swear by the Dragon God's name—every word is true." Night Raven swore solemnly.

Negril's opinion of her improved instantly: "You believe in the Dragon God?"

Night Raven said: "Not really. But when swearing, you need a deity to back it. On this ocean, invoking the Dragon God is safest."

"Hmph. Don't let the Dragon Clan's leader hear that—he'll swallow you whole. The Dragon God's name isn't for casual use." Negril scolded.

Night Raven chuckled nervously: "How could I? The Dragon Clan leader is such a great figure—how could he hear my oath?"

"Hmph…" Negril was about to say more when suddenly, a white firework shot up from the dock and exploded with a bang.

Everyone turned toward the firework. Lu Se frowned: "Why fire a white firework? It's daytime—you can't even see what it is."

Night Raven's face turned black. She cried urgently: "That's the Canglong Pirate Guild's signal—they're coming!"

The police station was on higher ground. Looking down from beyond its walls, they could see the harbor. Four black sailing ships had appeared beyond the port—each flying white sails, charging recklessly into the harbor.

One ship pulled alongside Night Raven's vessel. Agile pirates boarded it. The trail of the firework pointed directly to Night Raven's ship—clearly fired by the Canglong pirates who had boarded.

Perhaps a safety signal. On the second Canglong ship, a mage rose into the air, as if held by invisible hands, arms crossed, gliding forward smoothly—impressive posture.

Night Raven saw the mage and turned even darker: "An eighth-rank mage! Feng Canglong Lai Li! Oh my god—he came in person? He's not chasing me… oh right, I heard he comes ashore monthly to take female slaves for relaxation. Maybe today's his day."

"Lords, if he captures me, please kill me first. Don't let him get me. They say he loves women my age—plays all kinds of twisted games, then dumps them into slave camps. When he's done, he throws them into the sea to feed the fish."

"Oh god, I'm a fairly famous female pirate—I'll be a favorite. No, no—please kill me first!"

Whether due to Lai Li's horrific deeds triggering Night Raven's PTSD, or sheer panic, she shrieked hysterically, leaving Negril and Lu Se speechless.

He's just an eighth-rank mage—why act like a country bumpkin? She'd just seen Ange catch a Mojing cannonball bare-handed, yet she was terrified of an eighth-rank mage.

But that was normal. Like telling a commoner they're cursed by a god—they might shrug. But tell them they've been bitten by a snake—they'll panic, because they know the consequences.

Many had seen Night Raven being dragged up. The eighth-rank mage floated straight toward them, arms behind his back, robes fluttering—showing off his mastery of wind magic.

Hovering above the police station, he spotted Ange and the others—and Night Raven. His gaze locked on her, eyes glinting with lust:

"Oh? Isn't this Captain Blackout? What happened to your ship? Hey, this little girl is adorable—come play with Uncle…"

Before he finished speaking to Night Raven, he spotted the little angel. His target shifted instantly. Before he could speak to the angel, the angel spread her wings—radiant holy light blazed forth.

A beam of light flashed, turning Lai Li and his words to charred ash.

Night Raven's eyes bulged: "Th-this… you… you…"

Lightning yawned loudly: "So boring. When's Bruce coming? I'm dying of boredom."

Lu Se crossed his arms and nodded: "Yeah, these guys are too weak. None are worthy of drawing my Dragon Pattern Steel Core Silver Wire Inlaid Earth-Forged Gem-Enhanced Piercing Sword."

"M-M-Master Horse talks?!" Night Raven stammered, unable to speak clearly.

Lightning glanced at her—didn't correct her. Too lazy to bother.

One red firework after another shot into the sky. The Canglong pirates erupted like disturbed ants—all four ships moved. One of their three leaders, the eighth-rank mage Lai Li, had just been killed before everyone's eyes. If they didn't respond, the Canglong Pirate Guild would never survive on the ocean.

Each of the four ships deployed eight Mojing cannons—thirty-two cannons total—all aimed at the Zhiansuo on the hillside.

"Hmm. A bit of a challenge. Drink blood, my Dragon Pattern Steel… Core Sword!" Sensing the stares, Lu Se wisely swallowed the rest of the name.

With a clang, he drew his longsword—a blade of energy extended, flickering unpredictably.

Night Raven, clearly knowledgeable, trembled again: "H-High… High-Grade… High-Grade Sword Saint!"

Dragon shit—the lackey was a High-Grade Sword Saint? Who the hell are these people?

As everyone prepared to charge and smash the ships, a golden figure plunged from the sky, diving straight at the four pirate ships. Dragon breath swept across each vessel.

In an instant, all four ships were engulfed in flames. Screams erupted from the decks as pirates covered in dragon fire jumped into the sea like dumplings.

Too bad—even in the sea, dragon fire wouldn't die. Those touched turned to skeletons and sank to the ocean floor.

The surrounding pirate ships were burned into fiery cages, and the golden dragon turned and flew toward the Peace Office.

"D-D-Dragon! Are you not running?!" Heiyeya trembled again.

Not only did Lu Se not run—he stomped his feet and cursed: "Brucek, you scoundrel! You stole my kill!"

"Brucek? The Dragon Clan's patriarch?" Heiyeya suddenly remembered the name. She had felt it sounded familiar when she heard it before; now that she saw it was a golden dragon, the legend came rushing back.

Brucek landed before the Peace Office and said to everyone: "Sorry for the wait—climb aboard. I'll carry you across. Huh? Who's this girl? I've never seen her before."

Heiyeya stared at the massive head looming above her, her face twitching. She remembered how, just moments ago, she had sworn an oath in the name of the Dragon God, convinced such a great figure would never hear her.

Now the Dragon Clan's patriarch had arrived—what should she do? Would it swallow her whole? The thought made her eyes roll back and she fainted.

In the instant she fainted, she felt a flicker of relief: whether dead or alive, at least she wouldn't have to face it conscious.

Too bad she was too quick to rejoice—when she woke, her hand brushed beneath her and touched hard scales. Instantly, every hair on her body stood on end: I'm lying on a dragon's back?