The Disgrace of the Ninth Circle

As the ghost ship cleaved through wind and waves, the enemy fleet finally appeared on the horizon. Twelve massive warships closed in in a semicircular envelopment, each enemy vessel flying banners of howling wind and raging tides. Lightning gathered along the masts of every warship, discharging continuously toward the ghost ship. Yet the dark mist seemed to possess an immense obscuring and deflecting effect against the lightning. Most bolts dissipated within the black fog, and the few that managed to pierce through were deflected off toward who knew where. Was this how naval warfare was fought? Anbaixiu felt his horizons broaden. What followed ought to be a thrilling high-seas chase, right? Would they drift around turns, maneuvering their warships like racing carts, and bombard each other with dazzling displays of magic? Unfortunately, what actually ensued left Anbaixiu rather disappointed. The ghost ship rammed into a Children of the Storm warship at top speed, its sharp swordfish figurehead plunging straight into the enemy vessel's hull. Both ships shuddered violently, locking tightly together—and with that, Phil initiated a boarding action. Anbaixiu: ... Such a primitive way to fight; what a complete waste of a ghost ship. The black mist was clearly so potent, screening sight and senses while even deflecting magical bombardments. Had Anbaixiu been fighting this battle, he would have maintained his distance within the mist and used that advantage to drown the enemy in a deluge of spells. Yet Phil the Sharp Spear seemed wholly unaccustomed to such tactics. He merely raised his harpoon high and hurled it forward with all his might. The hideous harpoon shot forth like lightning, skewering three sailors opposite him in a row before pinning them to the deck. "Hahaha! Let me stab a few more today!" In the very next second, the fishman bounded onto the enemy deck, wrenched free his harpoon, and began slaughtering left and right. Anbaixiu could see now that Phil was of the berserker mold: swift, tremendously strong, and while his body looked frail and rotted, he swung his harpoon through arcs of dancing lightning as if completely unfazed. The enemy ship carried plenty of storm priests, raising warhammers to summon lightning and crash it down upon him. Yet whether Phil's flesh was crushed or charred, it only made his onslaught fiercer. And Phil was not fighting alone. Once he secured a foothold on the deck, hordes of specters surged from his ship, lunging toward the Children of the Storm of the Raging Tide Kingdom. The specters' method of combat was peculiar: ignoring physical armor, they plunged directly into flesh to possess their prey. Many of the Children of the Storm were overtaken before they could evade, turning to swing their swords at their own comrades. It was a one-sided slaughter. The Children of the Storm were not, after all, paladins who worshiped the Lord of the Dawn. Their lightning magic was formidable, but it carried little suppressing power against the undead. As for the ordinary sailors who knew no spells, they could only flee in panic before the incorporeal specters, having no way to resist. Anbaixiu finally understood why Phil held these Children of the Storm in such contempt. The disparity in combat capability was indeed enormous; the enemy was being massacred without the slightest ability to fight back. In under three minutes, all the Children of the Storm on the deck had been wiped out, while Phil had suffered only light injuries. It could well be called an overwhelming victory. Yet that was only the first enemy ship. Two more Children of the Storm warships burst through the black mist in a pincer attack, violently slamming into the ghost ship. Anbaixiu had to levitate to keep from being knocked off his feet by the collision. Then, these Children of the Storm initiated another round of boarding. Anbaixiu watched, utterly speechless. What kind of battle was this? The Children of the Storm charged toward Anbaixiu, concentrating their arrows and lightning upon him. Anbaixiu raised a Shield spell, blocking every attack. Sigh. With the flames of war reaching him, Anbaixiu had no choice but to act in self-defense. With a wave of his staff, he seized one of the Children of the Storm with Telekinesis and swung him like a warhammer, sending others flying into the sea. After slamming into who knew how many men, the man Anbaixiu held was reduced to a pulp of mangled flesh. When Anbaixiu dropped the corpse, the mangled mass squirmed and staggered to its feet—Anbaixiu had already transformed the body into a zombie, which promptly lunged at its former companions. Undead combat was just that straightforward: the more enemies died, the more undead arose. Moreover, a wizard's killing efficiency far surpassed that of swinging a harpoon. Anbaixiu eradicated the Children of the Storm across both ships, moving vastly faster than Phil. Charred black all over, Phil returned to the ghost ship and declared in awe, "Incredible! As expected of the commander's friend!" Anbaixiu casually cast a Dark Healing spell on Phil. Infused with dark mana, the fishman's charred flesh began squirming and knitting together. Though he still looked half-rotted, the bulk of his injuries had actually mended. Phil said gratefully, "Thanks! Wizards really are something else compared to warriors. Shame there aren't many folks in our crew who know magic." Anbaixiu was in no mood for small talk and cautioned Phil, "Put that aside for now. Don't you feel something is off? These Children of the Storm are far too weak. There isn't even a single high-tier storm priest among them." Though the Raging Tide Kingdom had a sparse population, they could not have driven the continental nations to gnash their teeth in helpless rage relying solely on such small fry. From what Phil had said, he had clashed with the Raging Tide Kingdom countless times. They should have known his combat prowess well; they would not send mere fodder to throw their lives away. Phil scratched his head. "Maybe they ran out of men? The commander launched a brutal raid on them a while back, slaughtering the Children of the Storm until they didn't dare set sail. Reckon all their powerhouses are dead?" Anbaixiu was rendered speechless. Senior Mute hadn't exaggerated in the slightest—this fishman truly had no brains. If they really had run out of men, why would they initiate an assault? Wouldn't that just be sending people to die? The Children of the Storm were crazy, not stupid. Something felt wrong. Anbaixiu's instincts were sharp; there had to be a trap. Unfortunately, before he could figure out what it was, two more warships crashed through the black mist and rammed them. Those seemingly feeble Children of the Storm howled as they launched yet another boarding action, as though oblivious to the fact that they were throwing their lives away. Phil had no time to chat with Anbaixiu and plunged back into battle, brandishing his harpoon. Anbaixiu, however, refrained from stepping in again. Instead, he took to the air, looking down upon the entire battlefield. There were thirteen Children of the Storm warships in total. Twelve appeared largely identical, like standard-issue vessels. Only one was exceptionally massive—a colossal dreadnought adorned across its hull with lightning runes. This warship fired lightning ceaselessly, attempting to disperse the black fog. The other warships weaved back and forth through the mist, navigating by sound in their search for the ghost ship. It seemed like a desperate suicide tactic born of helplessness, but as Anbaixiu ascended higher into the air, he caught sight of the anomaly. The flagship of the Children of the Storm was not firing lightning aimlessly. It was using its allies' suicidal assaults to draw the enemy's attention while secretly preparing a colossal spell. Anbaixiu could see thousands of lightning bolts intertwining midair, forming an enormous magic circle. The magic circle blanketed the entire expanse of the black mist. Terrifying destructive power converged within it, seemingly on the verge of reaching a critical threshold. Once the magic circle activated, everything within the black mist would suffer an indiscriminate bombardment. Even if it obliterated Phil and his Swordfish, their own ordinary warships would undoubtedly be buried alongside them. Anbaixiu couldn't help marvelling, "Ruthless indeed—not even sparing their own men? Does this pirate crew have that deep a grudge against the Raging Tide Kingdom?" Though he was disinclined to embroil himself in others' disputes, Anbaixiu had come here seeking a favor; he still needed Senior Mute's help to search for an elven artifact. Phil had broken away from the main fleet specifically to welcome him. Under such circumstances, if Phil were killed by the Children of the Storm, Anbaixiu would surely take the blame. "Fine, then. For the sake of the drink you treated me to." Anbaixiu summoned the Golden Throne and began chanting his incantation with deep concentration. A brilliant radiance erupted, making Anbaixiu resemble a blazing sun that illuminated the surrounding sea. The sudden light naturally drew the attention of the Children of the Storm. Several bolts of lightning shot into the sky, attempting to blast Anbaixiu down. Yet all were repelled by Anbaixiu's Shield. Their spellcasters were all sustaining the massive lightning circle and could spare no focus, while the few stragglers left behind had no hope of piercing Anbaixiu's Shield. As the incantation quickened, the mana Anbaixiu gathered grew increasingly gargantuan, the horrifying pressure seeming as though it would depress the surrounding sea by half a meter. Fighting amidst the black mist, Phil also sensed this abnormal power and looked up at the sky. He understood little of magic, but he could tell something was amiss and barked an immediate order: "Quick! Submerge right now!" Ghost ships had one great advantage: none of the crew could drown, and the vessel's propulsion came neither from wind nor waves, but from the dark mana of the ghost ship itself. Thus, a ghost ship could be used as a submarine. Phil had no idea what was happening, but hiding first was certainly the right move. Pinned between several damaged warships, the ghost ship began to groan and crunch as its hull scraped against the other vessels in its descent. In a mere dozen seconds, the Swordfish had already sunk halfway below the surface. And Anbaixiu's spell had reached completion. Four streaks of fire flared across the originally dark sky, like stars tumbling from the heavens, plummeting with an aura that promised the annihilation of all things. High-tier Evocation spell—Meteor Swarm! This was what was commonly known as a ninth-circle spell. Magic at this level possessed the power to level an entire city. Yet Meteor Swarm also bore the moniker "The Disgrace of the Ninth Circle." Its accuracy was notoriously abysmal; the vast majority of Meteor Swarms completely missed their intended targets, expending massive amounts of mana only to blast a few giant craters into the earth. If luck was particularly poor, it might even crash down upon one's own allies. Under normal circumstances, only in massive-scale warfare—where enemy ranks were packed so densely one could hit them with eyes closed—did Meteor Swarm find its use. Yet the casting time of this spell was exceptionally long. Even with Anbaixiu drawing upon the power of the Golden Throne, chanting the incantation took dozens of seconds. Its visible casting effects were blatant as well, making it easy to interrupt. All of these severe constraints had earned Meteor Swarm the reputation as the disgrace of the ninth circle. Yet despite so many drawbacks, Meteor Swarm remained a ninth-circle spell for the simple reason that its destructive might was truly terrifying. Once it hit, the result was utter devastation. And Anbaixiu just happened to be a Divination wizard whose aim would never go astray! Four blazing meteors plunged downward, hurtling toward the colossal flagship as if guided by unseen eyes.