Chapter 39: Decaying grieve
Chapter 39: Decaying grieve
Translated by: Chua
Edited by:I and Elkassar
On the third morning, the weather finally cleared up. The glaring sun rays, spotless white beach, emerald-green coconut trees and azure blue sky. This was the most beautiful scenery of the Caribbean sea. However, within Tortuga castle, everyone was trembling with fear and trepidation under the thunderous rage of Little Lord Fokke, they had no desire to appreciate such a scenery. The only thing on their mind was that Madam Lord Fokke had been missing for 3 whole days, furthermore, she may very well be suffering on Herb island. Therefore, Tortuga castle had dispatched their fastest ship out earlier.
As usual Sheyan continued his practice of basic footwork with Blind Matt the next morning, sadly this morning’s hard work ultimately did not raise a level of basic footwork. Still he did not place much thoughts on that matter. When it was close to noon, that ship that was dispatched out sailed back swiftly into the port, however at the masthead there was a black flag.
That flag was called a mourning flag, it meant that an important person had passed away. The pirates were already extremely used to news of death, regarding an important character it was pretty clear-cut. Chief officer, or the captain, even crew head or navigator was a possibility! Accidents occurred daily out at sea, a black flag was a common sight, therefore nobody linked that mourning flag to the death of the noble Madam Lord Fokke.
At this point in time, Tortuga castle was brimming with an extremely nervous atmosphere. It was as though all the servants had committed an error. Ever since Madam Lord Fokke did not return to the ship, the originally cool and reclusive Lord Fokke became greatly agitated, once in awhile he would vent his anger on his servants. Within the past 3 days, there were already over 10 corpses that had been carried out of the castle, all of whom were flogged to death. All of them suffered such a tragic fate because they had caused a tiny blunder in the form of bad food or even accidentally knocking over a plate. Therefore, nobody dared to go within a proximity of 10 metres to Lord Fokke. These miserable servants could only carry out their necessary duties in trembling fear, and once they completed their task they would instantly leave.
After the ship belonging to Tortuga castle neared the shores, someone went ahead to report to Lord Fokke, afterwards a linen-wrapped corpse was lowered from the ship. On the thick shroud, there was a clear drenched trace, it was obvious that under the warmth of the caribbean sea, this rotting corpse had begun effusing out bodily fluid. Therefore those carrying the body had a heavy and cringing look, as though they would vomit at any second.
The corpse was quickly carried to a broad hall on the third floor of the castle, this was also Lord Fokke’s personal area. Under normal circumstance, if a servant had wandered in here by mistake they would equally suffer a miserable fate. Two seamen placed the body down and immediately hurried out. Looking at them covering their mouths, it was obvious that their vomit had already rose into their throats, using great effort to suppress themselves from spraying it everywhere.
A total silence.
Leaving one the impression of a tomb.
A housefly was attracted by the rotting stench, buzzing in from outside the window. Its life goal was to first indulge in a sumptuous meal and then laying hundreds of eggs before happily flying off. However, upon approaching the corpse, its wings that could flap for over 300 times per minute suddenly halted. The rich moisture in the air assembled from all over the port, forming into a piece of sparkling and pure ice-cube freezing the housefly within midair, as it crashed to the ground instantly.
This tiny piece of ice was like brittle glass shattering into fragments upon impact, of course the frozen housefly was not spared.
At this moment, a hand wearing a black glove pushed open the door, Lord Fokke with an unkempt beard strolled in. His appearance was dejected and depressed, if not for his wealthy outfit, he would have looked similar to a random hooligan on the streets of Tortuga port. Inside his eyes was a dangerous and crazy glow, this was definitely not a good omen.
“Except for me, nobody has the rights touch her.” Little Lord Fokke pressed his left hand on his chest, unable to skip his lordly gracefulness, humbly bowing at the place that the housefly had fell.
“Not even a housefly.”
This Lord then knelt by the dead body, extending his hands to slowly open up the linen cloth. A rich rotting stench surged in. But looking at Little Lord Fokke’s expression, it was as though he did not even notice it. His actions were extremely gentle and precise, just like how a groom unveiled his wife with such warmth and affection. This action lasted throughout, opening the bag to reveal a soaked and bloated, decaying Sally Hepburn.
“Beloved Sally, welcome home.” Little Lord Fokke warmly embraced this drenched corpse, as though she was still deep asleep and he could wake her up. His eyes carried a dense sweetness akin to honey. “I’ll bring you to see your gardens, yesterday a merchant ship delivered the black tulips you loved. Just based on this, don’t you owe me a kiss?”
Little Lord Fokke lovingly gazed at his wife, that swelling face and sulk had already dissipated from his face. This guy tightly embraced the corpse, passionately kissing the lips that were flowing with yellow liquid from the ulcerate swelling!
After a brief moment, the entire Tortuga castle could hear a agonizing wailing coming from the third floor! Upon hearing that sound, it gave one a heart wrenching and suffocating sensation, just like a wolf, giving up a hysterical howl in a world of ice and snow! This irresistible sound reverberated throughout the castle for close to 15 minutes, and finally stopped.
Not long after, Lord Fokke drenched in the pungent stench reappeared to the audience, there was no way of telling any difference in him. Instead the sun rays beating down on his body gradually darken. The ruler of Tortuga port declared his first command in 3 days:
“Invite the great alchemy Mr Peigan, pay him as much as he demands! Most importantly, I want to see him in person within the hour! Hurry up! Now!”
One had to admit that in the face of such a lucrative prospect, Mr Peigan became extremely efficient and fast. After a mere 10 minutes, Little Lord Fokke’s order was satisfied. After an hour, the old and decrepit Mr Peigan was already brought to the prison beneath the castle.
It was clear that this place had been tidied up, any offender no matter the crime would be imprisoned here. Yet there was a moist stale air inside this place. People with sinusitis would definitely sneeze profusely over here. After entering the second basement of the prison, the floor beneath the feet actually produced waves of cold air, rising up to the heart as though a person’s bone marrow would likewise be frozen. Mr Peigan mumbled a few words to himself, following that he mysterious retrieved a circular neck glass bottle from a box on his hand. He drained the glass of light blue liquid in one gulp, simultaneously looking very revitalized from it.
After Little Lord Fokke observed Peigan’s actions, his pupils slightly shrank but continue to lead the way. He only stopped when he reached an extremely spacious underground room. This underground room was overwhelming cold, in the middle stationed a sparkling and translucent broad icy platform, its height was as tall as a person’s waist. Above the icy platform was placed a female corpse that had been fermented by the Caribbean rain for 3 days. Of course, due to the lower temperature of the ice, the stench it emitted had already reached an approachable level.
“Hmm….although saying like this is unmannerly, I still need to ask, what area can i assist you with.” Mr Peigan had endured watching the Little Lord Fokke gazing at the female corpse for 10 minutes and finally decided to say something.
Little Lord Fokke suddenly turned his head, his eyes was blazing with a raging insanity, obviously he did not appreciate someone interrupting his train of thoughts. However, that intense mood was like a dragonfly touching the water, leaving as quickly as it came. The ruler of Tortuga port spoke out with a hoarse voice:
“My apologies Mr Peigan, I have not been sleeping well these days, and am feeling frustrated. Please examine this body for me, find the cause of death, of course it will be better if you could deduce the assassinator. If you can I will double the payment fees and materials.”
Alchemy Peigan raised his brows as he observed the body, his phrased with words with relative eloquence:
“Respected Lord sir, old Peigan is merely an alchemy practitioner, this skill is not my domain…. Furthermore this female corpse has already decayed severely…..my God, will you grant me a miracle today?”
Unknowingly, the stern like an iceberg Little Lord Fokke was already holding onto an ash brown colored pouch. This pouch looked similar to any ordinary pouch, however its appearance radiated a layer of glow, as though a clear river covered it! This was a model high grade alchemy material. The old senile looking Peigan nimbly thought of a legend upon seeing that pouch, and linked it with an extremely high level item. His lips began to tremble violently.
“This… isn’t this the…. Endless gold pouch?”