Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End[1-200]

Chapter 157: Ray of Hope

Captain Jeff had a strong feeling that this would be the last day of his life.

He was already in his fifties, as evidenced by the grey hairs sprouting from his head. He had a short stature and a scruffy appearance, and he wore clothes typical of a seaman. It would have been easy to mistake him for a humble swabbie, but in truth, he was a powerful Origin Level 3 transcendent.

The ship he was working on was no ordinary ship either—it belonged to the prestigious Golden Fleet of the Sofya Kingdom. It was known far and wide to have conquered the seas of West Sia, before the other migrants of Ancient Austine had even managed to grasp a proper foothold on this new land yet.

The Golden Fleet could be divided into three tiers, and Jeff was the captain of the tier-1 vice flagship, SS Saint Paul. Without a doubt, he was one of the most influential figures in the Golden Fleet. Yet, the current situation left him in despair.

The Deepsea Scalemen were the archnemeses of the Golden Fleet.

The fleet actually had the experience and ability to deal with these darned saltwater fishes, but the internal fight they had not long ago caused them to lose one of the vice-captains of SS Saint Paul, resulting in the ship losing some of its functions.

In the Golden Fleet, it was nothing much for the captain to charge to the frontlines and get injured. While it could affect the crew's morale if something were to happen to the captain, there was no big harm as long as the captain didn't sustain severe injuries or die. However, the two vice-captains, in comparison, played a far more vital role.

The vice-captains of the Golden Fleet were all possessors of the High Elf Bloodline. They might not be powerful individually, but they held the keys to the magic tools on the ships.

The foundation of the Golden Fleet lay in the lost technologies of the high elves. The magic tools created using these technologies could only be activated by those who bear the bloodline of the Sofya House, which meant that the vice-captains were strategic resources to the fleet. Without them, they wouldn't be able to tap into the true prowess of the Golden Fleet.

The vice-captains were usually tucked safely away in the Control Room, but during an internal conflict a while ago, one of the vice-captains defected to the rebels and injured the other vice-captain, resulting in the severe weakening of the barrier around the Control Room. While they managed to emerge victorious in that battle, no one could have imagined that this mishap would bring about a catastrophe to them now.

"Damn it!"

Jeff stabbed both of his hands into the chest of one of the larger Origin Level 3 Scaleman Generals, and with a furious roar, he ripped the body in twain.

Blood splattered all around, dyeing the middle-aged man red. He looked at the astonished expression on the dying Scaleman General as he shook his head.

I might be a sucker in the water, but you're a sucker on land.

Jeff exhaled carefully as he clutched the gaping hole in his abdomen. Bearing with the excruciating pain, he turned to the crewmates around him and asked.

"How's Vice-Captain Laure?"

"Captain Jeff, Vice-Captain Laure... is already on his dying breath."

When the blood-covered ship doctor said those words, the faces of all of the crewmates crumbled. A stifling silence suddenly broke out amidst this cacophonous battlefield.

Vice-Captain Laure's death meant that their ship would stop operating. All of the installed magic tools that were protecting them thus far would be deactivated, and the outer electric net surrounding the ship would dissipate as well. By then, their enemies wouldn't just be the elites of the Scale Tribe but the countless monsters lurking in the vast sea.