Chapter 1287: Chapter 1287 Asher Cook
“You…”
Anthony clenched his fist, his teeth grinding loudly.
After all, he was the Chief of Deep Cold, second only to the Marshal in the organization!
And now, he was being humiliated by an unknown nobody?
“Your Excellency is…” Not only him, Willson Pavilion also felt insulted.
“We had an agreement with The North Sea’s Marshal that once Amadeus Fairbanks steps down, I would be the next Pavilion Master,” Ellis Ridge stepped in front of Templeton Lena and said frowning, “Why do you betray our agreement now?”
“Oh?”
Templeton Lena, with his hands clasped behind his back, smiled and said, “I remember there was a sentence in the letter the Marshal sent to Mr. Ridge.”
“Which sentence?”
Ellis Ridge felt a sense of foreboding.
“The Marshal sent three letters.”
Templeton Lena raised three fingers and said, “The content of all three letters was the same. Aside from the one sent to Olivia Warm, each of the other two contained an additional sentence.”
“If the person before you dies, you may take his place.”
Once these words were spoken, the atmosphere dramatically shifted!
The next moment!
Longsword through the chest!
“Brother Ridge, I’m sorry! Everyone wants this Pavilion Master seat!” Ethan Brandon, who had always supported Ellis Ridge, thrust his sword through Ellis Ridge right after Templeton Lena finished speaking!
“You…”
Ellis Ridge turned around, a copious amount of blood pouring from his mouth!
“Traitor…” His face flushed, he mustered his last strength, raised his right hand, and tremblingly pointed at Ethan Brandon, “You will meet the same fate!”
After saying this, Ellis Ridge staggered back a few steps and fell to the ground.
Dead.
“Only three letters.” Ethan Brandon said with a light chuckle, “I am the third person. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. Ellis Ridge, did you really think I, Ethan Brandon, would willingly be your lackey? On Migration Island, who doesn’t want to be the boss!”
The atmosphere once again fell silent.
“Amadeus Fairbanks, Deep Cold is determined to win!” Anthony struggled within himself, yet decided to forcefully take people.
“Excuse my frankness! Outside Migration Island, we have the navies of Deep Cold and Willson Pavilion. On the island, we have hundreds of us! Today, no matter who you are, Amadeus Fairbanks can’t be saved!”
He turned around, waved his hand, and said, “Take him away!”
“How dare you defy the order of The North Sea King!”
Templeton Lena’s voice was incredibly deep, “I warn you one last time!”
Behind him, The North Sea soldiers held cameras steady, filming everything that transpired.
“I must refuse!”
Anthony snorted lightly, and strode towards Amadeus Fairbanks.
What the hell!
The Marshal had just returned from The North Sea, reportedly having a pleasant conversation with The North Sea King.
The relations between the two, were supposed to be good.
Yet The North Sea interjects just when Amadeus Fairbanks is in trouble!
“Fire.” Templeton Lena took out a satellite phone and said quietly.
“Received.”
From the other end, Gabriel Abernathy’s icy voice came.
“What did you say?”
Anthony stopped in his tracks, looking at Templeton Lena.
“Just watch. It sounds terrifying.”
Templeton Lena took earplugs out of his pocket, inserted them into his ears, and stopped talking.
Boom!
Moments later!
A deafening explosion suddenly erupted!
Followed by wave after wave of booming sounds!
The whole Migration Island shook!
“What’s happening!” Ethan Brandon’s face drastically changed!
Could it be a volcanic eruption?
An undersea volcano?
Otherwise, why would Migration Island, peaceful for centuries, suddenly experience an earthquake?
Continual explosions were deafening!
Many people painfully covered their ears, struggling to stand on the shaking ground.
Shortly thereafter, several bare-chested men ran over in disarray.
Just then, the explosions also ceased.
“Where did these savages come from!”
Anthony pulled out the pistol at his waist, pointing it at them: “Stop!”
Bang!
After speaking, he fired a shot into the ground.
“Marshal!”
Several ‘savages’ stood frozen in place, startled.
“What are you shouting?”
Anthony picked at his ears, wondering if he had heard wrong.
It hurt palpably!
“Marshal, I’m your deputy!”
The savage rubbed his face, his voice breaking: “Don’t you recognize me?”
“German Shepherd?” Anthony leaned in for a closer look, unable to hide his surprise, “Why aren’t you staying on the ship? What are you doing here? And you look injured too?”
Upon a closer look, he realized these were no savages.
All three were members of the Deep Cold Navy; the speaker was even his deputy.
But those clothes…
“Just now! Don’t know where the shells came from, raining down like a storm, straight onto our fleet! Half a minute! Just half a minute! Everything was gone! More than twenty of our warships, all gone…”
Thump!
The Deep Cold Navy deputy fell to his knees in front of Anthony, his voice breaking: “Only me and these two brothers stepped out for a smoke, luckily escaping disaster. The rest, all died at sea!”
“What!”
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Anthony stepped back several paces, stunned.
“I’ve said it before, the fate of the disobedient is only death!”
Templeton Lena stared at Anthony, icily declaring: “Considering your blatant defiance of The North Sea’s will, The North Sea has decided to annihilate Deep Cold, completely erasing its name!”
“No!”
Anthony’s eyes bloodshot!
He had personally built the Deep Cold Navy!
He had hoped by merging with the Willson Pavilion Navy, it would further elevate his status within Deep Cold.
But now…
He had nothing!
A Navy Marshal, without a single ship!
What kind of Marshal was he!
“I’ll cut you down!”
Anthony threw away his pistol, drew his command saber from his belt, and furiously charged at Templeton Lena!
Bang!
A gunshot rang out.
Willson Pavilion Pavilion Master Asher Cook, who had remained silent throughout, pulled the trigger!
The bullet burst out, piercing the back of Anthony’s head, disappearing above Migration Island.
“Asher, you…”
Ethan Brandon was startled.
Remembering the letter he received, he warily regarded Asher Cook: “You’re not planning to kill me and take my place, are you?”
People who stanchly stab others in the back always worry about being backstabbed themselves.
“He just said there were only three letters. Conveniently, I am the one without a letter.” As the lowest ranked in the four-person meeting, Asher Cook naturally didn’t draw Ethan Brandon’s attention.
Eliminating Elias Ridge and Olivia Warm, Ethan Brandon would hold supreme power.
“That’s good!”
Though Ethan Brandon said this, he couldn’t stop worrying.
“Men! Hack all these Deep Cold scoundrels down!”
He bellowed, and the island guards swarmed out, killing all the subordinates Anthony had brought.
Seizing the chaos, Ethan Brandon, holding his Longsword, quickly walked towards Amadeus Fairbanks.
He had to kill the former Pavilion Master!
Otherwise, once The North Sea intervened, his own death was certain.
“Amadeus Fairbanks! Sorry about this!”
Ethan Brandon thrust his sword!
But the sword stopped, just one centimeter from Amadeus Fairbanks’s chest.
“Asher Cook, what do you mean?” Ethan Brandon looked up to see Asher Cook before him.
Since morning, he had felt something was off with Asher Cook.
Now, it was even weirder!
Asher Cook held the sword blade between two fingers, preventing Ethan Brandon from killing Amadeus Fairbanks.
“I forgot to tell you something.”
The usually reticent Asher Cook straightened up, stepping forward!
Clink!
As he stepped, he snapped the sword tip and fiercely stabbed it into Ethan Brandon’s chest.
“The real Asher Cook died long ago, and I, am actually The North Sea Prince Consort.”
After whispering this into Ethan Brandon’s ear, ‘Asher Cook’ revealed a chilling smile.
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