Madmen don't keep diaries

Chapter 322 321 The Empress's Majesty

The lower district is the port area; the lower district is the factory area.

Apart from the temple monks fighting on the breakwater, the entire lower city area was almost a ghost town.

The leaden-gray clouds, thick as cast iron, rolled down from the sky towards the earth.

Lightning flashes occasionally burst through the gaps in the clouds, like spasmodic, pale cracks.

The clouds hung low, and whenever lightning illuminated the dim rain curtain, the outline of the church spire in the factory area could be seen. The lightning rods at the top of the spire pierced into the clouds, outlining wispy filaments that wove a net that covered the sky and the earth.

A strong wind, carrying a salty, fishy smell, cut into the streets and alleys, and roof tiles flew into the air like locusts.

The carved wooden windows of the teahouse on Linlang Street were torn from their frames, and the four ink characters "superior quality tea" on the window paper were cut into pieces by the wind, which, along with the rain, pounded against the large iron gate of the mental hospital across the street, making a loud clanging sound.

The torrential rain was still intense, as if the Milky Way had been poured out.

The rain pierced the tarpaulin roof of the butcher's stall, washing over the old wooden table. The dried bloodstains on the table were soaked and turned murky, then mixed with the rainwater and flowed into the sewer.

The hurricane converged into a ghostly shriek in the narrow alley, and the sound of roof tiles colliding with the rickshaw's tin canopy was like the clatter of thousands of cymbals.

The sounds of wind and rain blended together, as if only this one sound remained in the world.

……

The colorful scales tore a gap in the wind barrier, and countless merfolk rushed ashore.

Despite the merfolk's fearlessness, they still struggled to gain the upper hand once ashore.

The Wind and Rain Temple has a wealth of experience accumulated by its predecessors in dealing with merfolk. As soon as the defense line was established, all sorts of talismans were put into use.

Before the first group of merfolk who came ashore could even see what the cultivators looked like, they screamed in agony amidst the intoxicating rain soaked in magical power. Wisps of green smoke rose from their bodies, and they died with their eyes rolled back after only two steps.

The merfolk cultivators who followed immediately responded. They made hand gestures and stirred the seawater with their tails, causing the waves along the shore to become turbulent. Columns of water rose into the air, carrying the charging merfolk down towards the center of the cultivators.

The two sides immediately engaged in a bloody hand-to-hand battle upon contact.

The cultivators formed groups of three: one faced the enemy head-on, one used spells to harass them, and one attacked their flanks.

In an instant, countless mermaid tails were cut off and flew into the air.

Just as the monks of the Wind and Rain Temple knew the weaknesses of the merfolk, the merfolk naturally took precautions as well.

Behind the battle line, the female merman emerged from the water, slapping the surface with her fish tail and letting out a shrill scream. Instantly, many cultivators were stunned and trapped on the spot. In a daze, the male merman swung his long tail like a steel whip and stabbed, stringing the cultivators together like candied hawthorns.

In just a few breaths, the breakwater was already covered in blood, which even the heaviest rain could not wash away.

Not to mention the horrific scenes on the main battlefield, the battle between the Wind and Rain Goddess and the Seven-Colored Scales in the sky was also extremely dangerous.

One of them rides the wind, looking down from a high vantage point, while the other treads the waves, eyeing the enemy with predatory intent.

At first glance, there seemed to be no big movements, but upon closer inspection, the curtain of rain between the two sometimes collapsed and sometimes recovered, with invisible ripples occasionally bursting open, each time accompanied by a muffled loud bang.

This is a silent battle between the gale and the sound waves.

Even with her leisure time, the Goddess of Wind and Rain glanced at the battlefield beneath her feet.

The seven-colored scaled fish raised its eyes, a fierce glint flashing in them, and a tentacle squeezed through the wind barrier, shooting towards the Wind and Rain Goddess.

Without even changing her expression, Lady Wind and Rain swung her soft sword down with a flick of her sleeve. A cold light flashed, and the thick tentacles were severed as if cutting vegetables.

But it wasn't over yet. The severed tentacle instantly transformed into a "water python," continuing to coil towards the Wind and Rain Goddess. At the same time, an invisible ripple, arriving before the wind and rain goddess, struck from behind, as if to cleave her in two.

The Goddess of Wind and Rain remained calm and composed. She took a half-step with light, lotus-like steps, and her figure instantly transformed into a gust of wind and disappeared without a trace.

The "anaconda" lost its target and crashed to the ground amidst the rain, shattering into a pool of seawater. Invisible ripples continued to spread backward, sweeping over the highest point of the factory district—the sanctuary's tower. The upper half of the tower's spire, struck headfirst, broke and collapsed in the rain. The Seven-Scaled Fish, taking advantage of this respite, churned its dense tentacles, widening the gap in the wind barrier, and the enormous fish head was now mostly inside.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept in from the side.

"howl--"

The giant, seven-colored scales opened its mouth and let out an angry howl.

A piercing metallic scraping sound rang out, and the scales on the side of the Seven-Colored Scale's neck flew off, leaving a gaping wound that exposed smooth flesh and blood. Crimson blood shot into the air against the backdrop of the rain.

The figure of the Wind and Rain Goddess appeared from the wind. She lightly shook her soft sword, and the narrow blade shook the blood droplets into mist and dissipated.

At this moment, she was very close to the Seven-Colored Scale. The Seven-Colored Scale shook its head vigorously, and countless tentacles twisted and waved, baring its teeth and claws as it pounced on the Wind and Rain Goddess.

These tentacles are countless; they regenerate once severed. Simply cutting them down is not only useless, but will also drag you into the mire.

So the Goddess of Wind and Rain raised her hand and pulled up a curtain of rain, countless raindrops turned into arrows to meet the enemy, and she withdrew immediately.

The tentacles missed their target and were riddled with holes by the rain of arrows.

Seven-Colored Scales was a step too slow again. In its exasperation, it roared once more, sending out powerful sonic waves that shattered the surrounding rain into fine mist.

In such a downpour, the moisture lingered for a long time, making the already dim and blurry vision seem as if it were being seen through a layer of frosted glass.

But this is not water vapor.

The Goddess of Wind and Rain sensed something and turned to look into the distance.

The port to the east was deserted; everyone had long since fled, leaving only the searchlight on the watchtower still spinning on its own.

The warm yellow light from the searchlight formed a beam that stood out conspicuously in the fog.

It turned out to be foggy.

A beam of light swept across the sky, illuminating a fleeting figure.

Only when we got closer could we finally see it clearly.

The man was wearing a plaid suit, a wide-brimmed hat, and a thin pipe in his mouth. He climbed the steps formed by mist, seemingly moving slowly, but he arrived in front of the Goddess of Wind and Rain in just a few breaths.

With his arrival, a thick fog descended, slowly swirling in the rain.

"I hope I'm not too late."

The God of Mist nodded slightly to the Goddess of Wind and Rain.

The Goddess of Wind and Rain said expressionlessly, "I thought you weren't coming."

The God of Mist held a pipe in one hand and gently stroked his mustache with the other, a smile playing on his lips: "How could I be absent from such an important day? I was just a little slow on the way here. After all, I'm not an empress who's always here."

Despite the God of Mist's polite words, the Empress's eyes remained calm and undisturbed as she stared at him quietly.

Seven-Colored Scales stopped making any further moves, its gaze fixed on the two people who were so close at hand.

The God of Mist met the Goddess of Wind and Rain's gaze without flinching, but his smile gradually became strange.

At this moment, no one spoke, and the atmosphere was heavy and eerie.

The Goddess of Wind and Rain spoke first: "I mean, I thought you didn't dare to come."

The God of Mist raised his eyebrows and laughed heartily: "Alright, just a little short. If Your Majesty had acted any more imposing, I might have really been afraid."

(End of this chapter)