Nascent Soul Rebirth: Starting as a Wizard

Patton reacted the fastest.

All the expressions on his face vanished instantly, replaced by a rock-like coldness and decisiveness.

Without asking another question, he darted like a cheetah toward the pigeon loft next to the checkpoint tower.

He yanked open the cage door and precisely scooped out a homing pigeon with unusually vibrant and colorful feathers and blood-red eyes.

This is the "Gale Feather," which contains the bloodline of a low-level wind-type monster. Its speed and endurance far surpass those of ordinary birds, making it one of the highest-level means of communication within the territory.

He quickly pulled a charcoal pencil and a small piece of waterproof paper from his pocket.

He wrote the words "Large sea monster attacking the port, plural, danger, immediate rescue" at a speed that was almost invisible.

Insert the thin copper tube into the pigeon's leg, tighten the cap, and throw it forcefully towards the castle!

"Go!" The red-eyed carrier pigeon flapped its wings, producing a soft whooshing sound.

It shot into the sky at a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow, and in the blink of an eye it became a tiny dot.

"The message will reach the Viscount in as little as two hours!" Barton whispered to the air, as if confirming.

He whirled around abruptly, his voice booming like thunder, carrying an unquestionable command and a death-defying resolve:

"Aurora! Rex! Henk! ...Everyone! Full armor! Prepare horses! Check weapons and potions! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!!"

The knights whose names were called responded without hesitation, shouting, "Yes, sir!"

In an instant, the burly men who had been laughing and cursing just moments before turned cold and focused.

Like a drawn sword, an invisible aura of menace rose from his body.

They charged toward the barracks with astonishing efficiency, their heavy footsteps echoing and the clanging of armor striking each other.

The restless neighing of warhorses and the scraping of weapons as they were drawn... instantly intertwined to create a tense prelude to war.

Solo's heart was pounding, but he forced himself to calm down.

He darted to Barton, who was hurriedly checking his greatsword, and grabbed the man's armored arm:

"Instructor! Take me with you!"

Patton whirled around, his brow furrowed, his gaze piercing Solo, and without hesitation, he growled:

"Nonsense! This isn't training, nor is it bandit suppression! It's a 'giant sea monster'! Are you going to your death? Stay at the checkpoint, that's an order!"

"I'm not going to the front lines!" Solo said quickly, his gaze meeting Patton's without flinching.

"I'm watching from afar; I need to know exactly what we're facing!"

Even if they can't be of much help, at least they can keep watch from a distance and assist with the evacuation!

I promise I will never set foot on the shoreline! If things go wrong, I will retreat immediately!

Barton stared intently into Solo's eyes, and in them he saw more than just youthful passion and stubbornness.

There is also an unshakable decisiveness and clarity.

He glanced again at the knights who had already mounted their horses and were waiting for his command.

Time was of the essence; every second could mean the deaths of more people at the port.

"Hoo—" Barton exhaled a heavy breath, as if he had made a difficult decision.

His large, gauntlet-clad hand slammed down on Solo's shoulder with such force that Solo's bones cracked slightly.

"Alright! You can come along! But remember your words—remember them well! Absolutely, absolutely do not approach the main battlefield!"

Your task is to observe, and, if possible, assist the port guards in evacuating civilians using crossbows from an absolutely safe distance!

Once we give the signal to retreat, or if the herd shows signs of spreading inland.

Don't hesitate, turn around and run right now! Run as fast as you can! Understand?!

"Understood!" Solo nodded emphatically, his eyes solemn.

"Mount up!" Barton leaped onto the tall, heavily armored warhorse that the militiamen had led over.

Moments later, several warhorses carrying fully armed knights charged out of the checkpoint like wild beasts unleashed.

The horses' hooves kicked up clouds of yellow dust as they galloped along the coastal road leading to Silver Creek Harbor.

Solo changed into half-body armor, carried the crossbow on his back, and rode closely behind the rear of the group.

……

A strong wind blew in, carrying the smell of the sea and a faint... burnt and bloody odor.

A long line of dust rushed towards the port that had become the entrance to hell.

After about half an hour of speeding, before even reaching the port, the catastrophic scene and sounds were already upon us.

The first thing that enters the senses is sound:

It was no longer a vague clamor, but a clear, terrifying symphony mixed with countless elements of despair.

The hoarse, ferocious roars of sea monsters were like muffled thunder rolling across the beach, accompanied by the rumble of collapsing buildings and the piercing crack of breaking wood.

The sounds of human screams and cries mingled with the faint, feeble clashing of weapons.

There was also the dull, deafening sound of waves crashing violently against the rocks and seawalls, as if the sea itself was also angry.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of blood and the acrid stench of burning wood.

And a pungent odor, characteristic of some marine mammals, resembling a mixture of rotting seaweed and ozone.

When the group rushed up a high slope overlooking the sea, the devastation of Silver Creek Harbor was finally revealed to everyone without reservation.

The once well-planned dock area has now been completely transformed into a living hell.

Several wooden piers extending into the sea appeared to have been brutally broken by the hand of a giant.

Broken planks and twisted foundation piles lay miserably obliquely in the water, or floated with the waves.

The sea was littered with shipwrecks, scattered cargo containers, and other unidentifiable floating debris.

It turned the originally azure seawater into a murky brownish-yellow.

Warehouses and fishermen's huts along the coast are burning fiercely, the fires fueled by the wind, licking at everything flammable.

Thick smoke billowed like an ominous column of smoke, shooting straight into the sky and obscuring the sun.

Several medium-sized sailboats that had not yet left the port capsized, with only part of their hulls visible.

Some were ignited, transforming into giant torches on the sea surface, crackling and popping as they slowly sank, creating whirlpools.

At the heart of all this devastation, the chilling presence that freezes the soul, lies within the breakwater.

It was an unimaginable giant starfish, as if it had crawled straight out of a deep-sea nightmare!

Its main body is estimated to be over thirty meters in diameter, with five incredibly thick arms and legs covered in bumps and bone spurs.

The total span is nearly fifty or sixty meters, like a flower of death blooming in the harbor.

Its body is not soft, but covered with a thick, rough, dark-colored keratinous carapace, like a seabed reef.

The shell is covered with a dense mass of barnacles, shells, and unidentified marine parasites, as if it has been deposited over countless years.

Each arm and limb was covered with pale, jagged, and sharp bone spurs, the tips of which gleamed with a cold light.

On the center of its flattened body's ventral surface, one can see a terrifying mouthpart covered with ring-shaped sharp teeth that is constantly wriggling.

Surrounding it were several pairs of eerie green, will-o'-the-wisps of compound eyes of varying sizes, coldly surveying the surrounding destruction.

It relies solely on the suckers and spikes at the ends of its arms to cling and move.

Each movement was accompanied by violent ground tremors and the roar of buildings being crushed and pushed down, truly earning the name "moving mountain of flesh"!

Around this terrifying "star-shaped hill," hundreds of various sea creatures, driven by its oppressive power or attracted by its bloodshed, formed the vanguard of destruction.

The "siege crab" is nearly ten meters long, with a thick shell like a mobile fortress and claws strong enough to cut through masts.