Leif jumped four meters and slammed his shield into the soft grass.

The noise of the battlefield was imminent.

Leif was surprised for a moment, bowed his head and burrowed into the pillar of the villa, squinting his eyes to carefully examine the unexpected battlefield.

It's an invasion.

Falling torches raised a sparse and thick smoke on the grass, and the smoke was filled with guards of all sorts of dead shapes.

Those who were cut in the waist, those who were cut off by their heads, those who were shot several times, and those who were wounded all over their bodies......

One by one, they maintained the appearance of fighting or fleeing, their empty eyes looking at the sky, silent and reflective.

There were more than a dozen strong men with short guns and long knives, stepping on pools of blood and gathering towards the gate of the villa.

Leading them was the brief neighbor of the inn in Singapore, the bearded man who was as strong as a bear.

He carried a huge square, black-bladed knife on his shoulder.

The guillotine has an inverted triangular cross-section, and the handle with a blade is one meter five or six long, and the edge of the blade rudely breaks out a huge row of serrations, like the fangs of some kind of creature.

And it was so thick that it was so thick that the back of the knife was close to two fingers thick, and even Lef, who was particularly fond of heavy weapons, couldn't figure out what the value of such a casting was.

The beard waved his guillotine, carrying the wind and thunder, and slashed at the gate of the villa, and slashed the whole gate with a bang.

There was a scream of panic from inside the house, presumably in response to some guard guarding the door being hit by a flying door.

Leif got excited.

The strength and skill of the slash of the beard are no less than that of a good Viking warrior, in other words, he is not a weak chicken that can be seen everywhere, but a fierce opponent!

And Valhalla's warriors won't let go of every rival.

For a while, Leif completely forgot Lorraine's instructions, and regardless of whether the other party found him or not, he threw himself out with his shield and sword.

"Oh!!!"

Before the person arrived, the sound came first, and the beard who was about to enter the door paused and glanced at Leif in a different way.

"Deal with him." He said to his own Indian coachman.

The coachman smirked and licked his dry lips, pulling out a huge wheel axe from behind him: "Looks like a good opponent." ”

As he spoke, the coachman walked out of the center of the crowd as if he were splitting the water, and walked one step, two steps, three steps into a running run as fast as he could, and at the fifth step he stopped sharply, lunged, twisted his feet, and threw off his long arms.

Wheel axe flying!

Woo!

……

Henna crouched boredly by the chimney of a wooden house near the villa.

It's nighttime, and the moon is high.

The bright moonlight dutifully wiped away most of the shadows from the streets, leaving only a small amount to hide.

But even so, Henna was able to find her place with ease.

Her current location is on the east side of the villa, separated only by a fence and a meadow, and the courtyard gate of the port authority can be seen in the distance, and the door of the villa can barely be seen.

These visions were enough for her to see Lorraine enter from the courtyard, into the villa, into the study, and then ......

Someone launched a raid on the villa!

Henna saw a figure easily leap over the high wall, stabbing the guard to death, and then opened the gate to welcome in a dozen fierce and unscrupulous thugs.

The mob attacked the guards, who were unable to fight back, leaving corpses all over the ground and retreating towards the villa.

The study didn't seem to react at all.

Soundproofing structure?

Henna wasn't so sure.

But whether it's soundproofing or trapping, Henna knows that her first task now is to tell Lorraine the news of the invasion as quickly as possible.

She stood up, and the moment she stood up, a gunshot rang out from the back of her head.

Boom!

The sudden gunshots, the location, was about three hundred meters away from the church.

The window of the study was shot through, but the gunfire did not stop there.

In the second shot, a clumsy figure fell, and in another shot, a second clumsy figure fell.

Henna frowned and looked into the study, and soon saw the window firing back.

Steady and slow return fire, about two shots a minute, firm and steady, while it was accompanied by two other chaotic and disorganized gun flames.

Henna's heart was relieved.

The lead gunfire is the rhythm of an A-class shooter, and if there are no particularly good Spaniards in that study, then the shooter is either Lorraine or Bartow.

Considering Marat's virtues, Henna is almost certainly Bato.

In this way, Lorraine is fine, and since the window is broken, even if she doesn't inform her, Lorraine must have known the news of the invasion.

"So what's next......"

Henna gently hung up her veil and jumped downstairs, looking up in the direction of the bell tower.

"The hunters need to be eliminated as soon as possible."

……

The corridor overlaps hell.

Carpets and wallpaper were splattered with blood, and paintings and ornaments were a mess.

Servants, guards, maidens, thugs, alive, dead, dead, dead...... People come and go, and there are plenty of shadows.

Lorraine pulled her thin sword out of the chest of one of the thugs, letting the warm blood spill over her body and stain her shoes.

The thug stared at Lorraine with his eyes spurted and his mouth open, his eyes pleading, and his throat gurgled and muffled for mercy.

But that didn't stop Lorraine, and neither did the hands that were trying so hard to grip Lorraine's cuffs.

Lorraine drew his sword intact and pushed the thug away with a gentle push. The thug fell to the soft carpet, convulsed, rolled over, and trembled as he crawled down the staircase, marking a blinding trail with thick blood marks.

Lorraine didn't chase after him, he stood still, looking at the stained dress in disgust.

"That's why I don't like to fight in a dress......"

He muttered frustratedly, took off his hopeless tuxedo, wiped the blood from his sword with a priceless tweed, and hung it on the knight's armor that was used as a decoration by the aisle.

The crawling thug is dead, maintaining the classic posture of "don't stop", with an outstretched hand less than two meters away from the stairs.

Lorraine looked at the long, twisted streak of blood, and her brow tightened little by little.

These people...... Who exactly?

Lorraine couldn't guess where these people came from, and he didn't know anything about their background, identity, background, or purpose.

He did insinuate in front of Marat that he was behind the fortress commander Antonio. Morality. Torresias, but that was to help Marat better resolve to blow up the arsenal.

After all, a foolish man is best at treating others with himself, and as long as he doesn't care about Torresias' life, he can understand plainly and confidently that Torrecia wants his life.

In reality, however, this is almost non-existent.

The military status quo of San Carlos' triumph is stable and has stood the test of history, with the Doge's Palace and the Admiral of the Fleet behind it.

Killing Marat would do Torresias no good, but would cause hysteria in the garrison fleet and lower his evaluation during his tenure as commander, which would be detrimental to his re-election.

Mara has said that Torrecia is close to re-election. He was probably the one in the city with the most hunger for stability right now, and Marat and the grenadier major stationed at the water gate were the source of the turmoil.

So...... The man behind this is the grenadier major Gonzalo. Morality. Oviedo?

From his point of view, killing Marat would indeed kill two birds with one stone, reducing competitors and exposing Torresias' incompetence.

With Marat dead, Torresias will surely be offended, and the next commander will be vacant, leaving Oviedo the only old man suitable for his successor.

Is it just that the old man will definitely be a candidate?

The Admiral lost his nephew in this year's power struggle. In order to appease him, it is likely that the governor voluntarily gave up the position of commander for the next year and the profits of the whole year.

It can be seen that this kind of risk, this kind of huge adventure that would ruin one's reputation if it fails, is an extremely insecure and cost-effective chess for Oviedo.

Oviedo probably didn't bother to try it at all.

But apart from these two, is there a third force in this fortress that can carry out this scale and has a reasonable motive?

Lorraine thought silently as she saw the bloodied beard step up the stairs.

An incredible thought crossed Lorraine's mind in the blink of an eye.

They are pirates who aim to snatch the token of Thomas the Fly in this fortress.

In other words, they had no idea that the token of Thomas the Fly was in Torresias' hands.

Lorraine couldn't help but curl the corners of her mouth.

The beard looked at Lorraine with red eyes: "Boy, I seem to have seen you." ”

"New Cádiz, Mr. Pirate. Will I be lucky enough to know your name? ”

"Wilvert the Arsonist." Bearded smiled and reported to himself, "I have another interesting name in the Caribbean, Edward Blackbeard, boring people like to call me...... His Royal Highness the Pirate King. ”