CHAPTER 82: CHAPTER82-NO MORE PRETENSE, LAYING THE CARDS ON THE TABLE

The speaker used the common language, understood by everyone.

Finn and the others’ expressions changed abruptly, and their arcanergy surged, ready to spring into action if things turned south.

Owen, with a calm demeanor, pushed the seahorse race leader aside and unshackled himself, slowly walking towards the tent.

Relieved, the seahorse race leader stumbled forward, falling to his knees: "Lord Godwin, I was coerced, all by these despicable humans."

As Owen entered, he finally saw the imposing figure of Lord Godwin seated at the head of the tent.

Towering at over two meters tall, his presence was like a small mountain.

Godwin’s skin was a unique shade of blue: deep, mysterious, and filled with magical energy.

His skin was covered in wave-like patterns that seemed to pulsate as if mirroring the ever-moving waves of the sea.

Unlike other members of the sea race, Godwin was bare-bodied, his vital parts modestly covered with seaweed.

He always wore a wide, long robe that matched the deep blue of his skin, enhancing his imposing appearance.

The fabric of the robe was unlike anything Owen had seen; it shimmered with a star-like radiance, suggesting it was an arcanergy artifact.

Godwin’s aura was truly breathtaking. Sitting there casually, he seemed to embody the power of the entire ocean.

"Dismissed. You are not to blame for this," Godwin’s voice resonated like waves, reaching deep into their hearts.

The seahorse race leader, as if granted a pardon, bowed repeatedly: "Thank you, Lord Godwin."

Not daring to lift his head, he knelt and backed away until he was out of the tent, then swiftly fled.

After a while, the seahorse leader, panting heavily, lingered outside the neptune race camp.

He glanced back in the direction where Owen was, his eyes filled with disbelief.

He had actually met the neptune race’s belly-general and faced no punishment? Who exactly was Owen?

Questions swirled in his mind, but there was no one to answer them. He never wanted to see Owen again in his life.

...

Godwin extended his hand and announced loudly: "Please, esteemed guests of the dragons, take your seats."

Attendants brought forth chairs made of sea wood, placing them behind Owen and his companions.

Owen’s identity had been exposed, yet he showed no signs of panic. In this world, where gods did not interfere, sages were the pinnacle of power.

A sage, unique and unrivaled, understood the mysteries of the universe, wielding the orders of the world.

Below the sage-tier were the grandmasters.

Though they might not grasp the secrets of the universe, discerning a person’s true nature was simple for them.

No matter how well a person or creature of another race disguised themselves, they stood no chance before a grandmaster.

Owen sat down gracefully: "Lord Godwin, allow me to introduce myself. I am Owen Douglas. This is my maid, Erin, Prince Finn of the Laine Kingdom, Morton from the Deepsea Trade Association, and my attendant, Berkeley."

Right off the bat, Owen revealed the backgrounds of everyone except for his own identity.

Morton’s mouth fell open in shock as he looked at Finn. He had never imagined that the prince of the kingdom was right beside him.

Seeing Morton’s stunned expression, Finn snorted heavily through his nose, giving Morton a provocative look.

"Now you know my esteemed status, don’t you?" His intention was clear.

Morton’s scalp tingled with shock as he pondered his past bickering with Finn, now feeling a tinge of regret.

How could the second prince of the Laine Kingdom be mingling with dragons, and even behaving like a lackey?

His entire worldview seemed to have been turned upside down.

Godwin’s expression remained unchanged, not at all surprised by the identities of the group: "Dragons, emerging after a thousand years... Recently, only the grandmaster Barlo has been roaming the continent, seeking the opportunity to step into the sage-tier. What brings you young ones to Heartstealer Island?"

Owen smiled slightly, maintaining a composed demeanor: "My purpose, I believe Grandmaster Godwin is already aware of."

Godwin’s eyes turned icy cold, and an aura of majesty slowly rose from his body.

Finn and the others felt as if the space around them was being tightly gripped, their breathing becoming hurried.

"Heart of the Ocean?" Godwin’s tone was firm. "If you’ve come for that, I must say you’re in the wrong place."

Godwin’s gaze cut across Owen’s face like a knife.

Owen felt a stinging sensation but did not lower his head: "Grandmaster Godwin, the world’s treasures belong to those destined for them. Claiming them as your own seems rather inappropriate."

"Hmm?" Godwin’s terrifying pressure suddenly intensified.

The chairs beneath Finn and the others splintered apart, and they fell to the ground, struggling to stand up again.

They felt as if a mountain was pressing down on them, aware that Godwin could end their lives at any moment.

Owen’s chair also shattered, but he maintained a sitting posture, even attempting to slowly rise.

"Oh?" A flash of intrigue crossed Godwin’s eyes as he increased the pressure further.

Firstly, the physically weaker Berkeley, with a puff, spat out a mouthful of blood.

The blood, mingling with the seawater, spread out instantly.

His face turned pale as he looked towards Owen for help in a pleading manner.

Owen himself was already immobilized by the intense pressure; he had no strength left to aid Berkeley.

Owen’s legs trembled like butterfly wings, yet his iron will kept him from sitting down in a disheveled state.

Shock flickered in Godwin’s eyes.

He had released only two layers of pressure, which would have overwhelmed any average diamond-tier warrior, causing them to spit blood and become helpless.

Yet, Owen managed to withstand it and even maintained his seated posture. The physical condition of dragons was indeed exceptional.

While Owen could resist, Finn and the others could not.

They lay sprawled on the ground, as if pinned down by an invisible giant hand.

"Grandmaster Godwin, I believed that my status would allow me to venture into Heartstealer Island," Owen spoke with difficulty, the overwhelming pressure causing internal injuries, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"Your status? A dragon? Even Barlo wouldn’t dare to show disrespect in front of my neptune race," Godwin’s face darkened, determined not to let any outsider covet the Heart of the Ocean.

"I am the saint of dragons," Owen declared, laying his cards on the table.

Godwin squinted his eyes, and the oppressive aura around him suddenly dissipated.

Finn and the others, as if granted amnesty, lay gasping for air on the ground.

Finn and Morton exchanged glances, their eyes filled with fear.

Is this the power of a grandmaster-tier?

Merely with their presence, they rendered us completely powerless.

Morton’s gaze shifted to Owen’s profile, his shock not subsiding.

So he is the saint of dragons. No wonder the prince of the kingdom willingly serves him.

A sense of envy arose in Morton’s heart. He, too, wished to serve the saint of dragons.

Didn’t the neptune race’s grandmaster refrain from acting rashly upon learning of Owen’s esteemed status?

Godwin gazed deeply at Owen, a slight pain flickering across his forehead.

"Saint of dragons... Ah, what should be done?" he murmured, his mind awash with uncertainty and conflict.

Resorting to a change in strategy, he said:

"So it is Saint Your Highness. My apologies for the earlier offense. Please, take your seats once more."

Attendants promptly rearranged chairs for Owen and his companions.

A large group of female sea race, clad in sheer garments, entered, carrying various platters.

In an instant, an array of Gosa Waters delicacies and fine wines were laid before Owen and his group.

Godwin’s attitude had shifted drastically from before.

Owen, having revealed his identity, clearly wasn’t there just for a meal.

"Grandmaster Godwin, we can dispense with these formalities. I hope you will allow us to visit the island," Owen said straightforwardly.

Godwin’s hand, holding a wine glass, paused slightly: "Ha ha ha, Saint Your Highness, you are too hasty. Heartstealer Island has not yet been opened. Talking about this now is premature."

"When does Heartstealer Island open?" Owen felt the need to gather more intelligence in the future to avoid being at a disadvantage during such conversations.

Morton, sensing an opportunity to contribute, eagerly spoke up:

"It opens the day after tomorrow. When the first ray of moonlight touches Heartstealer Island, it is considered open."

Godwin glanced at Morton, who immediately sat up straight, meek as a schoolchild, with his legs together, not daring to make eye contact with Godwin.

A smile appeared on Owen’s face: "Since the time is near, Grandmaster Godwin, please grant us the privilege of entering Heartstealer Island."

The sea race comprised many species, if not ten thousand, then at least eight thousand.

But none dared to contest with dragons, even if combined.

Among the twelve dragon elders, four were sages and eight were grandmasters.

There were also grandmaster-tier warriors like

Barlo seeking their fates outside.

This formidable force, once mobilized, could only be matched by established advanced races like the angel race or mind wanderers.

"If Saint Your Highness is so interested in Heartstealer Island, it would be discourteous of me to refuse," Godwin mused, seemingly left with no choice but to grant the request.

Respect begets respect, and Owen, acknowledging the concession, stood up and bowed slightly: "Thank you, Grandmaster Godwin."