They all call me Great Master-Chapter 697 - 694: Chaotic Night IV

When Gleisa Hamlet anticipated that Port Doldot would fall into chaos due to the "Inland Church" and the "Pain Church," he had the idea of raiding Port Doldot.

The Marquess of West Berlin was indeed fearsome.

But, he had Delpock!

And the 'Rapids Squad' created by Delpock himself!

He could even completely sacrifice the "Inland Church"!

With such a foundation, it was enough to resist the Marquess of West Berlin!

And...

There was a chance to injure the adversary!

For this opportunity, he was willing to sacrifice the entire 'Inland Church.'

Why did he establish the 'Inland Church'?

Wasn't it for Port Doldot?

As long as the Marquess of West Berlin was injured, Port Doldot would belong to the Golden Lion Family!

His father would certainly be very pleased to see such a situation!

Then, as his father intervened...

Not only Port Doldot, but the entire West Berlin would be divided by their family!

And him?

By virtue of this meritorious service, he would naturally become the sole heir of the Golden Lion Family!

Thinking of the joy of that moment, the corner of this eldest son of the old lion's mouth curved upwards.

"Pour me a glass of wine,"

Gleisa Hamlet instructed his personal guard.

The eldest son of the old lion, facing everything about to fall into his hands, believed it was time for a celebration.

However, Gleisa did not like champagne.

He preferred red wine.

The acidity and the rich aroma enchanted him immensely.

Especially when the crimson liquid swirled in the glass, Gleisa always felt as if he were tasting the fruit of victory firsthand.

The unique feeling of satisfaction immersed the eldest son of the old lion.

Silence departed.

Silence returned.

The personal guard, engulfed in a black robe, returned to the captain's cabin with the decanted wine and, with practiced motion, poured the wine into the glass.

The unique fragrance quickly filled the captain's cabin.

Gleisa raised his hand to pick up the glass and swirled it to fully display the wine's beauty.

Then, he even lifted the glass up to the light above his head.

Immediately, the color grew more magnificent.

"To celebrate the victory that is about to come, I prepared a victory wine in advance.

Unfortunately...

The fruit of victory always comes through twists and turns,"

Gleisa said this as he threw the wine directly at the personal guard standing before him.

Whoosh! Whoosh whoosh!

The wine cut through the air like arrows shot from a strong crossbow.

The personal guard cloaked in the black robe immediately twisted his figure, popping like a soap bubble, disappearing on the spot.

When he reappeared, it was two meters away.

But, as soon as he reappeared, the personal guard had to dodge again.

Because the wine glass was on its way.

If the wine was like arrows, then the wine glass was more like a cannonball.

Boom!

In the deafening roar, the personal guard had to pull off the black robe and shake it vigorously; it spread out, forming a black wall.

This wall waited for the wine glass.

However, the wine glass once again returned to Gleisa's hand, along with the wine that had just been in it.

Even, not a drop of the crimson liquid was spilled.

Sweat, disguised as the other's personal guard, had a serious expression.

He had not seen any trace of the wine or the wine glass's return.

Simply put, the wine and wine glass had vanished into thin air, then reappeared in Gleisa's hand.

"Talent? Bloodline?"

Sweat asked solemnly.

As the Swordsmanship Chief of the Marquess of West Berlin, Sweat was not an ignorant man.

On the contrary, with the help of the West Berlin Family, Sweat had read and encountered too many secret techniques.

In his knowledge, there was no such secret technique.

Thus, only Talent and Bloodline remained!

But shouldn't the talent of the Golden Lion Family be 'Lion Group'?

Why would he possess abilities similar to spatial shuttle?

And that kind of attacking method?

A Talent mutation?

A Bloodline mutation?

The Chief of Swordsmanship of the Marquess of West Berlin pondered deeply.

Gleisa Hamlet, however, burst into laughter.

The eldest son of the Old Lion, with his square face, thick eyebrows, big eyes, prominent nose bridge, and a dignified appearance dressed in a golden uniform, first cracked a smile, then laughed heartily.

Toward the end, he laughed so hard he doubled over.

But in the next moment, the laughter disappeared.

The smile also completely vanished from the face of the Old Lion's eldest son.

What remained was a trace of coldness.

It was anger.

It was also a murderous intent.

The eldest son of the Old Lion knew very well that since the fellow before him appeared, there was only one possibility: his plan had failed.

He didn't understand why his perfect plan had failed.

But he knew he was very angry now.

He needed to vent his anger.

And the person before him just happened to be perfect for that.

The identity of the Chief of Swordsmanship of the Marquess of West Berlin was sufficient.

Just right to compensate for his losses.

After all, the Doyegge Chamber of Commerce, Rota Chamber of Commerce, and Fissel Chamber of Commerce were not easy to foster.

They hadn't even served their real purpose before being nearly wiped out...

Damn it!

The anger in his heart grew fiercer, as did his murderous intent.

His voice naturally sounded icy cold—

"Oh, retainer of the West Berlin Family who can guess my actions, why not guess my abilities as well?"

Gleisa said, and then vanished from the spot.

The next moment, Sweat felt a strong wind from behind his head.

The Chief of Swordsmanship of the Marquess of West Berlin immediately swung his robe toward the back of his head, but unsurprisingly, he missed, and the sound moved from behind his head to in front of it.

It was a fist.

Instinctively, Sweat raised his hand to block.

But in the moment the Chief of Swordsmanship of the Marquess of West Berlin raised his arm, his "Spirituality" frantically alarmed him.

Without any hesitation, the Chief of Swordsmanship of West Berlin immediately fell backward.

Suddenly, the upper body of the Chief of Swordsmanship of West Berlin was parallel to the deck, while Gleisa's fist disappeared once again.

When it reappeared, it was aiming straight for Sweat's throat.

Sweat maintained the backward-leaning posture, continuously kicking backwards with his legs.

His body began retreating frantically.

But it was still too slow.

The punch still smashed into Sweat's chest.

Then...

Sweat's chest shattered.

Just like a mirror struck by a hammer.

Crrack!

The crisp sound followed, and a network of cracks began to spread.

However, Gleisa Hamlet grew even angrier.

Because he hadn't truly hit Sweat.

"Defensive Props, huh?

I'd like to see how many Defensive Props you still have!"

The eldest son of the Old Lion snorted coldly.

Then he threw another punch.

Just as unpredictable and dangerously terrifying as before.

But Sweat keenly noticed a difference.

The Chief of Swordsmanship of the Marquess of West Berlin could clearly sense that the Old Lion's fist was slower.

However, he wasn't sure if it was a trap.

So, he squinted his eyes, dodging while carefully observing.

After several moments, he saw that Gleisa's breathing was slightly labored and noticed sweat on the tip of Gleisa's nose.

The eldest son of the Old Lion was undoubtedly overexerting himself.

Then, perhaps he could...

Suddenly, a bold idea emerged in the mind of the Chief of Swordsmanship of the Marquess of West Berlin.