Captivated by the Ruler of the Underworld
Chapter107 Forest Memories (Part 2)

By the sea, fishermen from the tribe caught fish and harvested pearls, reaping bountiful rewards.

When they saw the leader's beautiful daughter, protected by the highest deity and their princess, they eagerly presented her with pearls they'd retrieved from the depths. "Dear Princess," they offered reverently. "Please accept this gift from us."

The little girl's chubby hands carefully took a pearl, her sparkling eyes inspecting it before she handed it back. "This pearl was dived for by Sister Sunky. I did no work for it; I cannot take it." "But Princess Cicery," they insisted. "It's a token of Sunky's regard. Accept it, and the gods will bless her too."

Little Cicery blinked her beautiful eyes, her chubby hand caressing the smooth pearl she held. With a sweet, tender voice, she hugged Sunky's leg and said, "Thank you, Sunky. May the angels watch over you." Around them, the tribe gathered, singing joyful songs, hoping to bask in the divine blessing bestowed upon Cicery and Sunky.

Suddenly, the distant horizon was broken by a fleet of large ships slowly making their way toward the forest's edge.

The orange-hued steamships roared with hoarse engines, like that of wild beasts, the booming of their motors thunderous to the ear.

A formidable number of vessels cut through the waves, their propellers churning up the sea into frothing whitecaps, trailing long ripples across the water.

The singing stopped as everyone turned to stare at the approaching ships, their eyes filled with astonishment.

"What in the world is that? Are those monsters?"

"Sea monsters are coming! Everyone, run to the deep woods, grab your axes, get ready to fight!"

Below, a White Lion stood guard, its pure white fur standing on end, its deep blue eyes cautiously watching the approaching behemoths.

Before the tribe had the chance to scatter, the ships docked swiftly at the shore, and men dressed in camouflage, donned with helmets, and wielding rifles, disembarked.

Atop the deck of the largest ship stood a man in his thirties, his posture tall and commanding. The sea breeze played with his white coat, making him appear godlike under the sunlight. A mask obscured his face, but his eyes, sharp like a hawk's, hinted at a striking visage.

"Leave none behind, take them all," he commanded.

At his order, armed men rushed toward the tribespeople, crippling anyone caught with brutal precision, rendering escape impossible.

Gunfire and screams filled the air as the tribe, lacking modern arms, fell before the savagery of the gunmen.

Cries went up from the tribe, "Princess Cicery, run! Find the chief and hide in the forest!"

Shocked and confused by the chaos, Cicery's wide eyes filled with fear and disbelief. She could not understand what was happening.

Then, she locked eyes with the man on the ship. His gaze, deep yet sinister, held a smile as his voice, smooth and resonant as a cello, poured forth, "Be careful with that little girl. I want her brought to me unharmed."