"Although I do like some British plays and art, I still hate those damned Brits." Baron Edmond showed a look of disgust on his face. If it weren't for the British, the great Spanish Empire would never have declined, and he himself might have become the governor of some new colony, instead of having to rely on his sister just to get a hard-earned, menial job like now.

"I share your opinion. Although the French are also quite detestable, it's still the Brits who are the most despicable." Lieutenant Colonel Louis wished he could be the commander of the Invincible Armada, using his talent and courage for the glory of Spain, instead of dealing all day with the king's treasures and these ignorant nobles.

"Their warship—my God—it's a miracle it can even stay afloat. What kind of naval battle did they go through?" When the hull scars of that French warship became visible to the naked eye, Baron Edmond couldn't help but raise his hand to cover his face, his bloodshot eyes wide open, rubbing so hard that much of the white powder on his face fell off, just like an old, coquettish prostitute discovering that a beggar actually wanted to sleep with her for free.

"They must be wounded, drifting over with the current. Tell the escort ship to be on alert, turn the rudder, let's get closer and help those poor Frenchmen." Although Louis had been a treasure ship captain for many years, he was, after all, an elite of the Spanish navy, and quickly gave the correct orders. The musketeers on deck also stood up from behind their respective cover, looking at that French warship that looked like nothing but a pile of junk, with some even leisurely pointing and commenting.

"Thank God, it seems our prayers have been answered. You must be angels sent by God... On behalf of our esteemed captain Sir George Comley, I offer you our highest respect." Henry Clark, holding his brass megaphone, continued to flatter these Spaniards without pause.

"Poor Frenchmen, they're usually as proud as a flock of roosters, but now they're like chicks that have fallen into a pond." Hearing the endless flattery echoing in his ears, even Baron Edmond's face couldn't help but fill with a sense of pride, even feeling as if he were a winged angel, while the battered survivors on the opposite ship were crying and kissing his feet.

"Honored sir, can you swear that once this is over, you will let me and my crew go?" Looking at the Spanish galleon that had come alongside, Captain George was still a bit uneasy.

"Of course, I swear in the name of God." Henry Clark solemnly raised his hand and made a vicious oath. For Henry Clark, swearing was like toilet paper—use it and throw it away. If oaths really worked, he would have been deep-fried in oil in his previous life, bones and all.

Finally, as the two ships came alongside, Henry Clark touched the short dagger hidden in his boot, took a deep breath, and thought, the show is finally about to begin. He was the first to step onto the plank laid between the ships and walked across.

...

Henry Clark and Edward Reed supported Captain George, while Scholar Bennett, carrying a musket, and Monk Brooks, with a giant machete on his back, followed behind. They always followed the first mate's guidance, heading toward the towering stern.

"Let's go down and welcome our French friends." Baron Edmond elegantly tapped his hands together. Beside him, his attendant immediately handed over a makeup box. After carefully checking his appearance once more, Baron Edmond was finally satisfied and walked down the stairs to the deck, with Lieutenant Colonel Louis respectfully following half a step behind.

"My dear French compatriots, I never expected to meet you in these waters. Look at your warship—my God—what terrible misfortune have you suffered?" Baron Edmond stopped a few steps away from Henry Clark and the others, pulling out a silk handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth, as the overwhelming stench of blood made it almost impossible to breathe.

"I am Captain George Comley of the Elf, a French warship stationed in Annam. We came to this area while pursuing a group of damned British pirates. Originally, victory was within our grasp, but unexpectedly, they received reinforcements. We fought with all our might, and in the end, both sides suffered heavy losses. Fortunately, we survived. Thank you, my dear Spanish friends." Captain George's Spanish was not fluent, but at least the Spaniards could understand. As Henry Clark and the others supported Captain George and tried to get closer to Louis and the others, they were immediately stopped by Spanish soldiers, and Henry Clark had to stop reluctantly.

"This is the esteemed Baron Edmond, and I am Lieutenant Colonel Louis, captain of this ship, the Montreal. I offer my deepest condolences for your misfortune. Those damned British pirates truly deserve to go to hell." Lieutenant Colonel Louis very much agreed with Captain George's words. "I have a question: why are there so many Chinese among your soldiers?"