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Chapter 74: Ch.73 Provocation

She glared at these airborne enemies with disdain. Summoning her power to control water, she shaped the seawater into dense arrows and shot them into the sky. The seagulls, which had been chirping gleefully—those \'fish killers\'—fell one by one into the water, where countless fish immediately began tearing them apart, turning them into a cloud of blood.

Though seagulls were annoying, they were clearly not capable of harming sharks. The true culprits must be humans.

Suppressing her disgust, she carefully examined the beach and, sure enough, saw two distinct fresh trails of blood on the rocky shore.

The blood trails twisted and turned, leading up the mountain. The direction in which the rocks had been disturbed also pointed to the summit, indicating that someone had dragged bleeding prey uphill—likely her deceased shark friends based on their size.

At that moment, she caught a whiff of smoke, mixed with a strange aroma of grilled meat.

This scent, mingled with the salty tang of the sea, reminded her of a time when she didn\'t yet know she was a half-blood and had tasted such food.

Grilled seafood.

Cheverie Port was a fishing port, and when she was young, fish naturally made up a significant part of the diet.

But after learning her true heritage, she came to despise all surface dwellers who consumed fish. To her, the inhabitants of her hometown should be exemplary, refraining from any fishing activities.

She had driven the fishermen away through various means, leaving only the elderly and those unable to fish still living in town.

The former fishermen? Some were dead, while others had been forced inland by harsh sea conditions to eke out a living. In any case, Cheverie Port was no place for anyone to harm fish; otherwise, they would face the "Wrath of the Sea God."

If not for the childhood memories she wanted to keep hidden, she would have long since drowned this small town under a tsunami.

But now, someone had brazenly killed two sharks and was openly barbecuing them not far from the coast. The smoke was rising near her old home, by the lighthouse at the foot of which her father was buried.

In North America, people generally don\'t eat sharks. Hunting sharks is either for sport or to show off one\'s bravery. The sudden smoke in the air could only mean one thing—provocation.

As the daughter of the lighthouse keeper, she had spent her childhood climbing up and down the lighthouse with her father. Their lives revolved around it.

Back then, she would gaze out at the endless ocean, wondering what lay beyond, while listening to her father\'s stories of sailors.

But later, after learning of her lineage, she clashed with her father over the human practice of fishing. She felt a closer bond with her mother, who lived in the ocean. Her human father suddenly seemed as foreign as another species.

Her mother died in a rebellion. She ascended to the throne and eliminated all opposition, but shortly after, her father was assassinated by Black Manta. She buried him beneath the lighthouse.

Her last shred of humanity was buried along with him. Since then, she had no connection to humanity; she was Atlantean.

Yet now, someone had ripped off the mask of the queen, reminding her that she was once the daughter of a lighthouse keeper. They had killed her friends and burned their bodies.

This was courting death!

She tightened her grip on the trident, seawater streaming from it, reflecting brilliant light in the rising sun.

The sea was behind her, her unwavering support.

Gazing at the fresh blood on the ground, she began the familiar trek from the pier to the lighthouse, once her home, now the place where her enemy awaited.

Eliminate the enemy, roast him over the bonfire with her trident, and then let her sea-dwelling friends taste human flesh. Afterward, she would destroy this town and sever all ties with the past!

As the stone path beneath her feet grew shorter, she finally saw it.

A person, wearing a strange hood, stood before her father\'s grave, tending to a large bonfire. Two sharks were skewered beside it, like corn roasting over the fire.

It was hard to tell if this person was male or female, but they were quickly rotating the small trees serving as spits, while using an odd hand motion to sprinkle salt over the fish.

Salt poured out of the bottle, running down their forearm and elbow, falling evenly over the grilling fish.

"Hmm, infusing it with soul."

The figure seemed to be talking to themselves, but the voice was deliberately loud, as if speaking to her.

Of course, it was Su Ming, Deathstroke. His equipment was comprehensive, as any good mercenary\'s would be. Since missions could take him to desolate places for extended periods, he always carried a small bottle of salt.

Even though Deathstroke was a super-soldier, he still needed salt. Without it, his stamina would drop.

Salt wasn\'t just for seasoning food. In the wilderness, saltwater could replenish electrolytes, alleviate blood loss symptoms, or disinfect wounds.

In some underdeveloped areas, salt could even be used as currency to barter for aid.

Seeing the Sea Queen arrive, he deliberately took out the salt and, acting leisurely, sprinkled it over the fish. If this was truly about eating, how could such a small amount of salt be enough for two sharks?

He was simply trying to provoke the Sea Queen.

In the main universe, Aquaman Arthur wasn\'t known for his cunning, not unlike Thor. Once provoked, he became a berserker.

To be fair, he had the strength to back it up, with power a thousand times that of a normal person and divine strength making him nearly invulnerable to conventional weapons.

Aquaman\'s role in the Justice League was often that of the primary tank. Usually, it was Batman who devised the plans, and when it came to fighting the boss, he wouldn\'t assign Aquaman any complicated tactics. Just charge in and keep the boss occupied.

Get knocked down, get back up, charge again, get knocked down again, and repeat until he couldn\'t move anymore.

His large frame, loud voice, and resilience made him perfect for drawing the enemy\'s attention, giving Superman, Diana, and Green Lantern room to attack. Meanwhile, Batman and Barry handled the minions on the outskirts, one unwilling to kill, the other afraid to kill.

The Justice League wasn\'t just about defending against alien threats; Batman\'s reason for assembling them was also to keep a close eye on the others.

If there was ever a villain leader who was defeated by Aquaman alone, there wasn\'t one. When things got serious, it was always Diana who got the job done.

A trained warrior and a dock boy with superpowers are worlds apart; even killing requires following some basic rules.

Now, if he could just make her lose her temper and forget to summon the terrifying power of the ocean, Su Ming would have a chance.

"You killed my friends! Blood for blood!"

As expected, seeing this person casually cooking and making that showy gesture of sprinkling salt made the Sea Queen\'s eyes blaze red. How dare a human eat the noble and gentle creatures of the ocean?

Without hesitation, she hurled her trident like a javelin. There was no way Su Ming could catch this thing; she was too strong for him right now.

He could catch it, but it would certainly throw him off balance.

He ducked and rolled to the side, dodging the lightning-fast attack.

The trident smashed into the chair where Su Ming had been sitting, sending shards of stone and wood flying through the morning air.

The Sea Queen followed up with a leap, forcing Su Ming back with a punch before pulling out the trident and thrusting it at his chest.

She was powerful but not particularly fast. Even the heaviest blow was useless if it missed.

Deathstroke\'s physical prowess and combat skills made his reflexes incredibly quick. As a master of all weapons, he was more proficient with the trident than the Sea Queen herself, thanks to his regained memories.

The trident wasn\'t originally a weapon; it originated from medieval peasant revolts when they had no proper arms and had to use farm tools and fishing gear.

Pitchforks, hoes, rakes, fishing spears, sickles—all are relics of that era.

While ancient Chinese history had a similar weapon, the steel fork, which had established combat techniques, the trident in Aquaman\'s hands was simply brute force. Thrust, sweep, smash—no creativity at all.

Su Ming easily dodged. A person relying solely on brute strength posed little threat to a top-level martial artist. As long as he was cautious, she wouldn\'t be able to land a hit.

He had orchestrated this carefully, bringing the Sea Queen onto land. Here, he had the advantage of terrain, and he had his trump card prepared. What could the Sea Queen possibly do against him?

Dodging another thrust aimed at his head, he slipped nimbly past the Sea Queen.

"Barry? Are you planning to eat this fish or not? If you don\'t hurry, it\'ll be burnt!"