A strange, jet black sailboat appeared on the shores of Edloss, Hesmir Bay, the pirate flag bearing the skull of a parrot fluttering in the wind. It drifted upon the sea as lightly as a breath of air, hazy and mysterious. The vessel was tattered and damp, covered in seaweed, barnacles, and parasitic sea creatures. There were no sails billowing with wind, yet it still surged across the water at high speed like a living creature.

  On the deck, Mulock gazed upon the idyllic Hesmir Bay, and the villagers toiling at their fishing on small boats through an old spyglass. He drew in a deep breath, savoring what he called the scent of peace. The simple folk went about their work with cheerful hearts, unaware that death was drawing near.

  "This place is so peaceful, these diligent people with smiles upon their faces. It reminds me of the bright past I once had. I do not care much for this feeling. Perhaps we should do something to make everything more realistic, the way the world truly works. Do you not agree, my brothers?"

  Mulock burst into raucous laughter, his face twisted with madness. His state of mind was clearly not stable. He ran his tongue along the rusted blade in his hand, the edge slicing his tongue until blood spilled forth, making his grin all the more savage.

  Around him rose the feral laughter of the cruel pirates. It was a rare occasion for their captain to be so generous. He must be having one of his fits again. The pirates had long awaited this moment, they could no longer restrain themselves. Like starving wolves craving flesh and blood, their eyes fixed upon the fishing boats with naked hunger.

  The pirate flag was hoisted high.

  A bloodbath was about to begin.

  

  ...

  Velen stared at the intelligence report in her hand with fury. The entire fishing village of Hesmir Bay had been slaughtered in a single night. Not a single soul had survived, neither the elderly nor the children. The ground bore marks of having been dug up, and beneath it lay countless corpses of those who had been buried alive. Terror and fear still lingered on the faces of the dead.

  The news arrived one day after the massacre, when the townsfolk who sold their goods in the nearby town returned. They should consider themselves fortunate, for had they come back any earlier, their fate would not have been much better. The whereabouts of the perpetrators were now unknown, but judging by the familiar method of killing, it was not hard to guess who was responsible.

  “Terrible! This atrocity could only be the Break Island savages. They dared violate the Alliance treaty?”

  “If I’m not mistaken, Mira’s family lives in that area,” Xevia frowned, picturing a grim outcome.

  “Do not tell Mira for now. Also, trust Mel; that woman is not ordinary.” Velen sighed.

  “Villagers reported seeing a hazy black ship far out at sea, appearing and disappearing like a spirit. It was Mulock’s dogs,” Renes ground his teeth; hatred burned in his eyes.

  “If it’s Mulock, it’s troublesome! He’s clever and wouldn’t blatantly break the treaty. At such a sensitive time, only Aster would hire him. No doubt! They’re certainly heading for the Lumina palace; they want to kill Rumi.” Velen sprang up in alarm.

  Renes rose in silence and walked away with calm resolve. Xevia and Velen both knew what he intended; they fell silent, neither daring to stop him, though they knew Renes would expose them. Watching Renes’s fading silhouette, Xevia sighed. Some memories are a kind of poison, losses that can never be erased.

  Renes donned his combat clothes, a tight assassin-like outfit: a black suit with small arm plates and a belt packed with concealed weapons. He picked up a bottle of liquor and flung it aside. Now more than ever he needed clarity, the cold lucidity required for vengeance. Elisa’s image flashed in his mind, innocent and beautiful, her charming smile and braided hair. In the next heartbeat that brightness twisted into another vision, her corpse stripped and lying in a pool of blood. Renes knelt down, his eyes growing calm as he forced the madness back. He was unnervingly composed, the last peace before a storm.

  “I swear by the name of Enesur, I will avenge for you…and for our child.”

  Renes stepped out the door and froze when he saw Exitus, the boy standing there smiling at him.

  “No battle of the master could be complete without me. We are teacher and pupil.”

  “Teacher and pupil? What I’ve taught you are merely the basics nowhere near enough for you to risk your life. Our enemies this time are powerful Battle Kings, and you are not yet ready to face them.” Renes seemed moved for a brief moment, yet his tone remained cold and unyielding.

  Exitus cared little for sentiment. In truth he was an odd child, ruled entirely by reason, detached and emotionless. Even the death of his village, of his family, was to him nothing more than a familiar occurrence. He faced everything in life through his own logic, fair but only by his own measure.

  Following Renes was not just a way to test his limits. It was also a way to collect more souls for Vorshade. He had no interest in Renes’s vengeance, what he wanted was to witness a true battle at the highest level.

  “I believe I can be of help to you, Renes. Besides… I’m not as weak as you think.”

  Exitus spoke with unwavering certainty, the kind born from true power. During his journeys into the Abyss, he had gathered every page of the Elite Beasts’ grimoires. Now, with countless overlapping abilities, Exitus had become terrifyingly strong. All he needed before challenging a Guardian was battle experience and a few final upgrades for Vorshade.

  Renes stared straight into the boy’s eyes. From the day they met, Exitus had never spoken without acting. There was always something immovable in him, a strange and unshakable confidence.

  “Very well. You may come and assist me. You’re free to slay anyone among those damned pirates, but Mulock is mine,” Renes growled.

  Exitus nodded in quiet agreement. War was inevitable, and he was never short of souls. The two of them walked off together in silence as dusk slowly cloaked Seabloom.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  In a hidden corner nearby, two women are covered by a magical protective circle that not only muffles sound but also conceals their presence.

  “You’re really letting that boy go? That place is dangerous! Mulock’s crew has no weaklings. They’re the kind who lick blood off their blades. A kid like him won’t survive.” Velen’s voice trembled with worry as she watched the two disappear into the sunset.

  “There’s no need to worry,” Xevia replied calmly. “That boy… he’s terrifying. Aside from the fact that his body hasn’t yet awakened a true ability,, every other aspect of him surpasses an ordinary Battle King. Besides, a few days ago, he carved his second magic core.”

  “What!? He’s a Champion ? A second core? You mean he’s reached Archmage level? How long has it even been!?” Velen’s shock was palpable. Not even the prodigies of the Sky Tower could cultivate that fast.

  “Not quite an Archmage,” Xevia said softly. “Though it’s called a ‘second core’, it’s oddly weak, only as strong as his first, and capable of inscribing just a single basic spell. His Will hasn’t reached Archmage level either. Perhaps, from the very beginning, his body formed a extra core by some strange twist of fate.”

  “That boy… carries far too many secrets,” Velen murmured after a long silence, nodding slightly as if to herself.

  “Everyone has their secrets, Velen.” Xevia smiled faintly.

  ...

  The ancient Lumina Palace welcomed seven strange visitors today. They wrapped themselves from head to toe in pitch black cloth. The fabric could conceal their appearances, but it could not hide the pungent, putrid stench that wafted from their bodies. They observed the palace from afar, discussing plans for an assault.

  The palace was surrounded by magical barriers and countless fully equipped guards. Do not mistake them for the ragtag soldiers of Aster. These were elite royal troops, rigorously trained and capable of extremely effective coordinated combat. More than two thousand guards were stationed throughout the palace, with nearly one hundred Warlords and three Battle Kings, not counting Rumi himself.

  There are three entrances guarded by three Battle Kings. We must strike at the same time so they cannot close the protective formation. Split into three squads, two men per squad. I will infiltrate the palace and capture Rumi alive. Mulock explained the plan. Or rather, the parrot on his head was the one truly speaking.

  Mulock’s team consisted of six warriors and only a single mage.

  A massive, powerfully built brute with enormous arms named Kong, the very image of brawn over brains.

  A man with a face warped as if burned, wearing a white chef’s uniform named Chef, the cook of the pirate crew.

  A hunched old woman with grotesque, scab covered hands named Mep, the navigator of the crew. Her body crawled with maggots and insects, writhing in and out of the festering wounds on her flesh.

  A gaunt, peculiar man with bulging eyes named Gun, a master marksman. He had once been a mercenary on Three Island, one of those who sold their lives wandering for gold coins.

  A man wearing scholarly glasses, seemingly the only normal one in the entire gang, named Doc, the pirate crew’s doctor. He did not seem to get along with the others and always stood alone in a shadowed corner, far from the rest.

  Finally, the only mage in the crew, shrouded in a mysterious black cloak, Bone. A newly recruited member bought at a ridiculously low price. Mulock was not particularly picky. His crew was constantly replaced due to the extremely high mortality rate.

  Squad One was led by Kong and Chef. Kong stomped the ground, tore up a massive slab of rock, and hurled it at the guarded gate. With a thunderous crash, the boulder crushed one unlucky guard into a mound of mangled flesh and shattered the metal clad wooden gate into fragments. In the choking dust, Chef flickered like a specter, appearing behind unsuspecting guards. His blades flashed across their throats, blood gushing like springs as one after another fell in despair.

  Squad Two was formed by Mep and Gun. Gun lit a cigarette and drew two pitch black pistols from within his own body. Like a pervert, he gently kissed the muzzles before unleashing a relentless barrage at the guarded gate. Bang Bang Bang. The bullets tore through the bodies of the front line guards and quickly lodged themselves into those behind. Dozens of unprepared soldiers were stripped of their lives in an instant. The remaining guards reacted quickly, raising magically reinforced steel shields. But it was not enough. Old Mep’s eyes gleamed with a faint, sickly light. The bullets at the soldiers’ feet began to twitch, revealing their true forms as tiny beetles with razor sharp iron mandibles. They crawled toward the guards who were too focused on the rain of gunfire, gnawing into the flesh of their legs and burrowing inside.

  "Aaaaaaaaa"

  The soldiers suddenly screamed in agony. The insects writhed beneath their skin, destroying them from within, blood pouring from their seven orifices. The guards tore at their own flesh in a desperate attempt to dig out the horrific creatures, but the creatures’ mandibles clamped in tightly. In the end, one by one they collapsed, their corpses piling atop each other, the scene resembling hell itself.

  Squad Three was led by Bone and Doc. Doc was clever. His choice of this position was deliberate. He drew from his body a strange, murky green liquid and ignited it, producing a pale green smoke. The smoke spread through the air and drifted with the wind into the guarded gate, where the guards unknowingly inhaled it. Their bodies suddenly burned with heat as a monstrous hunger overwhelmed their minds. Their flesh began to melt and rot. They lunged at their fellow soldiers, biting and tearing like rabid beasts, frenzied and enraged. But it did not stop there. The fallen corpses rose one after another, staggering forward with ruined bodies, searching for their next prey.

  …

  Inside the palace, Rumi sat in silence. The old king gazed sorrowfully at a photograph of himself and his brother in their youth. The two brothers stood side by side. Astor was slightly taller, his arm draped over Rumi’s shoulder in a friendly manner, his smile innocent and carefree. Rumi was smaller, his face puffed in irritation as if sulking over something. Behind them stood Horta, their venerable teacher, his kind face gently smiling as he patted their heads.

  "How nostalgic, King Rumi. It seems I have inadvertently disturbed your moment of quiet. Mulock’s voice echoed through the vast chamber."

  "What. Who are you? Guards."

  "They are rather busy at the moment, Your Majesty. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Mulock. I do not enjoy long conversations. Someone has offered one thousand gold coins for your head. But if you surrender peacefully, I will not touch a single hair on your body."

  "Surrender peacefully ?" King Rumi laughed arrogantly, as if he had just heard a joke. Then his face hardened. He removed and cast aside his royal robe, rolled his neck, and loosened his limbs.

  "Do you truly think I am that weak. I am Hesmor Rumi, True King of Hesmor. I have never known the meaning of the words surrender."

  An oppressive aura burst forth from the old king. His body was instantly enveloped in a gleaming suit of silver armor. The armor spread and gradually completed itself. The golden lion sigil became clear upon the breastplate, patterns and engravings emerging one by one, exuding nobility and overwhelming might. The armor crept up his neck and finally sealed over his face with a closed helmet, leaving only his eyes exposed. Rumi raised the silver sword that came with the armor and pointed its sharp tip at Mulock with lofty disdain.

  At this moment, Rumi was no longer a sorrowful old man dwelling on the past, but a proud warrior, one who would fight until his final breath.

  Mulock’s grin faded. The parrot on his head soared high, its shrill, death laden cry echoing through the space.

  "Then die, old man."

  Lumina Palace fell into a brutal battle. The royal Battle Kings led the army into formation, struggling to withstand the ferocious onslaught of the pirates. However, the disparity in strength between the two sides was too great. One soldier after another fell. The situation was utterly dire for Rumi’s side.

  From afar, Renes and Exitus arrived. They observed the battle from a high hill. Renes frowned, unable to spot Mulock anywhere.

  "He has likely already gone inside. Master, you should go. I will support the others". Exitus said calmly in a low voice.

  "Will you be all right." Renes asked with concern.

  Exitus assessed the strength of the crew. All of them stood at the threshold of the Battle King level. Only Bone had yet to reveal his power. His abilities remained a mystery. After a long moment of thought, Exitus broke into a confident smile.

  "I will be."