「Bahama Archipelago, Black Sails Harbor, Barbary Pirates’ stronghold.」
After a devastating war with the Kingdom of Castile that left both sides severely weakened, their pirate fleet had clearly thinned considerably. So much so that Fat Dragon could walk through the decadent pirate city and distinctly feel other pirate powers treating him, a commander of the Barbary Pirates, with an unprecedented level of equality. This simply would not have happened in the past.
Dignity only exists at the edge of a blade, and truth only within the range of a cannon! When a power’s armants diminish and the range of its cannons shortens, its ’dignity’ and proclaid ’truth’ imdiately shrink and devalue. Although the Barbary Pirates had succeeded in toppling the People of Castilia from their pedestal, they too had suffered heavy losses. It was nothing more than a pyrrhic victory without any aning. Had it not been for the deterrence of the Pirate King known as the Ocean Throne, a Fifth Order power within the southern Celestial Orbital Belt, and the Star Moon Empire to the north on the Old Continent’s west coast as an ally, perhaps soone would have already tried to take a bite out of the Barbary Pirates.
Byron’s will silently descended into Fat Dragon’s body once more as he again pushed open the doors of the council hall.
Once bustling with over three hundred pirate captains, the hall now appeared half-empty and particularly desolate. More than a third of the original dozen or so Third Order Great Pirates had also disappeared. The pirate profession is truly a case of ’survival of the fittest.’ Even Third Order Great Pirates could not ensure they would not be eliminated.
As a result, Fat Dragon’s seat had suddenly advanced many places, quietly moving into the top ten. No matter how you looked at it, he was now a person of considerable importance among the Barbary Pirates.
Before Byron could take his seat, he suddenly saw a Third Order Great Pirate in front of him stop, survey the room, and snort coldly:
"Humph, establishing a kingdom, establishing a kingdom. The Pirate Kingdom has yet to materialize, yet our own brothers’ blood is about to be drained completely. By the Highest Holy Spirit, the souls of our Barbary ancestors are weeping in Heaven!"
A single sentence, tinged with sarcasm, resonated with many pirates.
HUMMM.
Just recently, far too many of their friends, brothers, fathers, sons, and subordinates had perished in the war to establish their nation. If the end result had been rewarding, no one would have complained. But after the pyrrhic victory, the devastating news that the natives had not been wiped out by smallpox ant their plans to establish a nation on Yucatan Island were utterly ruined. Those from the pirate ranks who had perished had died in vain. Now, the other powers in the Bantaan Archipelago, those previously considered second-tier, were all mocking them.
"Why hasn’t the Pirate King returned to take charge? Without him, soone is about to squander all the Barbary Pirates’ resources."
"You’re right! Shouldn’t soone be held accountable for this?"
"Moreover, a mighty Fourth Order, usually so imposing and domineering, not only failed to withstand the enemy’s pressure at the critical mont but also miserably lost an arm. He still hasn’t recovered. How can such a person command respect?"
Clearly, the aningless pyrrhic victory had severely damaged the reputation of Vice-King ’Blue Hair’ Barbarossa Halding. In the Pirate Group’s traditionally ’fair and democratic’ atmosphere, so self-proclaid old-tirs were just short of calling him out by na to demand accountability. If this had happened on an ordinary pirate ship, a crew assembly would have dismissed a captain who had made such a grievous error. Even among the firmly established Barbary Pirates, it led to a collective outcry from the majority.
"Silence!"
However, at this mont, Fat Dragon suddenly stood up and harshly rebuked the most vociferous pirate, completely ignoring the ugly expression on the Third Order Great Pirate’s face.
Fat Dragon’s core mission was to obtain clues about the ’Whale Hunter’ Jack Harold from the Barbary Pirate Group on behalf of Violet. Since he couldn’t currently contact the Pirate King, ’Ocean Throne’ Barbarossa Hailiding, his younger brother, ’Blue Hair’ Barbarossa Halding, was the most likely breakthrough.
Standing firmly by ’Blue Hair’ was the sole guiding principle for Fat Dragon, this "trusted confidant." Even if it cost him his life, his "loyalty" to His Highness the Vice-King would not waver!
Looking at the assembled pirates, Byron declared passionately:
"Hearing your irresponsible remarks makes ’shiver’ with ’rage,’ I’m breaking out in a ’cold’ sweat on this hot day, and my hands and feet are ice cold! Did the Vice-King lose his arm by choice? No! He lost it for the future of all Barbary Pirates! My warship was near the Vice-King’s flagship at the ti; I saw the entire battle clearly. The People of Castilia were despicable and shaless, launching a sneak attack through a shadow portal. His Excellency the Vice-King was caught off guard; he didn’t dodge! The Governor of Havana gathered a mob to gang up on His Excellency the Vice-King—they showed no Martial Virtue, no honor in combat! Anyone in his position would have suffered the sa. If you think you could have done better, then step up!
"Besides, His Excellency the Vice-King only lost an arm, but the People of Castilia lost their position as the overlords of the entire Bantaan Archipelago! And that old bishop from the Havana Cathedral lost his life too! Setting aside the outco, can any of you here claim to be completely blaless?"
The crowd exchanged uneasy glances.
Didn’t dodge? Only lost one arm? If you can do better, step up? Setting aside the outco?
They felt he was clearly wrong, yet they were speechless.
What a sycophant! they cursed inwardly. Who knew this guy was so shaless?
At that mont, with the sound of footsteps, ’Blue Hair’ Barbarossa Halding entered the eting room just as the conference was scheduled to start. The heavy, commanding aura he exuded instantly silenced the crowd. They might grumble, but when it ca to actual rebellion, no one dared to take the lead.
Halding swept his cold gaze across the room, then offered Byron an appreciative smile, clearly having overheard his defense.
Fat Dragon’s technique might be a bit clumsy, and his flattery a bit too obvious, but the crucial thing is, he actually sucked up to . He’s a good brother! The Pirate Group is short-handed right now; such loyal talent must be utilized.
As he walked to the front, the empty sleeve of his left arm was particularly conspicuous. This was not rely a taphorical statent but a literal observation. Byron, standing nearby, could clearly see a dense, almost tangible Holy Light clinging to the severed limb. Above his head, a blood-red cross mark pulsed—the Enemy of the Saint’s Cross. It was the handiwork of the Bishop who wielded a fragnt of the True Cross.
During the Order of Knights’ western crusades, whenever they faced an unbeatable enemy, those fanatical clergy would sacrifice their own lives to brand their foe with this difficult-to-remove mark. This would incite other mbers of the Church to relentlessly hunt down the marked individual until they were utterly destroyed. It was said that slaying a marked enemy would grant the killer all the good deeds accumulated by the marked one in their lifeti, significantly increasing their chances of ascending to Heaven after death.
Hearing that a pursuit squad from the Religious Tribunal had arrived in the Bantaan Archipelago, ’Blue Hair’ had been keeping a low profile, afraid of drawing their attention.
Eh? Who are these people...?
Byron noticed that ’Blue Hair’ was not alone. Several unfamiliar individuals, not Barbary Pirates, were following him. Consulting the wanted posters, Byron recognized the leader: Castilia’s Privateering Pirate, ’Flower Sword’ Schneider. Moreover, all these n were expressionless, radiating a chilling, ’stay away’ aura. Behind their cold expressions lay a deeply hidden despair.
Byron instantly understood.
So, it’s those Unlucky Ghosts.
Anyone who had taken the "money to spare their lives" from him back in the Aztec Royal City now looked like a living corpse. Fine wine could not satisfy their cravings, gourt food turned to dust in their mouths, and the allure of beautiful partners could not stir their desires. They were parched to death, yet no amount of fine wine or spring water could quench their thirst. They were starving, yet no amount of delicacies could sate their hunger. The smooth skin of a beauty felt no different to them than sandpaper. Wine, gourt food, sweet springs, beautiful won, even the fragrance of flowers by the roadside—they could no longer experience any pleasure in the world. Every day was a living hell.
Unknown to Byron, the leader, ’Flower Sword,’ was the very sa Second Order Transcendent who had subdued the beast-eared Priestess in the temple in Aztec Royal City. He had dropped his trousers only to find himself impotent, crying out in despair, "My life has no aning!" (Chapter 151).
There had been thousands of such "living dead" initially, and with the cursed Gold spreading, their numbers had likely grown.
’Blue Hair’ Halding got straight to the point:
"As you all know, we seized a vast amount of Aztec Gold from adventurers of various nations, but due to the ’curse of the living dead,’ we haven’t been able to spend it. Now, we finally have a solution. ’Flower Sword’ Schneider and his n were my informants planted within the Kingdom of Castile. They’ve brought news. A Castilian Prophet and a Naturalist, working together at great cost, have unraveled the secrets of the cursed Gold.
"There are three ways to lift the curse:
"1. Return the Gold to its origin, the city in the heart of the lake, and personally slay a Thief who stole the Gold, using their blood to cleanse the treasure of its taint.
"2. Obtain a pardon from the heir to the Empire and the original owner of the Gold.
"There is a third option, the most feasible one for us. If we can acquire the 882 cursed Gold Coins hidden on Silvergold Island, we can not only keep the Gold we plundered but also potentially break the curse. We might even be able to use that powerful curse to counteract the ’Enemy of the Saint’s Cross’ afflicting . Of course, Silvergold Island itself is an imnse treasure trove. I will lead you to plunder it and wash away our disgrace!"
WHOOSH!
The atmosphere in the hall instantly ignited.
What is the cure for sorrow? Only silver and gold!
Lifting the curse of the living dead, removing the Enemy of the Saint’s Cross, and bringing mountains of wealth to ordinary pirates... For any of them, the treasure of the great pirate Flint was an unmissable opportunity.
Seeing that morale was high, ’Blue Hair’ nodded slightly:
"We still need a treasure map. ’Flower Sword’ has provided with a target. Tonight, I will activate the Deep Sea Leap again and personally lead a raid on... the International Port!"
Byron, who had been enjoying the show, was instantly petrified...
His mind roared: Is there no end to this? You bastards, always picking on us honest n! Why don’t you go to Havana? Fortunately, I, this joint confidant of Hightins, Castilia, The Skinners’ Church, the Bloodthirsty Cult, and the Barbary Pirates... ca prepared!
Thus, to everyone’s astonishnt, Fat Dragon abruptly stood up and held a piece of parchnt high.
"There’s no need for further trouble! Your Excellency the Vice-King, I happen to have a treasure to present to you. I hope it pleases you."
A joke? Am I afraid too few will be sent to their deaths? The entry tickets have been ready for a long ti. Everyone, get on board!
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