The "Fortress Bridgehead" marked on the nautical chart lay at the northernmost point of all the islands affiliated with the Deep Dive Church. It was also typically the first stop within the New Continent for sailboats after crossing the "World Serpent’s Celestial Current Belt."
The island had forests and freshwater sources. Although the soil was sowhat barren and incapable of yielding many crops, the "Fortress Bridgehead" truly lived up to its na.
It made perfect sense for the West Coast Pirate King, [Ocean Throne] Barbarossa Hailidin, to call adventurers to gather here.
Where the sky t the sea, the dying sun bled crimson, casting long, dense shadows of the jungle-like masts in the island’s anchorage upon the ocean.
In just one day, aside from the main fleet of Barbary Pirates, over a hundred adventurer ships had arrived.
Moreover, if one activated their Spirit Vision and looked around, most of the adventurer ships here shimred with radiant Divine Light; they were, in fact, all Wonder Battleships, a rare sight elsewhere.
Even if a warship appeared ordinary, a Sea Monster undoubtedly lurked beneath it, one no less formidable than a Wonder Battleship.
A "monster" ship, surrounded by these others, particularly massive and very close in size to a Second Grade vessel, stood out distinctly from the flock.
That was the flagship of the Fifth Order Pirate King, Ocean Throne: the [Deep Sea Yanwang (Hell King of the Deep Sea)].
But everyone knew that this seemingly invincible pirate ship was, to Hailidin, nothing more than an ordinary mode of transport.
The giant-species Sea Monster he had raised, with a combat level at least equivalent to a First-Rate Ship, was the true [Deep Sea Yama]!
THUD! THUD!
Under the setting sun, led by a Dock Navigator, the two adventurer ships, the [Raven] and the [Ironclaw Vessel], sequentially furled their sails and anchored within the bay’s anchorage.
With Violet, the Third Order Grand Artificer, on board, fixing the damaged rudder of the [Ironclaw Vessel] was a re snap of the fingers.
However, the [Golden Deer], originally one of the three Wonder Battleships, had vanished without a trace, and not a single pirate officer under Byron’s command had appeared.
Captains Hawkeye Jas and [Beast Tar] Jefferson, each with their trusted crew mbers, t on the dock and nodded to each other in greeting.
"Captain Jas."
"Captain Jefferson."
The pair, who had narrowly escaped being turned into a grueso feast by the cultists, now sported significantly more luxuriant hair than when they were on Black Tide Island.
There was even a faint greenish tint in their eyes, symptoms identical to Blue-Haired Barbarossa Halding’s condition.
Clearly, they had both been swayed by the "noble sentints" of The Sea Hunter, Mr. Byron, willingly prostrating themselves at his feet and, in the process, undergoing the "Blood Source Pilgrimage," a transformational witchcraft.
The latter was a coyote-man, the forr a jackal-man.
Jas’s crew had originally practiced the "Fudu Sect Ritual" and had even used their mission targets to cultivate a batch of Reanimated Corpses. However, these proved inedible and had long since been disposed of by the Divine Son and his companions.
After his crew was largely devoured, his ship’s strength had plumted, and for the ti being, he could only focus on improving himself.
Byron’s Black Sorcery was undoubtedly the best option at that mont.
On the other hand, Jefferson’s small-species Sea Monster, the [Ironlance Shrimp]—which the Divine Son and Goddess had dragged into the deep sea—suffered no major harm. After the battle, they retrieved it from a wine bottle imbued with Black Sorcery.
Its combat power remained relatively intact.
"Is this Fortress Bridgehead? It doesn’t seem quite as terrifying as The Sea Hunter, His Excellency, described,"
Standing on the ancient, clearly hastily repaired dock and looking out at the island’s mix of old and new buildings, both n couldn’t help but feel puzzled.
Byron, who hadn’t personally set foot on the island but was silently using [Servant Sympathy] to observe it through the two n’s eyes, shared their sentint.
As a hereditary "Offshore Balancer," how could I possibly make a bet and risk myself when the situation is still unclear?
His true self, still hidden aboard the [Golden Deer], took out the Sailing Logbook of the mad clown, Koraskin. It read:
"Spiral Annals (crossed out) Silver Era, Year 1472, January 8.
Heh heh heh, we searched according to the nautical chart’s indications for another half month. Just as we were about to give up, a mysterious current appeared out of nowhere and brought us to our destination.
That must have been the guidance of the great presence whispering in my ear.
This is a human relic on a solitary island.
Yes, Fortress Bridgehead may be damp and cold, with half its buildings subrged, and (crossed out: huge, calcified scales everywhere), but it definitely belongs to humans. I know this is all very normal, perfectly normal. Places where humans live are supposed to be like this. My intuition tells that we’re probably not far from the New Continent everyone is searching for."
In a small town on Fortress Bridgehead Island, only marginally larger than Black Tide Town, half of the buildings were indeed underwater while the rest stood on land. The gigantic scales were nowhere to be seen, presumably having been cleared away by soone.
In the part not subrged, many new wooden structures had been erected; it seed even inns, taverns, and an Oriole Clubhouse had been built, complete with enormous, glowing signs, as if afraid they would go unnoticed.
Just as plants grow towards the sun, people gravitate towards profit. Wherever there is profit to be made, rchants are sure to follow.
Soon enough, the pirate enterprises that thrive on trade routes would flourish.
This is a natural rule of the social ecosystem, one that has been sustained for millennia and will continue to endure.
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