"Another one?" Captain Mori's heart sank as he laid eyes on the massive triple-masted wolf-head warship anchored ahead of Ship No. 2. With what he'd learned of Aeridar's strength, he dared not underestimate the crew of the Chris. Who knew what other powerhouses were aboard?
But the biggest problem now was the balance of the battlefield. Things were already unfavorable for the Marines, and now, with this pirate crew of uncertain origin but undeniable power, the danger had escalated significantly.
Without turning around, Aeridar already knew who was approaching and casually said, "Arlan, you're here. Just ran into someone tougher than expected."
"Oh? If even someone like you, Captain—a monster in your own right—calls him 'tough,' then he must be quite the monster himself."
Wearing pointed black leather shoes, Gilbert Arlan strolled up to Aeridar with a smile, gazing curiously down at the scene below.
"The guy's likely a top-tier Marine sent here from HQ. No way some lowly division Captain could have that kind of strength otherwise," Aeridar replied with a light chuckle, voicing his own speculation.
And he wasn't wrong. On the surface, Mori really was just a Captain assigned by Marine Headquarters to the 63rd Division of the East Blue.
"Aha, so he is from HQ! No wonder you called him tough," Arlan exaggerated his surprise, his mouth wide open as he theatrically looked down at Captain Mori.
Captain Mori's face darkened. He could tell he was being mocked.
Of course, Arlan was doing it on purpose. Even though Aeridar had labeled Mori a "tough opponent," Arlan saw the truth at a glance—his captain hadn't even broken a sweat. Not a scratch on him, breath steady, completely unfazed. Mori, on the other hand, was in shambles—blood at the corner of his mouth, suit tattered, body covered in soot and dust. There was no mistaking it—he'd taken a beating.
The difference in strength between them was already painfully clear.
"You pirates—state your names," Captain Mori raised his bronze staff and pointed it toward the two men, his expression deadly serious. "In the name of Justice, I will strike you down where you stand."
He knew full well—this was a fight with no way out. Only one side would leave this place afloat. As for the loser, there was but one fate—death.
"I'm Chris T. Aeridar, captain of the Chris Pirates," Aeridar said with a cold look, clearly catching the implication in Mori's voice.
"And I'm Gilbert Arlan, first mate of the Chris Pirates, and commander of the Second Division. A pleasure to meet you," Arlan added with a courteous bow, his right hand placed neatly over his chest like a gentleman.
Captain Mori's pupils contracted sharply. He was stunned. This guy... he's the first mate...?
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom...
Suddenly, the sharp thunder of cannon fire cut through the tension.
Everyone turned toward the source of the sound. There, like a small mountain on the sea, the wolf-head warship was unleashing a barrage. Dozens of cannons fired in unison, a deafening roar echoing across the water as massive waves rolled from the impact. The assault was focused on Mori's Ship No. 1, which was barely two hundred meters away.
The ship had taken serious damage from just the first volley, multiple hits tearing into its hull.
Though it tried to return fire, Ship No. 1 only had twelve cannons per volley—nowhere near enough to counter the barrage. In this close-range firefight, it was hopelessly outgunned. From here, one could clearly see the chaos on its deck—splintered wood, flames, blood. The casualties were piling up fast.
"F**k! Goddamn bastards! They're ambushing my ship!" Captain Mori exploded with fury, rage rising like a flame in his chest. Shit! If they sink my ship, how the hell am I supposed to get back?!
"Looks like Oliver and the others got tired of waiting and went looking for fun on their own," Arlan said, chuckling as he watched the Chris warship firing and advancing simultaneously toward Ship No. 1.
"Yeah, Oliver's never been the patient type," Aeridar replied with a shrug as he leisurely reached into his coat pocket for something.
"Die!!"
Captain Mori roared, spinning his bronze staff with a crack of wind. With a stomp so forceful it made the entire ship shudder as if it were sinking, he launched himself forward like a cannonball, leaving a deep crater in the deck behind him.
"Yep… total monster," Arlan muttered, barely able to keep his footing. His pupils narrowed to pinpricks. This was the first time he'd encountered someone this powerful outside of his captain.
But still… A flash of battle-lust sparked in Arlan's eyes as he suddenly leapt from the bow of the ship with a swift motion, intercepting Mori mid-air with a flying kick.
"You're not getting anywhere near my captain."
Boom!
A shockwave burst outward in all directions, rippling the air like a stone in a still pond. The ship rocked violently under the pressure.
Arlan's right foot clashed with Mori's bronze staff—Mori had just barely managed to block the blow.
This guy… Mori could feel the overwhelming force traveling up from Arlan's leg, and his heart grew heavier. No wonder he's the first mate—his strength is the real deal.
But what concerned him most wasn't just Arlan's power. The Chris Pirates were just a new crew, and already their captain was freakishly strong. Now their first mate was just as formidable. Who knew how many more monsters lurked in that ship?
Mori remembered—Arlan had introduced himself as both first mate and commander of the Second Division. Which meant… who was in charge of the First Division?
In most pirate crews, the First Division Commander was usually also the first mate, or at least the strongest fighter under the captain. But Arlan had both titles—meaning the First Division Commander must be someone else, likely the Head of Combat for the entire crew—and potentially even stronger than Arlan.
That realization only made Mori more anxious. He knew full well the Marines aboard Ship No. 1 couldn't handle another enemy of this caliber.
"Wahhh! The monsters are fighting again!"
"Oh crap! They're gonna tear this ship apart!"
"Damn it, I heard this Captain Mori could destroy a warship solo! Is that true?!"
...
The new arrival had instantly engaged Captain Mori in a fierce clash. The sheer pressure of their first blow had kicked up such a storm of force that Commander Torod, who'd been badly injured and sitting on the deck, scrambled to his feet and got the hell out of there.
Even Bamos, who'd been playing dead with grievous injuries, couldn't keep up the act. He started crawling away in panic.
As for the rest—the pirates and Marines alike scattered in every direction, driven by pure fear.
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