On a bright, sunny morning, two large galleys powered by both sail and oar departed Genoa, sailing along the Tyrrhenian Sea towards Civitavecchia on the western coast of Italy. Their flags were unmistakable—gold and silver keys crossed beneath a triple tiara—the emblem of the Pope, the sole representative of God on Earth.
Both vessels carried distinguished individuals and were laden with priceless treasures that Pope Leo X had collected from across the world in his passionate pursuit of art.
Such magnificent ships, adorned in gold and silver, would normally have required an armed escort. But the Pope, claiming supreme authority in Heaven and on Earth, believed that no one would dare offend his divine representative—even in his absence. The crew shared this belief, and their complacency allowed the two ships to drift apart, eventually so distant they could no longer see each other on the horizon.
As the lead vessel passed Elba Island, Captain Paolo noticed a modest-sized sailing boat drawing alongside them. Peering through his telescope, he saw nets hanging from the boat's sides, lethargic sailors scrubbing the deck, and dried fish strung along the ropes.
Probably just a local fishing boat from Elba, Paolo thought, lowering the telescope and turning back to jest with the nobles on board.
Both ships had to pass through the narrow Corsican Channel. The fishing boat came ever closer—within three hundred yards in mere minutes. Realizing something was amiss, the galleon tried to unfurl its sails to widen the gap, but the "fishing boat" gave chase with sudden speed. The sailors cast off the nets, revealing the black mouths of cannons.
"Fire!!"A demonic voice gave the order.
Though the Pope's ship was well-armed, its response was too slow. Before they could align the cannons, iron shot from the pirate ship smashed into the hull. After just two volleys, most of the deck crew lay dead.
"I'm going in."Nick leapt onto the deck, swinging a sickle-chain to cleanly take off Captain Paolo's head from five meters away. Six axe-wielding raiders followed in a fan formation behind her. With them guarding her rear, Nick advanced like a reaper through wheat. Within five minutes, the ship's first mate raised the white flag.
The pirates confiscated the weapons from the sailors. Hayreddin climbed onto the deck and asked, "Well, how did the axe-men perform?"
Nick shook her head. "They stuck too close. I couldn't swing properly." Used to solo combat, she found her movements hindered by teammates at her back.
"It's a coordination issue. You'll get used to it."
But there was no time for drills. Clapping his hands, Hayreddin turned to the terrified prisoners with a grin:"Alright, gentlemen. I'll be needing your coats, shoes, hats… and ladies, your jewels and accessories. Please form an orderly line."
The women, thinking the pirates would ravage them, screamed and fainted, their wails louder than cannon fire.
After stripping them bare, the pile of gowns and coats formed a small mountain. Hayreddin chuckled and said, "Brothers, let's play nobility for once." Tossing a layered skirt at Nick's head, he grinned slyly. "Here, try this on."
Nick inspected the garment front to back, slipped it over her shirt, and turned to ask the raiders,"How do I look? Like a woman?"
"Not a chance! Captain's a real man!" Thumbs up.
"Ha! That skirt's hilarious!"The pirates laughed heartily and declared that whatever Nick wore, she'd always be a man's man.
With sails down, the papal ship had virtually come to a stop. Two hours later, the second galleon appeared over the horizon. As it neared, its captain saw a mid-sized sailboat tied to the stern of the first ship. From a distance, the papal sailors on deck appeared to be in proper formation. Assured, he assumed the smaller boat was just a captured prize.
Hayreddin, now dressed in a gold-buttoned naval coat and captain's hat atop his red hair, smiled mischievously as the unaware second ship approached.
Nick stared at him blankly. "Captain, you look like a lion, but your smile's like a fox."
"To survive at sea, you have to be both fierce and sly."
At three hundred yards, Hayreddin ordered the Sea Serpent to fire chain shot—a special type of ammunition where two cannonballs are linked by a chain. When fired, the high-speed spinning chain destroys everything in its path, especially effective against masts.
Caught off guard, the second papal ship was stunned. The chain shot broke its mainmast, leaving it like a bird without wings—dead in the water.
With cunning and firepower, the Sea Serpent captured both galleons with ease.
Flames rose as the pirate ship circled its prey like wolves. This second vessel, however, fought harder. Even with its mast down, it resisted capture.
Hayreddin stroked his chin. Perhaps a capable warrior aboard? But most on papal ships were pious fools who'd rather die than associate with Muslims.
"Captain, Ships 2 and 3 can't handle it. Want me to go?"Nick asked, munching on dried fish, the wrinkled skirt flapping around like stolen laundry.
Watching the blaze, Hayreddin realized the priceless paintings and artifacts would be lost to the flames. He ordered the Sea Serpent to approach.
As they drew closer, a golden figure emerged through the firelight—a tall man with shining blond hair wielding a rapier, holding off five or six pirates. His movements were lightning-fast, his blade like falling snow, drawing blood with every stroke. He exuded nobility, his cornflower-blue eyes radiant and unclouded, like the archangel Michael in battle.
Firelight reflected in Nick's dark eyes. She gripped her scythe, every muscle tense with anticipation.
A real opponent at last.
"You can have him," Hayreddin said with a grin.
The skirt split in two and fell into the sea.
Karl de Balemiano would never forget that moment—the graceful figure leaping onto the railing, her spinning weapon like a coiled black serpent.
The one he had dreamed of since birth, chased since boyhood, sought through years of wandering, vowed to protect for life—
Found again.
"NICOLE!!!!!"
"Huh? Who are you?"Nick scratched her head, confused. Anyone who called her real name had to be someone from the past, but she was sure she'd never seen this face.
"I don't know you."
The young man was stunned. "You… How could you… Were you forced into this? You're living in such hardship—it's all my fault…"
His tear-filled gaze creeped Nick out. Was this guy insane?
"Captain?" the pirates surrounding the man looked to Nick for orders.
"Well, are you fighting or surrendering? Make up your mind."
After a long internal struggle, Karl dropped his blood-stained sword."I surrender."
Nick walked over and kicked the weapons away. She'd hoped for a rare challenge, only to be met with soggy bread.
"You know me?"
"…No. I—I saw your portrait in Florence."
"Oh." Nick understood. That old man had asked her real name. A nude portrait would certainly reveal her gender.
"Geez, no need to be that emotional," she muttered.
"I… I fell in love at first sight with your painting and then—"
"Shut up. Tie this fool up. He's not right in the head."
With no resistance left, the second galleon was swiftly taken. Box after box of treasures were hauled out. Pleased, Hayreddin gathered the trembling captives on deck.
"This batch is top quality. We'll easily earn an extra twenty thousand gold coins."
Nick's eyes lit up. "Slaves?"
Hayreddin shook his head. "A strong black slave sells for three silver coins. I don't deal in cheap goods. These nobles will pay dearly to ransom their kin."
"How do we price them? Many changed into peasant clothes before we boarded."
"Come here, I'll teach you."
Hayreddin walked to a pale-faced man and said:"Though he wears a rough shirt, his hair is shiny, skin fair, and hands soft—clearly never done labor. Two guards stuck close to him. He also tried to throw a ring into the sea, likely bearing a family crest. This one's a noble—worth at least 1,500 gold."
"Oooh…" Nick pointed at a flamboyantly dressed lady. "And this one?"
"Her jewelry looks fancy but isn't genuine. She reeks of perfume, but not the rare kinds like frankincense or ambergris—just common French lavender. True nobles maintain decorum even in distress, something ingrained since birth. But she sobbed until her makeup ran. Darling, if you pick her, you'll lose money. She's just a high-end courtesan."
Nick's eyes sparkled in admiration.
"Shameless!!"The golden youth growled. Watching Hayreddin teach Nick such sordid appraisals made Karl seethe. How could this pirate sully her angelic soul?
"Shameless!!" Karl shouted again.
"Shameless? Ha… Perhaps. But you, the righteous, are now my prisoners."
Nick looked up. "Captain, who is he?"
"Look at his hands—strong, calloused from years of sword training. Tanned skin, sun-damaged hair, old clothes that fit well. Not a pampered noble, but proud. Even in surrender, he holds his head high. This man is a fallen knight."
"He's yours, little one," Hayreddin whispered, voice teasing and dark.
Nick fell silent, staring into the crowd.
"Another target?"
"Yes…" Nick pushed past the prisoners to a fat man hiding at the rear.
"I'll assess this one myself."
She raised his pig-like face with her boot.
"Obese, dull-witted—obviously does nothing but gorge all day. Shifty eyes, thick lips—a liar and manipulator who deceives and condemns innocents while selling indulgences to the rich."
The man trembled, making the sign of the cross, mumbling, "God, Holy Mother, save me…"
Nick kicked his side. A pouch of coins and gem-studded crucifixes spilled out.
"Even in death, he clings to gold."
Then she stomped on his thick fingers. The man howled.
"Greedy, filthy hands that take bribes and bully the weak. You sell heaven to the highest bidder."
"Please… have mercy, in God's name…"
"God is dead." Nick sneered. Her eyes black, voice like a sigh. "Bishop Callitus—do you remember me?"
"Stop! Killing him only stains your hands!" Karl shouted, bound and helpless.
"Nick, he's the most valuable prisoner—we all share that profit," Hayreddin warned.
Nick smiled indifferently. "If I can't even touch this one, then what's the point of going to sea?"
The scythe moved faster than the wind.
A head flew into the sea.Blood stained the sail.Limbs scattered.Guts spilled across the deck.
With a single sweep, the Sea Serpent turned this powerful bishop into chunks of flesh.
Ah, Uncle. No time for torment—I gave him a quick death.
Nick lowered her weapon and returned to Hayreddin.
"Sorry."
"You get no prize this time," Hayreddin declared, then whispered in her ear:"Next time you disobey, you'll get the whip."
"…Yes."
"Say it properly."
"Yes, Captain."Nick lowered her head.