The ship drifted quietly through the mist, its sails barely stirring in the cold wind. Ahead, the haunted island rose from the sea—its black rocks jagged like fangs. At its heart stood a giant skull, half-buried in the earth, as if time itself had tried and failed to bury it.
Mikael stood at the rail, his long blond hair damp with sea spray. His eyes stayed fixed on the monstrous shape in the fog. His chest tightened.
"That's it," he whispered. "The place from the stories."
Beside him, a small red-haired girl clung to the railing. Her voice trembled like the wind.
"Is it true?" she asked. "That it's cursed?"
Mikael didn't answer.
Not because he didn't know.
But because he feared it was.
Below deck, the crew stirred. Some laughed, some sharpened blades, others told each other old songs of the island—songs sung in taverns and whispered beside graves. To most, it was just another adventure.
But not to Captain Azan.
In his dim, creaking cabin, the old pirate stood alone. His white hair framed a face hardened by storms, betrayals, and battles. His gaze was locked on his palm.
A black circle had appeared there—smooth, perfect, and dark as spilled ink. It pulsed faintly. Cold. Silent. Alive.
Azan's jaw tightened.
"I didn't come all this way to run," he murmured. "But if stepping aside means they live… so be it."
A knock broke the silence.
Mikael entered, eyes sweeping the room—then stopping at the black mark. His face hardened.
"Are you telling telling everything ?," Mikael said quietly.
" If I cloud hide ....I which i could ! ..I would have ..or...maybe it's fate ," Azan replied without looking up.
"They deserve more than silence."
At that, Azan lifted his gaze. The lines on his face seemed deeper in the lamplight.
"Do you want to admit it, Mikael? That no one survives the Black Mark?"
The words hung in the air. Neither spoke.
Then Azan turned to a drawer. From it, he took a small silver ring, worn smooth by time.
"Do you remember this?"
Mikael stared. "That's… mine."
Azan nodded. "You were just a boy when we found you—washed ashore with nothing but this ring. I kept it. Thought you'd want it back… when you were ready."
He pressed it into Mikael's palm.
"You're ready now."
From above, a shout echoed through the timbers.
"Captain Azan! We're ready!"
Azan didn't move.
"Captain!"
At last, he spoke.
"Tell them to gather on deck."
The crew gathered under a darkening sky. Shadows stretched across the deck, long and thin, as if the night itself was reaching for them. The wind moved through the sails with a low whisper, carrying words no man could understand.
Azan stepped forward. His stride was slow, deliberate. The tails of his coat fluttered in the wind like the last flickers of a dying flame.
"I, Azan, son of Ikhram… step down today as your captain."
The deck erupted. Gasps. Shouts. Questions all crashing together.
Mikael felt his chest tighten.
"What are you talking about?!" someone shouted from the crowd.
Azan lifted his hand.
The Black Mark was there for all to see—dark, perfect, and cold. Its silence was heavier than any roar of the sea.
The voices died instantly.
A sailor near the front swallowed hard. "That's it… isn't it?"
Another whispered, "No one survives that."
CLACK.
A sharp, final sound split the air. A figure landed on the deck with the weight of judgment itself.
Ibrahim.
One of the seven grandmasters.
His long black coat flared as his boots struck wood. Black glasses caught the light, reflecting the restless sea.
"Anyone who moves… dies," he said, voice as flat as steel.
The crew froze where they stood.
Azan stepped up beside him and laid a steady hand on Ibrahim's shoulder.
"I believe in my men," he said.
Ibrahim gave a short nod, then stepped back into the shadows.
Azan turned to face the sea, his voice calm, but heavy with something none of them could name.
"This ship needs a future. I won't be the one to sink it."
Then he faced them all—his men, his brothers, his lions. His gaze burned with a quiet fire.
"One of the grandmasters will take my place before the sun sets."
Mikael stepped forward. The words rose to his lips—he wanted to stop this, to fight it.
But Azan looked at him.
And the words died in his throat.
Azan's voice rose one last time.
"And for the last time, my lions, my brothers—we hunt together."
Without another word, he turned and leapt over the side into a waiting longboat.
One by one, the seven grandmasters followed him. Then the eighteen commanders. Their oars cut the water as they moved toward the looming jungle, its shadows curling like a trap ready to spring.
only Mikael and the small girl yuki stayed behind.
Mikael stood at the rail and watched the longboat fade into the mist.
‼️Author explains the black mark:‼️
The black mark is very well know in the pirate world .
It is just a peice of black paper who ever gets it die as the last ray of sun disappear on the horizon.
Some believe a traitor from the crew will kill you .
Other thinks a monster will eat you ...Or a see creature!
It is so rare. Very small but famous people had died to it no one knows how it kills but the one thing they know is that it kills .
[In later chapter u will know how it kills .]