"It's over."
Pariston Hill's body lay quietly on the deck, lifeless.
His two accompanying bodyguards, Clark and Gore, were pushed up by the waves, floating to the surface. A few sharks could faintly be seen circling, drawn by the scent of blood.
Kite stood on the mast, having witnessed the entire event. His gaze lingered on the young man's not-so-tall back. Roy sensed this, turned his head, and gave him a brief, casual look before sheathing his sword.
"Young Master, how should we dispose of him?" Gotoh glanced at Pariston Hill, catching his breath as he returned.
In his opinion, anyone who offended the young master deserved to be thrown into the sea to feed the fish along with his two bodyguards.
Roy did not reply. He received a panel notification... After the deaths of Clark and Gore, they had provided him with eight and nine points of "Life Energy" respectively.
However... Pariston Hill had no lingering spirit manifest.
He was certain that the last blow had indeed pierced the opponent's heart, and Pariston Hill was indeed lying quietly at his feet, breathless, just as he had seen...
Everything seemed perfectly reasonable.
But, when Roy realized something was amiss and crouched down to examine Pariston Hill's body, his fingers had barely touched the carotid artery on his neck...
The living, breathing person visibly deflated, turning into a puddle of mud and sand that was swept away by the sea breeze, dissipating into the world...
[Vow and Limitation]
[Die for the "King," paying the permanent cost of one chess piece, substitution and resurrection.]
In the capital of the Kakin Empire, Spant.
At the south end of Tulip Street, adjacent to the Royal Palace, the center of power controlled by the Kakin Royal Family, stood a luxurious estate.
The manor was very imposing, with towering spires... antique window frames, paired with an exquisite garden meticulously tended by dozens of gardeners. Every detail flowed with aristocratic elegance and luxury...
At this moment, in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor, an "old" and a "young" person were drinking tea and playing chess.
The "old" one, around fifty years old, had his long hair tied up with a hairpin. His face was rugged, and a thick, dark long beard grew beneath his jaw. From a distance, he bore a slight resemblance to Netero, but in terms of physique... he was far sturdier.
"I warned you long ago. If you want to conjure a true dragon, you cannot limit yourself to this world. You should follow me to the true Continent and take a look...."
"Clap" A black knight on the board was ruthlessly captured by the man.
The young man sitting opposite visibly flushed with a sickly red, opened his mouth, and coughed up a mouthful of blood...
Staining the black and white chessboard.
Pariston Hill drew out the pocket square from his chest, slowly and meticulously wiping the corner of his mouth. He then reached out and touched his chest; the piercing pain was truly present, instantly pulling him back to the sea, reliving the moment.
"Roy Zoldyck... is indeed a terrifying person..."
"Who?"
"Roy Zoldyck..."
The man paused, tossed the chess piece in his hand, and chuckled savagely. "I said it's just an exam, and with your skill, you couldn't possibly fail."
But,
"If the opponent is a Zoldyck, then it's reasonable..."
Beyond stood with his hands behind his back in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. His gaze swept past the garden, past the Royal Palace, and toward the docks, where a massive ship was being built with fervor. He had named it the "Black Whale" two days prior.
His thoughts drifted, recalling the brief period of "contact" he had with that silver-haired man some time ago.
The other party was aloof and immediately refused his proposal to move his old man to convince his father to lift the limitation...
He was unwilling to be moved even for ten billion Jenny, which showed how unyielding he was when he turned hostile! (Note: Netero once made a vow that as long as he was alive, he would not allow Beyond to land on the Dark Continent. This is one of the reasons why the old man was taken out by Beyond and Pariston Hill working together.)
Pariston Hill wiped the blood from his lips, his eyes squinted in a smile...
"People, after all, have to face the real thing. That's what you told me."
Just as Beyond told him that he must have seen a true dragon to conjure one... The young man pinched the blood-stained "Dragon" chess piece on the board, toyed with it for a moment, and said solemnly, "This matter is not over. When I find the true dragon, I will settle the score with him properly."
To enjoy the pleasure of being hated, one must first learn to hate others... Beyond looked over.
The young man had just stepped through the threshold.
"Slowly... slowly... no need to rush..." he said to the youth.
This was also what he told himself, year after year. He turned back to look at the Royal Palace; the plan had already subtly begun to unfold.
On the "Poseidon."
Gotoh watched Pariston Hill's corpse turn into a puddle of mud and also sensed something was wrong.
He followed Roy's example and crouched down, touching the mud Pariston Hill's body had become, and sniffed it at his nose. "It's red clay used for 'sculpting.'"
The young butler was not born into the Zoldyck family. He had played with mud a lot as a child. Frowning, he analyzed, "The body turning into mud means the blond-haired young man standing here just now was not that guy's true body, but a substitute baked from red clay."
Connecting this to... the chessboard... and the chess pieces... the truth gradually surfaced...
"That Pariston Hill is probably not dead..." Gotoh said cautiously.
Roy stood up, picked up the branch that Gotoh had temporarily wedged into the deck's crack, and walked silently toward the bow, continuing to fish and hone his Nen ability.
In his heart, he was clear:
Whether he was dead or not was no longer so important. There was nothing new under the sun. As long as the strength was there, all schemes would eventually be extinguished into nothingness...
"Worst case, I'll just kill him again."
"Yes." Gotoh composed himself, followed him to the bow, and stood with his back to the young man, continuing to guard his back.
Night fell. The last ray of sunset disappeared, and a moon quietly rose over the sea, shedding moonlight that draped a layer of silver gauze over the "Poseidon."
People gradually began to wake up from their stupor. Without exception... their first glance was at the battlefield.
The cracked deck was a mess, and the figures of Pariston Hill, Clark, and Gore were nowhere to be seen. Only the old captain, having slapped Gus and a few other crew members awake, was bitterly carrying tools, repairing the ship, and... the serene young man, like a rock, still sat fishing at the bow, as if the terrifying swordsman just now wasn't him.
"Ah—" A scream exploded...
A moment later, the killing restarted!
People finally remembered that the point battle was not over, and a new round of struggle began, but everyone steered clear of the bow, forming a mutual understanding. This also provided Kurajing a chance to catch her breath.
The girl sat cross-legged beside Gotoh, tearing off her sleeve to use as a bandage, bandaging her wound, and simply stopping the bleeding. She pulled out a bank card from her inner pocket and handed it to Gotoh, glancing at Roy. "This is my savings from many years. Please, you must take it."
Kurajing was perceptive.
Unfortunately...
"Besides your eyes being worth some money, your entire clan is worthless..."
?
Kurajing: "..."
She suddenly looked up. Her ink-black pupils fluctuated violently due to her emotion, faintly showing signs of turning into a fiery red!