The woman didn't even blink.
Then, as suddenly as she had appeared, she vanished — swallowed by the darkness, leaving only a lingering chill in the air.
Inside the cell, Orimo's fate seemed sealed. Death awaited him. And yet, even in the shadows of despair, a spark of defiance flickered in his chest.
A day passed in silent torment. Soon, Orimo was dragged from the cell, shackled and weak, moving toward the Navy Headquarters. Less than thirty minutes remained until the execution.
Across the seas, chaos was already stirring.
Dravon Solmere's ship cut through the waves, sails snapping in the wind, his eyes fixed on the horizon, every heartbeat syncing with the urgency of his mission — to rescue Orimo at all costs.
Meanwhile, Ashveil Kenny's ship surged forward, waves crashing against the hull. He gritted his teeth, voice low and dangerous, "Orimo will only die by my hands."
And high above, Morgan Tarek's fleet of 20,000 pirates churned the waters, their crimson banners flapping violently. Morgan's eyes burned with fury, a storm of vengeance ready to obliterate the Navy for interfering in his battle.
Hidden in the shadows, the mastermind observed everything. A faint smile curved across her lips, eyes gleaming with cold precision.
"After this… is there anyone left who can challenge me?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely more than the hiss of wind through the darkness. "My power is absolute. I am the true ruler of these pitiful humans."
Even as the world moved, even as fleets converged and Orimo's fate hung by a thread, she remained untouchable — the quiet storm at the center of it all, orchestrating chaos with absolute control.