Orimo knelt slowly beside the torn skin.
"...Sorry," he whispered.
Cold wind brushed past his face, carrying the salt of the ocean.
He lifted his gaze to the moonlit sea — eyes burning softly.
"I'm back."
The waves roared.
The wind howled.
"Now it's time to let the world know."
Suddenly—
A mouth opened on his arm.
Wet.
Alive.
Smiling.
Orimo stared.
The mouth spoke, voice low and unnatural.
"Don't worry… I'm your guide."
A faint grin stretched across the skin.
"First, we have to take back your crewmates. Where are they?"
Orimo replied calmly, staring at the horizon.
"I left them at Emka. They should still be there."
The mouth widened.
"Cool. Then you'll have to head there."
A pause.
"Steal a pirate ship."
Orimo frowned slightly.
"There's a problem."
"What is it?" Ventrax asked.
"Morgan Tarek… he's one of the True Conquerors."
Orimo clenched his fist.
"Can I beat him?"
The mouth in his arm twisted into a grin.
"I'm with you… so fear not."
A faint, dangerous tone dropped into its voice.
"I'm barely at my full power… but it should be enough."
Orimo murmured, staring at the endless ocean glowing beneath the moon.
"…Okay then."
The sea stretched before him.
Dark.
Silent.
Waiting.