The "King of the Five Seas," Nast, had tried to establish order upon the ocean. He had not only laid down a code of conduct for pirates but also held regular pirate assemblies.
He presided over these gatherings, mediating disputes between various factions, and in doing so provided pirates with a platform for exchange.
"By my reckoning, it's about time for the new assembly to begin."
The boatswain, "Sea Serpent" Walter, said happily.
Walter had good reason to be pleased. Having successfully obtained the Sequence 7 potion formula, he now urgently needed the corresponding materials.
The pirate assembly also featured an open market, where pirates traded all manner of goods, from extraordinary materials to precious jewelry.
He had already prepared the money for his purchases and was only waiting to attend the gathering.
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Silas gave a noncommittal nod, his gaze sweeping over the others in the captain's cabin. After receiving the invitation, he had summoned his Beyonder crew members back to the ship to hold a small meeting and hear their thoughts.
"Captain, you really do carry some weight. Someone was sent specially to deliver your invitation."
"Sea Serpent" continued, "Normally, pirates receive notice through public channels."
As he spoke, a sense of pride welled up in his heart. He couldn't help but feel that his captain truly deserved his fame as the world-renowned "Blood Reverend," that even the "King of the Five Seas," whose reputation had spanned centuries, had to take him seriously.
"I rather feel that Nast wasn't giving the captain that much face, actually."
Beside him, Anderson crossed his arms and voiced a differing opinion.
"Eh, why do you say that?"
Walter asked, surprised.
"I'm judging by the form of address."
Anderson shook his head. The "King of the Five Seas," Nast, had not addressed the captain as the "King of Scarlet," but merely as the "Blood Reverend."
This likely suggested he did not recognize the captain's claim to be a ruler of the seas... After going to the pirate assembly, he might well continue trying to suppress them.
In other words, there might be unexpected danger lurking behind this invitation.
"Is that so?"
Walter blinked.
Though he was rather shrewd, he had no experience in matters at this higher level.
"Indeed, invitations for occasions like this are always worded with great care."
Sophia, seated to the side, voiced her agreement. As the most rule-conscious member of the group, being of royal blood, she had standing to weigh in on such matters.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy at once.
The influence of the strongest pirate alive, the "King of the Five Seas" Nast, needed no elaboration. If he was displeased by the captain's self-proclaimed status as a ruler of the seas, then their fleet could well find itself in an unfavorable position.
In the worst case, they might have to face open hostility from that very king of the seas.
But Silas did not seem overly concerned with this. What interested him more was another matter entirely.
"Say,"
He glanced around at everyone, then spoke.
"Actually, there's something else I've been curious about since earlier. Isn't the 'King of the Five Seas' a pirate? Why does he still call himself the 'Earl of White Maple'?"
"That's because of Emperor Roselle."
Anderson, who hailed from the Republic of Intis, offered the explanation. "In order to strike at the maritime trade of other nations, Emperor Roselle summoned Nast's father, the great pirate Savigny Solomon, to White Maple Palace and bestowed upon him the title of Earl of White Maple. Nast inherited the title and continues to style himself as such."
Silas let out an involuntary laugh.
"Even though Roselle, who granted him the title, has long since fallen, and Intis has become a republic, Nast still guards this title as though it were some treasure?"
He asked.
The whole affair carried a faintly absurd and comical air of irony.
"Indeed. Not only that, he has openly declared that sooner or later he will establish a nation belonging to pirates, and that he himself will become a grand duke, a prince, even an emperor."
Anderson laughed as well.
Silas was a transmigrator, and Anderson hailed from the Republic; naturally, their attitudes toward nobility and titles differed from those of others.
The expressions of the others present were more complicated, especially Sophia's.
"So, are we going to attend or not?"
Dakwell wiped away his oily sweat and asked.
Silas gradually stopped laughing.
"Makes no difference to me."
He said.
Whether Nast genuinely took issue with his claim to kingship, or whether it was simply a matter of imprecise wording, neither mattered much to him. He cared little for such empty titles; what mattered was whether his own goals were being achieved.
"Let's do this."
Silas thought it over and said, "We'll go about our business as usual and wait for further notice. If the 'King of the Five Seas' holds his pirate assembly somewhere not too far from us, we can go. If it's held somewhere far away, there's no need to make a special trip."
Since Nast wasn't giving him much face to begin with, there was certainly no need for him to be overly eager either.
"Understood."
"Got it."
No one else raised any objections. Even Walter merely showed a trace of disappointment on his face, without voicing any complaint.
"Alright, you're all dismissed."
Having heard everyone's opinions, Silas waved his hand, then, as though suddenly remembering something, asked, "By the way, during your time on the island, did you hear any new news?"
"New news? The most talked-about news at sea right now is that thing we pulled off a few days ago."
Anderson said with a laugh, pulling a newspaper from inside his coat and handing it to Silas.
Silas took it casually and saw the headline printed across the top:
"Blood Reverend Strikes Bayam Again, Openly Declares Intent to Become the Fifth King of the Seas!"
The photograph in the newspaper was quite striking: after being bathed in cannon fire, the plaza had suffered severe destruction. Amid the burning flames, the rising smoke, and the collapsing buildings, the flagpole alone had remained intact.
At its very top, what fluttered was not the colony's flag, but a pitch-black pirate flag, its centerpiece a bloodied skull, ferocious and menacing.
"According to reports, the pirates disguised themselves as a warship, infiltrated the harbor, and immediately opened fire, launching a surprise attack that destroyed the coastal defense guns... Admiral Amelius was injured in the attack... the Feysac Empire has publicly placed a bounty on the whereabouts of the 'Blood Reverend'..."
Leonard read the newspaper with a heavy expression. Upon seeing just how much damage the pirates had inflicted on Bayam, he could no longer contain himself and slapped the paper down on the table with a loud crack.
"Old man!"
He said, voice low and suppressed, "Tell me the truth. You noticed this a long time ago, didn't you!"
"Noticed what?"
The aged voice asked inside his mind.
"Don't play dumb! I mean the matter of the 'Blood Reverend'!"
Leonard shouted. "With your abilities, there's no way you wouldn't have noticed something was off about him. You must have known long ago and just didn't tell me!"
Over these past few days, he had become increasingly convinced that those two people were his former colleagues; many of the doubts he'd harbored before seemed to confirm this.
But why? On what grounds?
His mind was in turmoil, yet he heard that aged voice respond calmly: "Careful. Someone's coming."
"Ding-dong..."
The doorbell outside rang. Leonard rose and went to answer it. He pulled the door open, and standing opposite him was a handsome, red-eyed man, who raised his chin slightly upon seeing him.
"Good afternoon. Are you Mr. Leonard Mitchell?"
Emlyn White asked, with a hint of arrogance in his tone.