Chapter 3 King of the Five Seas, Not Bad!
[Character Card: thousand faces]
[Appearance: On the surface, just a very handsome young man]
[Personality: Unfathomable, moody, views all living beings as a drama]
[Profession: Unknown]
[Life Experience: Unknown]
[Social Connections: Tris (Awe-struck)]
[Fate Anchor: An ancient existence walking among mortals]
With the activation of this character, Tris's extreme fear and awe, along with everything he had imagined based on the "Mythical Creature form," were fed back to Nairn as "nutrients" through the [Character Parasitism and Feedback] mechanism!
Streams of pure power surged into the "thousand faces" Character Card.
Nairn felt as if he had truly mastered some abilities that did not belong to "Identity Planning" itself.
One was [Dread]. This wasn't simple momentum, but an absolute suppression originating from the level of life. This ability stemmed exactly from the fear of the Mythical Creature form that Tris had just felt.
Another was [Insight]. An intuition that could easily see through Lies and discern the inner secrets of others. This came from the shock Nairn had previously displayed by knowing Tris's background inside out.
There was also [Concealment]. The ability to perfectly restrain one's own aura and make oneself appear ordinary to others. This was precisely Tris's imagination and perception, amidst his shock, of "why a high-level existence would mingle so low-key among ordinary people."
In addition, there were various miscellaneous abilities imagined by Tris himself. Although still vague, they were like seeds, taking root and sprouting on the "thousand faces" Character Card.
These abilities were very weak and could only be used when Nairn projected his consciousness into the "thousand faces" character.
But this was undoubtedly a huge surprise!
Turning the fake into reality!
This was the most core and interesting way to play the Identity Planning Sequence!
"I still prefer the unruly way you looked just now."
Nairn looked down at Tris, who was temporarily unconscious and needed a little time to recover, spoke with a light laugh, and then turned to leave the corner.
He could feel a sense of comfort and pleasure originating from his soul.
It was the Chaos Theater.
This Fun-seeker Sefirah had obtained great satisfaction after Nairn successfully directed this drama of "a mortal testing a deity, only to be scared out of his wits by divine majesty."
It was as if it were rolling happily in his consciousness, letting out a satisfied purr like a cat that had eaten and drunk its fill.
The operation just now had earned it quite a bit of play value.
The price of the advanced Identity Planning had already been paid back significantly.
At the same time, another completely different sensation emerged from within Nairn's body.
It was a feeling of digestion, absorption, and becoming one.
Boom!
Nairn felt his spirituality boiling and sublimating.
The world became completely different in his perception.
He could more clearly sense the "character" attributes on everyone; the captain was a "dutiful navigator," the Sailors were "numb tools," and the passengers were "ignorant travelers."
The entire world, in his eyes, seemed to have truly become a giant stage.
And he was the Sequence 9 "Player" who had just stepped onto the stage!
Nairn slowly exhaled, emerging from that wonderful state of advancement.
He knew this was because his actions just now perfectly interpreted the core concept of the Path of a Thousand Faces Sequence 9—[Player].
Treating life as a game, gaining fun and power through immersive investment and acting.
Wasn't he just playing the role of a "high-level existence" just now?
As this feeling spread, Nairn clearly realized that he was no longer an ordinary person, but had truly stepped onto the Beyonder path, becoming a Sequence 9 [Player].
Although he was temporarily "wearing" the Sequence 4 "vest," once this "vest" faded, he would possess his own true Beyonder abilities.
Nairn walked out of the cabin and onto the deck.
The sea breeze brushed against his cheeks, carrying a hint of saltiness. The sun was just right, and the sea surface sparkled, a scene of peace.
The crisis was temporarily resolved. That little rat Tris wouldn't dare to make any more moves for a while.
But Nairn knew that things weren't over yet.
His play value hadn't been fully paid back yet.
According to his agreement with the Chaos Theater, he had to settle the debt before the advanced power completely dissipated.
Otherwise, even if it was just a little bit short, the punishment would still descend.
"It seems I need to find some more fun." Nairn leaned against the ship's railing, his gaze looking towards the distant horizon.
He needed a new "stage," a new "script," and... a new "Spectator."
Just as he was thinking this, the lookout at the top of the mast suddenly let out a scream of extreme terror.
"Pi... Pirates! It's the Black Emperor!"
Nairn turned his head, following everyone's gaze toward the distant sea.
Sure enough, it came.
He saw—
At the junction of sea and sky, a black dot was rapidly expanding.
Soon, the outline of that black dot became clear.
It was a ship, a pure black three-masted sailing ship that was unimaginably huge.
It was like a moving mountain; wherever it passed, even the sunlight seemed to be swallowed, casting a large shadow on the sea.
The hull was nearly a hundred meters long, with three pitch-black sails hanging high, flapping in the sea breeze like the banners of a demon god.
When it approached, everyone on the alfalfa, whether passengers or crew, felt a deep-seated fear and oppression.
That wasn't ordinary fear, but a distortion at the level of will.
Thoughts of resistance were weakened, the courage to flee was stripped away, and everyone was like a chicken being strangled by the throat, only able to watch helplessly as that ship of death slowly approached.
On the deck of the black sailing ship, leaning against the cabin, stood a mottled stone chair two or three meters high.
On the chair sat a giant-like man.
He had thick black hair and a beard that just reached his neck, wore an ancient crown like a spire, and was draped in a magnificent black robe with silver edges.
The lines of his face were hard and deep, filled with unquestionable majesty. Just looking at him from afar gave one the urge to kneel and surrender.
"King of the Five Seas... Nester..."
The captain of the alfalfa's lips trembled as he uttered this legendary name on the Berserk Sea.
His voice was full of despair.
On the deck, chaos broke out instantly.
Women's screams, men's curses, and children's cries mixed together, forming a chaotic symphony before the end of the world.
However, in this chaos, two people seemed out of place.
One was Tris.
He had just been scared unconscious and was now scared awake.
After being jolted into a sitting position, although he showed a terrified expression like the others, deep down, he was inexplicably calm. Because he knew there was a true "high-level existence" on this ship.
He subconsciously looked in Nairn's direction, with a hint of inquiry and expectation in his eyes.
And the other was Nairn himself.
When Nester's Dread, originating from the "Mentor of Disorder" and distorting the will of others, descended, Nairn felt it too.
It was a kind of mental pollution that forcibly stuffed concepts like "you are weak," "you cannot resist," and "be obedient" into your brain.
Had it been him before, he probably would have lost all will to resist instantly, just like the captain.
But now, it was different.
He had just advanced to "Player," and his spirituality had undergone a transformation. More importantly, he was still "wearing" the demigod vest of "thousand faces."
That mental pressure washed over him like a breeze over a mountain, failing to stir even the slightest ripple in his heart.
He looked with interest at the approaching "Black Emperor" and Nester on the throne.
"Sequence 3, Frenzied Mage. He's got more than a few tricks."
This was a demigod. With every gesture, they could make hundreds or thousands of ordinary people lose their will to resist.
But... Nairn touched his pocket.
Inside was all the wealth he had saved up by living frugally.
Just get robbed like this?
Not a chance! I'll even weld the windows shut!
A resolutely firm belief welled up in Nairn's heart.
[I must protect my assets!]
This wasn't some grand ideal or noble sentiment; it was just a transmigrator's simplest desire to protect his meager belongings.
But the moment this belief arose, the identity known as "thousand faces" within him was stirred.
Nairn didn't make any exaggerated movements, nor did he say anything pretentious.
He simply cast his gaze across the surging waves and locked eyes directly with the giant figure on the throne... Nester was sitting bored on his "Black Stone Throne."
To him, plundering a small passenger ship was like a giant crushing an ant; he didn't even have the interest to spare it a second glance.
His pirate crew were already rubbing their hands in anticipation; as soon as the ship pulled close, they would pounce like a pack of wolves and loot every last bit of treasure.
All he needed to do was sit here and release his aura, ensuring that no blind fool would try to resist and soil his deck.
Everything was just like the hundreds of robberies before—dull and tedious.
However, at this moment, Nester's brow suddenly furrowed slightly.
He felt a hint of something being amiss.
Within his "Domain of Disorder," everyone's mind should have been twisted, falling into fear and submission.
But on that passenger ship, there was one person whose mind was like a solid reef, remaining unmoved no matter how his spiritual tsunami washed over it.
Not only that, but from that "reef," a faint yet extremely high-quality aura seemed to emanate.
It was the aura of a peer.
For the first time, a hint of surprise appeared in Nester's deep eyes.
A demigod? A demigod!
A demigod was actually hidden on this tattered passenger ship?!
You've got to be kidding me!
He immediately sat up straight, his laziness and majesty replaced by solemnity. His gaze, sharp as a hawk's, instantly locked onto the source of that aura.
At the bow was an ordinary-looking young man.
He wore decent clothes and wasn't particularly tall; he even had a relaxed smile on his face, as if he were watching a show.
But Nester knew he definitely wasn't mistaken.
That demigod-level aura was radiating from this young man. Although extremely restrained and almost imperceptible, it was as clear as a firefly in the night to a fellow demigod.
In an instant, countless thoughts flashed through Nester's mind.
Who is this?
Which Pathway does this demigod belong to? Why would he be on an ordinary passenger ship? How could such a big dragon be in a small pond!
Is it a coincidence? Or... a trap?
Is it a demigod from the Church of Storms, the Church of Knowledge, or the military conducting a sting operation? Trying to lure him in and wipe them all out?
As a seasoned veteran who had survived the Berserk Sea for so many years, Nester's vigilance instantly reached its peak.
He knew very well that in Beyonder battles, intelligence was always paramount. It would be extremely foolish to strike rashly against an opponent who was also a demigod but whose background was completely unknown.
Especially with the other's posture... He had clearly noticed him but wasn't tense at all; instead, he seemed to be watching an interesting play.
This composure, this calmness—there were only two possibilities.
Either he was a Lunatic with absolute confidence in his own strength.
Or he was a Conspirer who was fully prepared and waiting for him to jump in.
Neither was a good sign.
Nairn naturally didn't know that Nester had imagined so much in just a few seconds.
He was simply pushing the [Dread] ability of his "thousand faces" persona to its limit.
He didn't release his spirituality; that bit of Sequence 9 spirituality was a joke in front of a demigod.
What he released was the [Concept] belonging to the "God of a Thousand Faces," which had just been "solidified" from Tris's perception.
It was a sense of indifference originating from a higher level of life, looking down upon all living things.
He didn't need to show power; he only needed to let the other party know, "I am here," and "I am a peer."
When masters clash, a mere touch is enough.
A single look, a collision of auras, was enough.
Nester felt that faint but incredibly pure demigod aura, and his wariness deepened.
That Dread, in terms of range, was far inferior to his own domain.
But in terms of essence, it was filled with an ancientness and eeriness that even made his heart palpitate!
It wasn't an aura that any known demigod Pathway could possess; it felt... as if it had stepped directly out of some indescribable ancient myth!
More importantly, the intensity of that Dread told him clearly that the other's status was definitely not lower than his own!
Nester was no brute; on the contrary, he had become the King of the Five Seas by relying on caution far beyond ordinary people and a sharp sense of danger.
To fight to the death with an unknown powerhouse of the same level with a strange aura, all for the sake of some treasure on a mere passenger ship?
That would be the stupidest deal in the world!
He even felt a hint of... an incomprehensible flavor of Authority belonging to "change" and "falsehood" from that aura.
This wasn't a navy admiral he was familiar with, nor was it one of those ascetics from the churches.
This was an unknown, mysterious demigod.
Rule number one of survival on the Berserk Sea: never get into unnecessary entanglements with the mysterious.
Offending a demigod of unknown origin for a ship's worth of treasure—this deal was a massive loss.
Nester had fought countless battles; he had survived to this day not by being reckless, but by possessing the wisdom of knowing when to "back down" better than anyone else.
In the mysterious world, caution and being low-key were the secrets to longevity.
No change in emotion could be seen on Nester's face.
He was still the majestic King of the Five Seas.
He slowly raised a hand.
On the Black Emperor, the gazes of all the pirates instantly focused on his hand.
Then, they saw the King's hand gently wave to the side.
"Boom—!"
The war drums on the ship came to an abrupt halt.
All the pirates were stunned.
They were all too familiar with this gesture.
—Retreat.
No explanation, no nonsense.
Under everyone's gaze, the Black Emperor, like a demon lord of the sea, began to slowly turn its bow.
Its massive black sails readjusted their angle, catching the wind as it slowly sailed away in the direction it had come.
The whole process was eerily quiet.
Everyone on the alfalfa stared blankly at this scene, their minds completely empty.
They had been prepared to be robbed or even slaughtered.
But... they just left?
The legendary cruel and violent King of the Five Seas had rushed over aggressively, and then... after one look, he turned around and left?
What's going on?
The captain's mouth hung open, and the telescope in his hand almost fell to the ground.
The passengers who had been screaming and crying just a moment ago also forgot their fear, their faces filled with confusion and bewilderment.
Only Tris, in the moment he saw the Black Emperor retreat, looked at the back of the figure at the bow, which remained as calm as a light breeze, with a gaze of incomparable fanaticism and worship.
A miracle!
This was undoubtedly a miracle!
He couldn't think of any other explanation besides the divine power of Mr. "thousand faces"!
And Nairn, watching the receding back of the Black Emperor, finally let out a soft sigh of relief.
He had seemed composed just now, but in reality, his heart had been in his throat.
After all, that was a living demigod.
Fortunately, the high-sequence powerhouses in the mysterious world were each more protective of their lives and more cautious than the last.
"King of the Five Seas, Nester..."
Nairn looked at the departing fleet and couldn't help but praise in his heart.
"Not bad!"
To be able to make such a decisive judgment and leave immediately—this Insight and caution truly deserved the title of "King."
He's a man of class.