The sea breeze caressed the ship's sails as it moved placidly across the open sea. There were no signs of other vessels, islands, or even enemies. Only sky and water.
Tamamo, on the ship's bow, had her eyes closed, concentrating deeply. Her fox ears trembled slightly, as if searching for something beyond the wind.
"Hmm... still nothing... no echo of the Grail..."
Tired, she sat on the deck. Leonel, who had been watching her with a slight smile, approached silently and knelt before her. Without a word, he tenderly caressed her face, making Tamamo let out a small, enchanted sigh.
Tamamo:
"My lord... if you keep pampering me like this, I'll lose control..."
Leonel, with a light laugh:
"I don't want you to exhaust yourself. You're already doing more than anyone could. Thank you for not giving up."
Tamamo, visibly cheered up, stretched and hugged him tightly.
"With your love, I can keep going until the end of the world."
Alone, Leonel leaned back against the ship's railing. His gaze was lost on the horizon. The calm waves contrasted with the silent storm inside him.
Leonel (thought):
"We've been sailing for days... and still nothing. What if I'm leading them straight into a dead end? What if... I fail?"
"Are you okay?" interrupted a soft but firm voice.
Leonel turned and saw Jeanne standing, looking at him with concern. She wore her usual white and blue armor, but her expression was entirely human. Close.
Leonel:
"Yeah, just thinking... or well, worrying."
Jeanne approached and sat beside him, letting silence speak for a few seconds.
"You know... I've been watching you. You carry a lot on your shoulders, more than any person should."
Leonel sighed.
"I'm not a hero. I'm just someone who was thrown into this... and if I fail, everyone who trusts me... you, Mash, Nero, Tamamo, Drake... they could all die. That terrifies me."
Jeanne looked at him with compassion, then placed a hand over his.
"True leaders aren't those who never doubt... they are those who, even with fear, keep moving forward. As you do."
Leonel, surprised by her tenderness, averted his gaze but didn't withdraw his hand.
"Besides... you're not alone," she added with a slight smile. "If you ever fall, I'll be there to lift you up. That is my promise."
Leonel felt his chest tighten. It wasn't like Tamamo's passionate affection or Nero's imperial adoration. What he felt with Jeanne was... warmth. Honesty. Something pure.
"Thank you... Jeanne."
She only nodded, and for a moment, they stayed just like that, hands joined and the sound of the sea filling the space between them.
As the day fell and the clouds tinted the sky orange, Tamamo on the bow opened her eyes abruptly. Her ears bristled.
"A signal! Subtle, but powerful... it's close!"
Hearing her, Leonel stood up with renewed energy. Jeanne, beside him, shared his determination.
From the helm, Drake shouted excitedly:
"Finally some action! Everyone get ready, we're heading straight to the heart of this mystery!"
The sky had turned a deep blue when Tamamo raised her voice from the ship's bow. Her eyes shone with intensity, her fox ears firm and alert.
"There it is! The magical signal is intensifying... right ahead!"
Drake, without wasting time, turned the helm forcefully and roared with excitement:
"Hold on! We're going straight for the source of that signal."
Waves crashed against the ship's hull as if the sea itself warned of the danger ahead. And then, emerging from thick mist, they saw it.
A colossal ship, at least twice the size of Drake's vessel, with weathered sails and masts decorated with skulls and rusted chains. The ship looked like it came from a nightmare... or a forgotten legend.
But the most unsettling thing wasn't its size or appearance.
It was the flag.
A black skull with a twisted crown, two crossed sabers, and a snake coiled around the bones... waving on high.
Drake, seeing it, took a step back with eyes wide open.
"That flag... no... it can't be!"
"Do you recognize it?" Leonel asked cautiously.
Drake nodded, her voice trembling.
"It's the flag of the 'Dread Leviathan'... the flagship of Blackbeard's crew. It was destroyed years ago. That's impossible!"
Leonel frowned, processing the information. He remembered the informant's words: "A ship that shouldn't exist, commanded by a dead captain..."
Subtly, he turned his head towards Tamamo and Nero, who were already tense.
Tamamo, without speaking, nodded slowly. Her ears flattened slightly, a sign she had perceived something more.
Nero, for her part, narrowed her eyes and said in a low, solemn tone:
"There's no doubt... that presence is not human."
Leonel closed his eyes for a moment, connecting with Tezcatlipoca, who confirmed the suspicion:
"That vessel carries within it a powerful... and disturbed Servant. The magic enveloping it is not natural. The Holy Grail may have intervened directly with it..."
Mash gripped her shield tightly.
"So... are we facing the enemy?"
Jeanne, firm as always, stepped forward beside Leonel.
"We don't know its intention yet. But we can't let our guard down."
Leonel nodded.
"Drake, bring us closer... cautiously. If that ship is here, it might be part of the core of this singularity. And that makes it a threat... or a vital clue."
Drake, regaining her composure, smiled with pirate arrogance.
"I have a good line ready to welcome those bastards if they try anything. Everyone ready! And let it not be said that Francis Drake fears ghosts of the past!"
The ship turned gently towards the "Dread Leviathan." The mist began to thicken again.
Everyone on deck was ready, their hearts beating strongly. Before them, the legend of pirate terror sailed the seas once more, and Leonel, accompanied by his loyal Servants, was about to discover what face the enemy guarding this cursed sea had.
The sea was silent, almost reverent, as both ships—Drake's and the dreaded Dread Leviathan—floated face to face, so close that the creaking of wood and the sound of flapping sails could be heard clearly. The tension was almost palpable.
And then, from the mist beginning to dissipate in the salty sea breeze, a figure rose on the enemy ship's deck.
A shrill, screeching, and unpleasant laugh tore through the silence like a rusty knife.
"Fufufufu! So it's you, Francis Drake! You old sea witch and destroyer of my legendary pirate charm!" exclaimed with theatricality Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard.
He wore his classic black attire adorned with fake skulls and flags with broken hearts. He had a sparkling and clearly unbalanced gaze, plus a smile that sent shivers down the spine due to its intensity.
Drake, with a vein marked on her forehead, clicked her tongue.
"A witch, you say? You have the nerve to call me a witch when you look like an otaku who fell into a barrel of gunpowder and survived by a miracle, you bastard with a late high school complex!"
Blackbeard made an exaggeratedly indignant face.
"Hey! This look is the most elegant and modern in the pirate underworld! Don't you know how to appreciate the style of a true moe lover?"
Having said that, he diverted his gaze to the girls on Leonel's ship. His expression went from exaggerated to even more disturbing. He looked at Tamamo, Nero, Jeanne, Artoria, Mash... and then he stopped.
"Hmm... What kind of party is this? Where are the lolis?!!" he shouted with total impudence and tears of frustration. "How dare you set sail across the seas without a sweet, petite, innocent girl?! This is a breach of pirate etiquette!"
The silence on Drake's ship was immediate and crushing.
Everyone—Leonel, Jeanne, Mash, Nero, Tamamo, and Artoria—slowly turned to look at the degenerate pirate with a mix of disgust, discomfort, and absolute disapproval. Even Drake brought a hand to her face as if she had just witnessed a shipwreck in slow motion.
"How horrible...!" murmured Mash, taking half a step back.
"That explains why his ship smells so weird," added Jeanne with a nervous tic in her brow.
Nero, arms crossed, looked at Leonel and said in a grave tone:
"My emperor... never allow yourself to get near that creature. He has a gaze not even the tigers in my coliseums had."
Tamamo, notably irritated, extended a talisman with a sweet smile that fooled no one.
"If you give me permission, husband, I can purify him of... everything."
Leonel, trying to maintain composure while suppressing nausea, cleared his throat.
"I'm surprised the Holy Grail brought someone like you... but then again, it makes sense. Nothing says chaos like you."
Blackbeard, oblivious to the collective contempt, raised his arms as if he were a rock star.
"Exactly! I am Chaos! The True Swordsman of Impossible Love! The Great Loli Fan who crossed the seven seas searching for his happiness! Blackbeard, the Supreme Degenerate Pirate!"
Drake, already red with rage, drew her pistol and aimed without hesitation.
"Give me a reason... just one reason, Edward, and I'll wipe that idiot smile off your face."
Blackbeard, as if nothing had happened, let out a dramatic shriek and hid behind his own ship's railing, peeking through a crack with sparkling eyes.
"Uwah~! I love it when you get rough! Tsundere goddess level!"
Leonel sighed heavily.
"And to think this guy has a Servant-rank... the Grail really has no standards."
Tezcatlipoca murmured in his mind:
"This man is a cultural malformation. The most dangerous thing isn't his power, but what he says."
The atmosphere grew tense to the breaking point.
Blackbeard, seeing that neither Drake nor Leonel yielded to his "wonderful" peace offers (which included turning everyone into part of his idol crew), snapped his fingers dramatically and yelled:
"Alright then, if you don't want an exclusivity contract, then... let's fight! Crew, prepare to board! And you, my precious, muscular servants, it's showtime!"
From his ship emerged three distinct figures:
Anne Bonny and Mary Read, both sharing the same Spirit Origin, mounted together on a modified pirate cannon, with an aura of unbreakable synchronicity.
Anne had a seductive smile and a pistol in each hand. Her mature, elegant body contrasted with Mary's, who was small, with a childlike build, and holding a sword larger than herself.
"Ready, Mary."
"Of course, Anne! Let's finish this quickly!"
Blackbeard blew an exaggerated kiss at Mary.
"My sweet deadly angel, shatter their hearts~!"
Then he turned to Anne and made a face of annoyance.
"And you... try not to ruin it."
Anne frowned and showed him her middle finger without losing her smile.
"With pleasure."
Then came the war cry of the Berserker, Eric Bloodaxe, a muscular giant with a blood-stained axe that made the deck tremble with each step.
"BLOOD!!!"
"God, another one with a maximum volume complex," said Nero, rolling her eyes.
Finally, calmly, the Lancer Hektor appeared, raising an eyebrow and sighing.
"Are we really doing this again? I'm too old for these displays..."
Drake stepped forward, drawing her twin pistols.
"To your stations! Cannons, covering fire! And you, Leonel, do your thing with the magic!"
Leonel, in the rear along with Mash and Tamamo, activated the mental communication with Tezcatlipoca.
"Tezcatlipoca, I need all the information you can give me about their formations and weaknesses!"
"Already done, boy. Anne and Mary have weak points when separated, Eric goes into a frenzy if he deals a lot of damage but loses tactical vision, and Hektor is slow but unstoppable if not blocked properly. Blackbeard... well, his weak point is his own ego."
Leonel activated the magical mental channel with everyone on offense.
"Artoria, go for Bloodaxe. Nero, cover Jeanne in her charge against Hektor. Jeanne, hold the line. Don't let Anne and Mary separate too much. Tamamo, reinforce Jeanne and Artoria first. Mash, stay with me. Let's go!"
Nero unsheathed her sword with a triumphant laugh.
"Time for the imperial spectacle!"
Artoria nodded seriously, running with her sword held high as she jumped onto the enemy ship.
Jeanne prayed for a moment before charging forward, her banner waving strongly.
Tamamo, with several talismans in hand, whispered incantations.
"Divine reinforcement, anti-magic barrier, and... a caress for the handsomest husband!" she shouted, throwing a magical blessing at Leonel in the shape of a pink heart that surrounded him with a light protective breeze.
Leonel blushed.
"Tamamo, focus!"
"I'm extremely focused, husband~!"
Mash, for her part, kept her shield firm, blocking any gunfire or pirate that approached Leonel.
The clash of swords, shouts, and cannons was deafening. The sea roared, splashing the decks as both ships were joined in a brutal battle.
Drake, ignoring the other conflicts, walked straight towards Blackbeard, her steps firm.
"It's time to settle accounts, Edward."
"So soon?! I haven't even introduced my waifu number five!"
Without another word, Drake fired, forcing Blackbeard to take shelter behind a torn sail.
The hail of bullets opened the scene. Anne Bonny and Mary Read's pistols fired relentlessly as they laughed in sync. However, Jeanne d'Arc raised her banner just in time.
"Luminosité Eternelle!" she shouted with determination.
A bright barrier deployed in the air like a sacred dome, stopping each bullet with a celestial metallic sound. Still, the pressure of the crossfire didn't relent.
"Now, Nero!" shouted Jeanne.
Nero Claudius roared with her typical theatrical passion, running like a lioness towards the gunwomen. However, a spear crossed the air, forcing her to retreat. Standing in her way was Hektor, of the Lancer class.
"You must be the 'Emperor'. I'm afraid I won't let you go any further, young lady," said Hektor, spinning his spear with millimeter precision.
"How rude! I'm an empress! And I won't accept anything less than respect and admiration!" Nero retorted, launching a slash that Hektor deflected without even moving from his spot.
On the other side, Artoria Pendragon advanced without hesitation, only to be met with a savage roar that shook the wood.
"BLOOOOOD!!!"
Eric Bloodaxe, his body covered in runes and scars, raised his colossal axe and swung it in a brutal vertical strike.
Artoria barely managed to dodge it, the blow destroying part of the mast behind her.
"A Berserker, huh... I'll have to be precise."
Nero attacked with grace and elegance, her Aestus Estus glowing with each slash. But Hektor, though with a look of 'this is a bother,' responded like a true veteran.
"Your style is beautiful, but it has too many openings," he commented, deflecting another blow and counterattacking with a low spin.
"Insolent! My movements are art! You wouldn't understand, old man!" Nero yelled, jumping back with a flip.
Hektor sighed.
"Why do all the enemies today have so much energy...? My back is going to kill me tomorrow..."
Even so, the exchange was intense: fire and edge against spear and experience.
Jeanne spun her banner like a mill of justice, stopping every shot from Anne Bonny, while Mary ran along the flanks like a devilish child.
"Come on, little sister! Let's see how much the saint can resist!"
"She's not a saint, she's annoying!" Anne growled, reloading angrily.
Jeanne, though on the defensive, didn't yield.
"I won't fight to kill! But I won't let you pass!"
A shot hit her shoulder, but Jeanne resisted firmly, launching a push with her banner that forced both gunwomen to separate.
Mary, in her small form, threw an improvised grenade. Jeanne barely managed to jump in time, but was left exposed.
"Now!" both sisters shouted at once.
The most brutal battle was undoubtedly Artoria's and Eric's.
The Berserker struck with brute force, each attack like the blow of a catapult. But Artoria, using her speed and technique, stayed on the edge of danger.
"You... don't... understand... the glory... of battle!" Eric growled, each word between roars.
"No. But I understand duty," Artoria responded, her Excalibur roaring with each clash.
Finally, Eric managed to catch her in a body-to-body charge, throwing her against the railing. The impact cut her lip and left her dazed.
But Artoria stood up.
"I... am the sword of victory. I won't lose here!"
She gripped her sword with both hands. The light of Excalibur began to glow.
Meanwhile, on Drake's ship, Leonel and Tamamo continued to support with magical information.
"Leonel, the gunwomen lose synchronicity when Mary separates!"
"Thanks, Tezcatlipoca! Jeanne, separate them and attack Mary first!"
"Nero, don't try to beat Hektor with strength, make him dance instead!"
"Artoria, Eric's neck is covered by his own axe, aim for his legs first!"
Tamamo, channeling magic from afar, cast a reinforcement spell on Artoria.
"Cheer up, dear! Let your favorite little fox give you a bit of magical power!"
"Tamamo! Focus!" Leonel shouted, desperate.
"I am focused~!" she responded with a coquettish wink.
"It's nothing personal, Empress," said Hektor, spinning his spear with almost bored precision. "I just want to finish this quickly and go back to my nap."
"Insolent! Saying that to an empress who deigns to fight you is unforgivable!" bellowed Nero Claudius, her Aestus Estus burning in her hands like a sunset sun.
Nero launched a thrust at Hektor's throat, followed by an upward slash. But Hektor... was no longer there. His spear intercepted the blow effortlessly, his foot turned in a lazy but calculated move, and he slid to the side.
"Too much momentum. You leave your left flank open. You'll get hurt," he commented without emotion.
"We'll see, fourth-rate strategist old man!"
Another assault. Then another. And another. Nero attacked from unexpected angles, with rhythm changes and feints. But Hektor's spear was like an invisible wall. Every strike found a defense, every Nero move was read and countered as if the veteran knew what she would do before she herself did.
From Drake's ship, Leonel watched, frustrated.
"How can he block everything?! It's like fighting the sea itself... there's no opening!"
"He has the aura of a defender of civilizations," Tezcatlipoca commented from Leonel's mind. "He protected Troy to the end. You're not fighting a man, you're fighting the last wall of a lost world."
Leonel closed his eyes, focused.
"Then we need something he can't calculate... something only Nero can do."
He communicated with her:
"Nero! Don't think like an empress. Think like an artist. Fight as if you were going to leave a masterpiece on this ship."
"Oh, Leonel! Your words fill me with inspiration!" Nero shouted with renewed brightness in her eyes. "Today this empress will show her best performance!"
Nero took a step back. She took a second. Breathed. Her gaze became more serene, more controlled. She was no longer just the passionate woman fighting for love or ego. She was an artist on stage.
"Aestus Domus Aurea... not yet! But this stage is mine, and this is my audience!"
Hektor frowned.
"What is this woman plotting...?"
Nero's next offense wasn't brutal or fast. It was beautiful.
Strokes of steel, elegant steps, dodges that seemed part of a war ballet. Hektor, for the first time, didn't clearly see the pattern. His defense began to fracture slightly. Not from mistakes, but because art doesn't follow logic, and Nero's instinct shone brightly.
"Here I go!" Nero shouted, lunging from the right, only to stop abruptly and spin from the left, like a brush creating an unexpected curve.
Hektor raised his spear, but not in time.
A cut grazed his cheek. Blood.
"...You wounded me?" he said, surprised, bringing a hand to his face.
"Your wall was brought down by the passion of an empress! Admit your defeat with dignity, Hector of Troy!"
Hektor smiled, for the first time genuinely.
"Heh... wow. You're more dangerous than you appear... I surrender. I don't want to die here. I like you, in the end."
Nero lowered her sword, breathing heavily, but her expression was victorious, radiant.
From a distance, Leonel applauded with a smile.
"You did amazing, Nero..."
"Thank you, my emperor! A glorious performance only deserves a worthy ending!" she shouted, sending a dramatic kiss to Leonel from the enemy deck.
The creaking of wood under Artoria's steel boots was barely audible against the infernal roar of Eric Bloodaxe, who leapt at her with his axe raised as if to split the world in two.
"GRRRAAAAHHH!!!" he roared with inhuman madness, his eyes overflowing with Berserker fire.
Artoria raised her sword with both hands, receiving the impact with a solid defense, but the blow was so brutal it forced her back several meters, leaving deep marks in the ship's wood.
"He's stronger than he looks..." she said through gritted teeth, her voice firm but tense.
Eric didn't stop. Like a storm of violence, he struck with giant axe blows, without rhythm or logic, but with a brutality that could crush anyone.
Artoria dodged, blocked, retreated. But each impact shook her arm, each defense pushed her closer to the edge of the ship.
From the rear, Leonel analyzed Eric's erratic pattern.
"There's no strategy... but there are patterns! Tezcatlipoca, help me isolate them!"
"Done. The second attack after each roar leaves the right side of his back open. Artoria can use that."
"Artoria, when you hear him roar twice, attack his right side after the second axe strike! That's your opening!"
Artoria, mid-movement, received the instruction through her communicator. She nodded silently.
"Thank you, Leonel..." she murmured.
Eric roared again, this time louder, more erratic. The first blow fell vertically, and the second was a cross slash. Just as Leonel predicted!
Artoria turned with grace and determination, Excalibur glowing with a faint gold as it caught the light from the combat flames. She slid under the axe and delivered a precise cut to Eric's side, creating a deep wound.
The Berserker screamed in fury, spinning in an attempt to crush her, but Artoria retreated gracefully, her breathing controlled.
"No matter how strong you are... your fury won't eclipse my duty," she said solemnly.
The fight continued. Wound after wound, Eric remained standing like an irate colossus. But the constant instructions from Leonel, guided by Tezcatlipoca, allowed Artoria to advance, step by step.
Until...
"GRRRAAAAAA-!!"
That roar, stronger than all others. An axe raised with the intention to end it all. A fatal opening.
"Now!" Leonel shouted.
Artoria jumped, enveloping her sword in holy light, and with a cry that resonated with knightly power, descended:
"EXCALIBUR!"
The blow pierced Eric's torso in a perfect arc, throwing him backward, where he finally fell with a crash of flesh and iron. The Berserker had been defeated.
Leonel, relieved, sighed as the connection stabilized.
"Good work, Artoria... that was an incredible battle. I'm proud of you."
Artoria, still breathing heavily, looked in the direction of Leonel's ship, where he was watching her. For a moment, her heart, normally firm as a rock, gave a subtle flutter.
"Th-Thank you... Leonel," she said in a low voice, barely audible to herself. "It's not the time for distractions... but... thank you."
The blush on her cheeks lasted only an instant before she returned to her knightly posture, ready to keep fighting.
Jeanne ran, shield in hand, trying to close the distance. But a burst of bullets fired by Anne Bonny forced her to take cover.
"What's wrong, saint? Can't you fly?" Anne shouted with an arrogant smile, firing her baroque-designed musket.
From a nearby tower, Mary Read, small and agile, aimed with a precision unexpected for her stature. Fire came from two different angles. A perfect trap to immobilize.
"You won't make it easy for me!" murmured Jeanne, her body covered in scratches, her clothes torn by the crossfire.
She couldn't advance without being hit. She couldn't retreat without exposing herself. She was trapped.
"Leonel," Tezcatlipoca said with an intense voice, "this crossfire formation only has one weakness: a blind spot from the area of the empty barrels, east of Jeanne."
"But that's out in the open! If she runs there without protection, she'll be an easy target," Leonel replied.
"Yes... unless you trust in her. And in yourself."
Leonel swallowed, then took a deep breath.
"Then it's time to bet heavily."
He activated the communicator.
"Jeanne, I have a plan... but you need to believe in me more than ever. It's dangerous. If we fail, you'll get hit."
There was silence for a second. Then, the saint's determined voice responded.
"Leonel... I trust you. Tell me."
"You're going to run into the open. Dodge to the right in a zigzag. Mary will shoot first, from her tower. That bullet is charged with magic. Then, Anne will have a 1.2-second delay. Right then, dive for the barrels. From there, you'll roll to the main rope. The rope is taut: it's your approach line. Run along it and jump onto it!"
"...That sounds impossible."
"For anyone, except you."
Jeanne smiled.
"Understood."
Jeanne ran. Bullets flew. Mary shot first, with a bullet so powerful it split a crate behind Jeanne.
Jeanne zigzagged with light steps, her shield blocking one of the bullets she couldn't avoid.
"Now!" Leonel shouted.
She threw herself sideways, rolled towards the barrels, then pushed off with her left leg. Her fingers grabbed the main rope connecting the ship's masts.
Like a divine acrobat, she ran along the rope, enemy fire passing beneath her like a metallic storm.
"What-?!" Anne shouted, with no time to turn.
Jeanne yelled:
"My sword is the will of heaven!"
She jumped from the rope, falling onto Anne Bonny with the spear of her banner, striking and disarming her with a single clean attack.
Mary tried to fire from her tower, but Jeanne already knew. She spun around, threw the pole of her flag like a javelin, and destroyed the barrel of Mary's weapon.
"Ah...!" the small one exclaimed, falling from her position, defeated but alive.
Jeanne, breathing heavily, stood up, covered in dust and blood, but with the banner still in hand.
Leonel, from the ship, smiled with pride.
"You did it... I told you you'd succeed."
Jeanne closed her eyes, letting the sea wind wash over her.
"And you made me believe it."
The fight between Francis Drake and Edward Teach, alias Blackbeard, was fierce and loud. The clashing of their swords filled the air, each strike produced sparks, and each thrust could be the last.
"You're too slow, sea witch! This ship will be mine!" growled Blackbeard, pushing with brute force.
Drake responded with a confident smile.
"Dirty old man... You should worry more about your feet."
Blackbeard didn't notice, but Drake had redirected the fight towards an area of loose ropes and scattered objects. In a moment of carelessness, he slipped slightly, just half a second... enough.
"Now!" Drake shouted.
With an elegant spin, her sword struck Blackbeard's abdomen directly, a critical blow that made him spit blood instantly. Drake's crew cheered, while Blackbeard's minions watched in horror.
Teach fell to his knees, gasping.
"Damn... you..."
Drake lowered her guard, her breathing ragged. She approached slowly, intending to end the duel or perhaps interrogate him.
But at that instant, as no one expected, Hektor appeared behind Blackbeard.
"I'm sorry... old man," Hektor said in his weary voice, but with a serious, determined gaze.
His spear pierced Teach's body from side to side.
Blackbeard's eyes opened wide, gasping for air.
"You... too...?! Damned traitor..."
He fell forward, dead instantly.
Drake stepped back, surprised and confused.
"Hektor... what are you-?!"
Hektor didn't respond. With calculated movements, he crouched and pulled an object wrapped in golden magic from Teach's belt: the Holy Grail.
"He was a nuisance to keep alive. And you all are too slow," he said, looking directly at Leonel, who had just arrived on deck along with Mash and Tamamo.
Leonel stood paralyzed. The shock of the moment, seeing the Grail, his objective, his mission... fall into the enemy's hands, left him speechless. Tamamo held his arm, worried, while Mash tensed ready to attack, but it was too late.
A magic circle appeared under Hektor's feet, and his figure began to fade.
"We'll meet again soon," he said with a slight ironic smile, before disappearing with the Holy Grail.
Silence.
Only the sea and the unconscious or defeated bodies around them.
Drake, still surprised, sheathed her sword.
"Damn... I never thought he'd be the traitor. That old man always seemed so lazy!!"
Leonel lowered his head, clenching his fists.
"It was snatched from us... again..."
Jeanne approached and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We did the best we could... But this isn't over."
Mash nodded firmly.
"We can still catch up to him."
Tamamo, calmer, hugged Leonel's arm.
"It's not the end, my beloved. This story still has many pages to be written."