"It's over."
Pariston's corpse lay quietly on the deck, devoid of life.
His two accompanying bodyguards, Clark and Gol, were washed to the surface by the waves. A few sharks, smelling the scent of blood, quietly approached.
Kate stood atop the mast, witnessing the entire scene, her gaze fixed on the boy's not particularly tall back. Roy, sensing something, looked back at her briefly, then sheathed his sword.
"Young master, how should we deal with him?" Wutong glanced at Pariston, took a deep breath, and returned.
In his view, offending the young master deserved being tossed into the sea with his two bodyguards to feed the fish.
Roy remained silent, receiving a panel notification... Both Clark and Gol, after death, provided him with eight or nine points of "Life Energy," but Pariston—
No soul appeared.
It was certain that the sword he had just thrust had indeed pierced Pariston's heart,
and as his eyes witnessed, Pariston lay quietly at his feet, breathless....
Everything seemed very reasonable,
However, when Roy realized something was wrong, squatted down, and inspected Pariston's body, he had no idea that as soon as he touched Pariston's neck artery,
the vibrant person suddenly deflated, turning into a pile of mud, dispersed by the sea breeze into the world....
[Vows and Constraints]
[Dying for the King, reviving by permanently consuming a chess piece]
The capital of the Kakin Empire, Spanto.
Adjacent to the power center controlled by the Huguo family—the southern end of the King's Palace's Tulip Street, stood a luxurious manor.
The manor was very grand, with towering spires... vintage window lattice, paired with a meticulously maintained garden by dozens of gardeners, every carving exuded noble elegance and luxurious aura....
At that moment, in front of a large French window on the second floor, an "old" man and a youth were drinking tea and playing a game.
The "old" man, around fifty, with long hair tied up with a hairpin, had rugged features, with a dense black beard that made him faintly resemble Netero. But in terms of physique... he was much more robust.
"I warned you long ago, if you wish to manifest a true dragon, you should not limit yourself to this world, you should follow me to the real continent to see...."
With a "snap~", a black knight was mercilessly captured by the man on the chessboard.
The youth opposite, visibly blushing with a sickly flush, opened his mouth, and spat out fresh blood... staining the black and white chessboard.
Pariston drew a handkerchief from his chest pocket, leisurely wiped the corner of his mouth, then reached for his chest. That piercing pain was real, momentarily seemingly dragging him back to the sea, reliving it once again.
"Roy Zoldyck... truly a fearsome person...."
"Who?"
"Roy Zoldyck...."
"...."
The man hesitated, tossed the chess piece in his hand with a cruel laugh: "I say, it's just an exam, considering your level, you wouldn't normally fail it."
But,
"If it's a Zoldyck, then it makes sense...."
Beyond stood at the French window, hands behind his back, his gaze passing over the garden, over the King's Palace, cast towards the dock, where a massive ship was being enthusiastically constructed, just named "Black Whale" by him a couple of days ago.
His thoughts drifted back to a brief "encounter" with that silver-haired man recently,
the other party responded indifferently, outright refusing his proposal to request his father to lift the constraints...
Even a hundred billion Jenny couldn't sway him, proving how stubborn the other party could be! (Note: Netero had vowed that as long as he lived, he wouldn't allow Beyond to set foot on the Dark Continent. This was one reason Beyond and Pariston conspired to get rid of the old man.)
Pariston wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and squinted with a smile...
"People... must experience the real thing, as you told me."
Just like Beyond said he must see a true dragon to manifest one... The youth toyed with the blood-stained "dragon" chess piece on the board, and muttered: "This isn't over. Once I find a real dragon, I'll properly settle accounts with him."
To enjoy the pleasure that comes from others' hatred, one must first learn to hate others. Beyond glanced at him, the youth finally entered the entry level.
"Take your time... take your time... don't be hasty..." He said to the youth.
For years, this has been his daily reminder to himself, and he looked back at the King's Palace, the layout had already been subtly initiated....
....
On the "Sea God".
Wutong watched as Pariston's body turned into a pile of mud, also noticed something was amiss.
He imitated Roy, squatted down, and touched the mud that Pariston's body had turned into, sniffing it at his nose, he said: "It's 'molded' red clay."
The young butler wasn't born into the Zoldyck Family; he played with clay often as a child, and deduced with a furrowed brow: "The body turning into mud suggests that the blond youth standing here wasn't the real person, but a substitute made from fired red clay."
Recalling... the chessboard... the chess piece... the truth gradually surfaced...
"That Pariston probably isn't dead..."
Wutong cautiously said,
Roy stood up, grabbed the branch temporarily wedged in the deck crack by Wutong, and silently walked towards the bow of the ship, continuing to fish to hone his nenryoku.
In his heart, he understood,
alive or not mattered little now, under the sun, there's nothing new, as long as power exists, all schemes will eventually dissipate into nothing....
"At worst, just kill again."
"Yes." Wutong composed himself, followed to the bow, and turned his back to the youth, continuing to guard his back.
As nightfall approached, the last ray of sunset faded, and a moon quietly arose over the horizon, casting its glow upon the "Sea God," draping it in a layer of moonlight sheen.
One by one, people awoke from unconsciousness, without exception... they immediately looked towards the battlefield.
The cracked deck lay in chaos, no sign of Pariston, Clark, or Gol was evident, only the old captain waking Gus and a few crew members, picking up tools in despair and repairing the ship, and... like a rock, the youth sat at the bow fishing, seemingly not the feared swordsman from before....
"Ah—"
A scream erupted...
Moments later, the killing resumed!
People now remembered, the points battle was far from over, commencing a new round of contest, but all kept far away from the bow, forming an unspoken concord, granting Kurajing a moment to breathe.
The girl sat cross-legged beside Wutong, tearing her sleeve to bandage her wound, staunching the blood, and from her pocket, she pulled out a bank card, handing it to Wutong, subtly glancing at Roy: "This is my savings over the years, please accept it."
Kurajing had an eye for people,
Unfortunately....
"Your clan, aside from the eyes, nothing else is of value...."
?!
Kurajing: "..."
Her head shot up, eyes black as ink, her emotions causing intense fluctuations, subtly indicating a shift towards fiery red!