The archer who had been firing arrows at the pirate ship earlier had come aboard at some point. He took aim at Sigurd, who was standing apart from everyone in a very conspicuous attempt to look cool, and loosed an arrow.
Fortunately, this cheap ship lacked sonic cancellation walls, and Sigurd, already on guard after Ed's warning, somehow managed to swat the arrow shaft aside with his sailor's knife on pure instinct.
Pirates, known for their madness and alliances based solely on benefit, reacted predictably. Seeing an arrow shot in his direction, Sigurd's opponent ignored him to identify the shooter as friend or foe. This carelessness, however, did not become a golden opportunity for Sigurd; he instantly dropped low and, with a powerful kick of his legs, lunged forward to thrust his knife directly into the enemy's stomach. He yanked it out violently and rolled away. Dark red blood and a small piece of an unknown organ spilled from the gruesome wound.
While Sigurd was having the time of his life, Ed saw another enemy arrow, this time aimed at himself, or more precisely, at the round window on the door, likely to break it and draw pirates toward the captain's room.
The arrow successfully shattered the window, a testament not to its quality but to the flimsy construction. As the archer had intended, the sound of breaking glass instantly attracted two pirates, who rushed toward the cabin.
Sigurd, like a wild boar, threw himself at one of them, fighting with frantic intensity to deal with him before the second pirate could break down the door.
Ed, who had moved aside in time and was unharmed, looked out to see a hideous, middle-aged pirate with a dangerously receding hairline and a face so dirty it seemed unwashed for years, despite being surrounded by unimaginable amounts of water. The pirate was madly hacking his sword against the door.
However, Ed wasn't the only one who could see through the hole; the pirate, busy trying to break in, finally got a chance to peer inside. He saw only the back of a head full of black hair.
Curious, he cautiously leaned closer, a lewd smile spreading across his face. He had likely mistaken Ed for a woman. For pirates who spent half their lives at sea, the sight of a woman was rarer than a bag of gold. His brain, therefore, twisted the evidence toward his most desperate hope; from his perspective, if all the men were fighting bravely, only a woman would hide in the cabin.
His wish to see a beautiful girl did not come true, but his limited view of the cabin's interior made his blood boil with anticipation. He became even more convinced the person inside was a beautiful girl, reasoning that a man would have certainly attacked him when his face was so close to the hole, a golden opportunity.
Thus, surrendering his body's control to his "little brother," the pirate felt a surge of unimaginable power. His attacks on the door became twice as forceful, and within ten seconds, he had shattered the cheap latch. With a loud bang, he shoved the door open and hurriedly stepped inside.
The perverted pirate, with one hand already on his waistband, ready to pull his pants down and "devour" the girl before anyone else could steal her, failed to notice the figure standing beside the door.
Lost in his fantasy, the pirate hurried forward, assuming the girl would be hiding behind the large table in the middle of the cabin. He had taken only a few steps when a sharp, searing pain erupted from his chest. Looking down, he saw the tip of a long knife protruding from his sternum. Before he could make a sound, his mouth filled with hot blood, and he collapsed to the floor with a thud.
With his final breath, he never saw the face of that beautiful "girl."
Seeing the pirate was dead, Ed, whose hands were shaking as if he had touched a live electric wire, let out a sigh of relief and slumped to the floor. The energy from the apple had been completely spent in that single strike, and his poor stomach began groaning with painful urgency, especially as he saw the blood gushing from the dead pirate's mouth and his horrifically wide, lifeless eyes.
Ed hurriedly covered his mouth, fearing he would vomit to death if he didn't get out. After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he picked up the pirate's cheap long blade—his own knife was still embedded in the corpse, and he had no intention of retrieving it. Using the blade as a walking stick, he stumbled out. He decided not to stay inside because he could already hear cheers from his crewmates; the pirates' game was over, and they had won.
He had barely grabbed the doorframe and stepped out when Sigurd, like an angry bull, rushed toward the cabin and, without any surprise, collided hard with Ed, sending him stumbling back several meters.
F*ck! Bastard, what the hell are you doing!* Although Ed saw Sigurd and waved his hands to stop him, Sigurd's brain was clearly not in the right place, and he smashed into him anyway.
"Sorry, sorry! I didn't see you! Are you okay? Where's that pirate? I saw him go inside... Shit, how did you kill him? Aren't you sick?" After stabilizing himself, Sigurd hurried over to Ed, helping him up with a casual, insincere apology, and rapidly fired questions about the pirate. Halfway through, he noticed the dead body a few meters from the door and stared at Ed in shock.
He couldn't believe his eyes. The sickly guy he'd been looking after for days had actually killed a pirate without even dirtying his clothes. It was unbelievable. But Sigurd's mentality was strong; once he processed the fact, he gave Ed a thumbs-up and began eagerly harassing him for all the details of the fight. After all, this was Ed's first kill, a rare memory he could boast about back home.