How long have I been asleep? I thought.
My entire body was in absolute, agonizing pain. I slowly fluttered my eyes open, staring blankly at an unfamiliar wooden ceiling. I tried to lift my hand to brush a stray strand of hair out of my eyes, but my muscles completely refused to respond. It felt like my limbs were made of lead.
I was completely out of Ether again. This is going to be a massive problem, I groaned internally. Well, at least I managed to kill three high-ranking pirates basically by myself and almost beat the fourth to death, so I'll count that as a success. Then, a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Shit. I also almost screamed my Sin out loud to the entire room.
Wait. Where was Isaac?
I painfully rolled my head to the left. Nothing. I rolled my head to the right.
Sitting in a plush armchair next to my bed was Isaac. His entire body was wrapped up like a mummy in thick white bandages, yet he was casually kicking his feet and reading a paperback book as if he were on vacation.
He noticed me moving and lowered the book. "Oh, you're awake! That was a hell of a fight, right?"
I didn't say anything. I honestly didn't have the energy to speak, nor did I want to encourage him.
"By the way, your two insanely strong friends saved us," Isaac continued casually. "They brought us back here to the hotel. Oh, and they brought the red-haired guy, too."
Wait, what do you mean they brought the red-haired guy?! I knew Sera was the one who chopped the back of my neck, but why would they spare the pirate captain?
"It seems they need to have a serious conversation with him," Isaac said, pointing across the room. "Look over there. They strung him up on the wall."
I forced my neck to turn forward. Sure enough, the red-haired pirate captain was securely bound to the wall with thick, glowing ropes. His face was a swollen, bloody mess from the brutal beatdown Isaac and I had given him in our Fight.
"Serves him right," Isaac muttered, though he quickly pouted. "Sigh. But now we can't hand him in to get our bounty money. Such a waste, man."
Before I could respond, the heavy wooden door to the hotel room creaked open. Arthur and Sera stepped inside, looking completely pristine and well-rested.
"Are you okay, Lucian?" Sera asked, his amber eyes scanning my battered state.
I gave a weak, stiff nod. Then, I forced my dry throat to work. "Why weren't you guys there to help?"
"Well, because you needed the combat experience," Sera said smoothly, flashing a flawless smile. "So, we simply left the arena and went to a nice restaurant."
Hah? A restaurant?! I stared at the Angel in utter disbelief. Whatever.
Arthur pulled up a wooden chair, his massive frame dwarfing the furniture as he sat down beside my bed. "The better question is, why were you there?"
"I was just going on a bounty hunt to earn some pounds," I explained, my voice raspy. "I met Isaac after killing a crew of four pirates, and we had to run from the authorities. And before you judge me, they were evil, child-murdering scum. It just so happened that we were tracking a target to the exact same underground market."
"Ah. I see," Arthur rumbled thoughtfully. "Well, we were there because something massive happened. The artifact we came to this island to retrieve was stolen by a Devil residing in Blackwater Roost."
"Hah?" My eyes widened. "What?"
"Yes. And the Ether signature we were tracking happened to lead directly into that underground market," Sera added.
I quickly connected the dots. "So... the massive batch of human hearts and the four Elven slaves the pirate captain was trying to steal... they were meant as ritual sacrifices for that Devil?"
"..." Sera and Arthur exchanged a quiet look. They hadn't actually known that the red-haired pirate was there specifically for slaves and hearts. They had only been following the raw Ether trail.
"Well, let's just ask him directly," Arthur grunted, standing up and pointing at the battered pirate captain pinned to the wall. He walked over, his massive shadow falling over the captive.
"What were you doing down there? And why are you following a Devil?" Arthur demanded.
"Mmph... mmmggh... sddfgh," the captain muffled, squirming desperately against the ropes. He couldn't speak because a thick cloth was shoved tightly into his mouth.
"Speak, man!" Isaac yelled from his chair.
Well, he physically can't, Isaac, you idiot, I thought, mentally facepalming.
Arthur sighed, reaching out and yanking the blood-soaked gag out of the pirate's mouth. "Speak," the Grandmaster ordered.
In that exact instant, Arthur released his Draconic Aura.
He didn't unleash it fully, but even a fraction of a Tier 5 Dragon's presence was apocalyptic. The ambient light in the hotel room violently shifted, bathing the walls in a heavy, oppressive crimson glow. The sheer, suffocating weight of a true apex predator slammed into the room, crushing the oxygen out of the air.
The red-haired captain's eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body convulsing as the pure terror of the Dragon almost made him lose consciousness on the spot.
"Stop, Art! He's going to lose consciousness before he can say a word," I yelled, my voice still raspy from the fight.
Arthur pulled back, and the heavy, red-tinted pressure in the room vanished. The air felt thin again. "Now, speak," Arthur commanded, his eyes cold.
"I... I was just following orders from that thing," the captain wheezed, his voice barely a whisper.
"Orders?" Arthur prompted.
Sera stepped closer, a polite but terrifying smile on his face. "You should be very careful with your choice of words, Captain. I'd describe your current situation as... well, completely and utterly fucked."
Isaac, sitting in his bandages, chuckled and pointed a finger at the pirate. "He's right, you know. Even if you tried to run, you've only got one leg. And even if you managed that, you've got a Hunter from a War sub-pathway, well sera, Arthur, and..." He glanced at me. "...and whatever terrifying thing Luci here is. You aren't getting away."
"Hehe," I let out a dry laugh. It felt good to have Isaac back me up, even if he was just repeating what I was thinking.
The captain began to sweat profusely, his eyes darting between the monsters in the room. "Please... can I have some water? My throat is... like sandpaper."
Sera tilted his head and, surprisingly, went to fetch a glass. He helped the captain drink it, his movements elegant and calm. It was a bizarre, sad sight.
"Five years ago," the captain started, his voice a bit clearer now. "A Devil arrived on this island. At first, it was just a mindless beast, a disaster that killed hundreds. But as you know, Devils feed on commotion, hatred, and killing. When it gorged itself on enough of that despair, it began to metamorphose. It became sentient. It started to think. To talk."
I listened intently. A sentient Devil was rare; a Devil that could plan was a nightmare.
"Now, it wants to advance through the Tiers," the captain continued. "It wants real power, a permanent anchor in this world. So, it made a pact with one of the Pirate Admirals. That Admiral is the one providing the protection, the organization, and the ritual components."
"What kind of ritual requires human hearts and slaves?" Arthur demanded, his hand gripping the back of the chair so hard the wood groaned.
"The island... it's a facade," the captain rasped. "The Devil needed the city to look normal, to look prosperous, so it could draw in more people. More 'food.' Deep down, this entire island is just a banquet for him. We pirates? We're just the waiters. We follow the Devil pathway because the weak either get devoured or they join the feast."
The pieces were finally falling into place. "And the commotion tonight?" I asked. "The ritual?"
"The ritual is large-scale," the captain explained. "The Devil needs to consume the hearts while a massive wave of panic and death is happening—it amplifies the Ether. But even with the hearts and the slaves, he didn't have enough raw energy to bridge the gap between concept and reality. That's why the Admiral stole the Stele. It's an artifact of the Old World, a massive battery of Ether. With that Stele, he won't just be a sentient Devil anymore—he'll be a god of this island."
The room went silent. The Stele wasn't just a prize; it was the final key to an ascension ritual that would turn Blackwater Roost into a literal hell on earth.
"This is a lot more troublesome than I thought," I muttered, looking at my bandaged hands.
"I have a question," I cut in, my voice straining against the fatigue. "If he arrived five years ago, why wait until now? He could have gathered the hearts and slaves and finished this ritual years ago."
The captain shook his head weakly. "It isn't that simple. It took him two years just to achieve sentience. During that time, the Pirate Admiral was his protector, using his influence to hide the Devil from the authorities and spreading the lie that this island was a 'safe haven.' If the people suspected a monster was feeding on them, they would have fled, and the banquet would have ended."
He coughed, a spray of dark blood hitting the floor. "And most importantly... he didn't have the Stele. Without that artifact, the ritual was impossible. Now he has everything—or he did."
"But?" Arthur prompted, his eyes narrowing.
"But you two..." The captain looked at me and Isaac with a mix of fear and grudging respect. "You destroyed the underground market. The commotion you caused allowed the slaves to escape. The only thing he has left are the hearts."
"So we threw a wrench in his gears," Isaac chirped, though he looked pained as he leaned back.
"More than that," the captain rasped. "Now that his perfect plan has failed, he won't hide in the shadows anymore. He's going to come out himself. He's hungry, he's powerful, and he's furious."
"One more thing," I said, trying to piece together the power balance of this island. "Why didn't the Seven Pirate Kings interfere? This is their territory, isn't it?"
"They aren't here," the captain replied. "None of them. They are all out in the Vast Sea, either hunting each other or searching for the 'Ultimate Treasure.' They haven't set foot on Blackwater Roost in months. The Admiral was left in charge of the 'trash' left behind."
That explains why a Tier 4 pirate thought he could play God, I thought. The real monsters are away at sea.
The captain opened his mouth to say more, his eyes widening as if he'd just remembered a final, crucial detail. "Wait, you need to know about the Admiral's—"
CRACK.
The hotel window shattered.
A high-velocity projectile tore through the air, entering the captain's temple and exiting the other side in a spray of grey matter and crimson. He didn't even have time to scream. His head snapped back against the wall, and his body went limp in the ropes.
Arthur was a blur of motion. He lunged toward the window, his hand shattering the remaining glass as he peered into the dark, rainy night.
"Sigh," I exhaled, the adrenaline spike making my injuries throb. "So much for a quiet interrogation."
Arthur pulled back from the window, his face grim. "I saw a silhouette. Someone fast—Tier 4 or higher. They're moving toward the cathedral."
"He was silenced," Sera noted, his voice calm but his eyes sharp. "The Admiral or the Devil realized he was talking."
Arthur turned back to us, his Draconic Aura flickering with irritation. "We missed the details of the 'commotion' he was planning. Now that we've ruined his ritual, he isn't going to play by the rules. He's going to turn this entire island into a slaughterhouse to make up for the commotion that he was planning."