Sea of Despair
Sea of Despair.
"So that's the legendary Triton of the Sea?"
Prince Castella asked if he could hold it just once, but I shook my head and politely declined. It was a gift from Circe, after all—no way was I handing it over to anyone. He nodded as if he understood completely, saying that even if someone begged him to let them try his cursed sword, he'd never give in. The more precious the item, the stronger the possessiveness, he added with a grin.
"You just seem so lackadaisical about everything! Hahaha!"
That was a new one. I'd been training on deck every day, after all.
Circe stood quietly by the railing, making sounds like she was calling something. I couldn't hear it—maybe it was beyond human ears—but she'd been at it for a full hour now. The crew hovered around her, stealing glances. Hiding her identity as the legendary sea witch Circe was pointless now, so we'd been upfront about it. She didn't seem to care anyway, and with Pirate King Hornigold gunning for us regardless, there was no reason to keep it secret.
The sailors were dying to know how I'd ended up as the companion of none other than Circe herself, peppering me with questions. I told them it was a precious story I couldn't share with just anyone. They took that as an invitation to spin their own wild tales of epic trials overcome in a romantic love story. "You think that's how it happened?" they'd whisper just loud enough for me to hear, watching my reaction.
—To those who lived on the sea, she was a being passed down through generations by word of mouth. Plenty believed she was immortal. They asked if she really was, what witches were like... I could only apologize, regretting that I couldn't satisfy their curiosity.
"Witches are beings who wander the seas, seducing pirates and men. And the legendary sea witch Circe, whom they serve... plus a human wielding the Triton of the Sea from legend. You wouldn't happen to be a hero, would you? Heh heh heh."
Prince Castella begged to hear my adventure tales someday, over drinks once we got closer. Maybe I'd tell him if we met again. He pledged his cooperation against the Pirate King, shaking my hand firmly. Even for Admiral Shark's sake, who was stuck saddled with a useless prince like him—if he returned home without achievements to report, his position would narrow, and the navy loyal to him might get discarded by the nobles like trash.
It was a pretty depressing reason, but he had no choice but to fight.
"I think the Pirate King being around is better, honestly. If he passed the torch slowly to the next generation, fine—but if the king ruling these seas suddenly dies? Like other nations, without an heir, goblins will rampage for the throne. Same here. The empire's nobles would kidnap islanders as slaves with their private armies, no problem. Then if pirates raid them, they'd blame the incompetent navy and demand compensation."
Either way, it was a bitter tale, the prince said. Even if they caught the Pirate King, they'd just be puppets to the empire's nobles, and the unhappy masses would only grow. It was an unavoidable fight, a necessary killing—but at best, it'd only buy a fleeting moment.
"He's had a whopping 50 years for that. Plus 10 more with the Investigator Pirates before that, hopping crews. The fame, charisma, and overwhelming power he's built over those years... Even Hornigold didn't become Pirate King overnight."
That throne was a poisoned chalice. Killing the Pirate King wouldn't make you king—you'd be hated as his slayer, targeted for revenge, reduced to a trophy for others' fame. You'd need massive forces, overwhelming naval command, leadership to inspire loyalty—just to inherit half the seat. It was a bomb that had to explode, with no way to defuse it.
And he'd only claimed the title in his old age. Without immortality, it was grueling.
"Then maybe you could become king of these seas?"
The companion of the sea witch, wielder of the Triton of the Sea, toppling the Pirate King crowned by the sea god. "That'd etch itself in history," he burst out laughing. If it happened, take him as a comrade and roam the seas together, he pleaded.
Regrettably, I had zero interest in being king of the seas.
"...Hey, king of the seas."
"No, I'm not."
Kidd boarded, bandages bloodied, clutching his broken harpoon. He glanced at Circe calling from the railing, then at the gleaming trident in my hand, sighing with a resigned smile.
"The Pirate King sees himself in me as his first mate, and some landlubber on the same ship has the Triton of the Sea... I feel like a total idiot."
"...Kidd."
"No pity needed. I'm not down. I want to be Pirate King. Getting hailed as sea king just for holding treasure? Not bad, but earning it through my own efforts? That's the best. The title means something only if I adventure for it."
"Don't worry," he said, asking if I was okay after getting kicked off. He unwound his bandages, showing a scar—wounds healing nicely. Of course, he bared his teeth with a growl: next fight, kill him for sure.
I'd worried he'd break, but his fighting spirit and ambition burned fiercer, like fresh fuel on flames.
"So, how do we kill that bastard? The trident didn't reach."
"...Beats me."
I explained the curse and fated doom Circe had passed on. Kidd scowled—vague stuff like that could kill him? "Needs a 'lethal blow,' right? Cripple him, sever tendons—not kill him?" Prince Castella suggested drowning and freezing with his cursed sword, but Kidd fretted if the Pirate King couldn't handle that.
"We might not even be in his league to begin with...?"
Hyacinth pointed out the worst: Riko kidnapped, used as hostage. We couldn't ignore our disadvantage. "Saving comrades is priority, but he'll still target Circe. Focus on rescuing Riko, not fighting the Pirate King. Radamu-hyung has to avoid him—deny he's around even if he is. Mortis said he won't kill Riko, but who knows. Stall: 'She's not here, can't give her up.'"
"Makes sense... So treating her as VIP in the Pirate Kingdom?"
"But we don't know where it is."
Unknown base, hostage held, fleet unbeatable?, no guarantee even if we breached. Fighting the Pirate King with one ship Circe summoned? Tricky enough, but with Holy Eagle Kingdom and elves? Empire navy wouldn't flip it.
"Empire ships are long past prime. Over half a century of patchwork. No fuel support now—just admiral's ship, max 7 if requested. Peak was 200... mostly smashed by Pirate King."
"Support takes time?"
"Gotta brief admiral post-join. Frame as 'all-out assault on Pirate King'—nobles might chip in. But with meetings and supplies? Minimum 4 months. Even 7 ships lack fuel; engines might stall mid-fight, praying for tailwinds."
Hyacinth rubbed his face at the prince's words, ears drooping from stress. We'd wasted a week with Radamu out—Riko likely VIP-prisoner in Pirate Kingdom, invincible fleet hunting us. Plus, per Mortis, they thought we'd nabbed a massive relic.
"Holy Eagle might've sent more warships... Know anything?"
"Steel battleships? Only 3, but that's 3 monstrous brutes."
"All of 'em?"
"Yep."
Prince Castella nodded with iron certainty at Kidd's words. If invincible fleet chased us, no defenses needed. Empire navy: joke. All Gods Temple: no navy. Trust Union: navy wrecked with kingdom by evil god. Holy Eagle tips scales—he'd bet his cursed sword.
His unflinching verdict darkened our faces.
"Dwarves slaved years for those 3... dumping 'em here."
Hero's divine armor unfound—total headache. Hyacinth pondered, then: only choice. Turned to Radamu.
"Find Hero's divine armor, Radamu-hyung. With it, at least..."
"We could fight?"
No other answer, he said, pointing at Triton of the Sea. Armor might handle recoil. Or let us tank hits against Pirate King. Might shield from elves too. Unrolled treasure map from captain.
Then shadows loomed overhead.
A massive light pillar pierced clouds, stabbing down.
Light exploded against magic barrier, arcing like fireworks into the sea. Amid crew's frantic shouts, Circe anxiously cried to the waves. Her voice not reaching? Some issue?
I raised Triton, slamming it on deck. Sea surged, dragging ship from shore into open water. Crew unfurled sails, scrambling. Island barely cleared—nightmare steel warship loomed, turning on us. Parallel, three triple-barreled turrets—six maws—swiveled our way.
"Radamu-hyung!"
Swinging Triton wide—BOOM! Sea split, warship cleaved in one strike, hulls tilting into chasm, sinking like pup in mud.
"Insane...!"
"Aft!!"
KABOOM—!! Neptune shuddered, listing dangerously. Prince's yell: incoming steel warship ramming. Bombardment shattered Circe's barrier, halving mast. Ship tilting, sinking fast. Pirates' screams from hold—Hyacinth dashed below to free them.
"Swing it!!!"
Kidd's desperate shout. But arm limp post-swing. Radamu zoned out, eyes glazed. Kidd reached for Triton—repelled by mana, smashing rail, tumbling to sea. Prince swooped, grabbing ankle, soaring up.
"Another! Tridant's holy power drawing pursuit?!"
Do-or-die: Neptune crunched under warship, crumpling. Crew dove overboard. Circe's magic couldn't slow it—clashing with holy power, canceling out.
In crisis, Radamu ignored mouth blood, scooped Circe, gripped Triton tight.
"ᚾᛟ!! ᛞᛟᚾ'ᛏ ᛞᛟ ᛏᚺᚨᛏ"
No strength for other skills; warship foe nullified Asrai Fading Star, Outer God Fear LV.2. Glow dino summon melted on holy contact. Touching now? Circe's frail body couldn't take it. Ignoring her scream not to overdo Triton—
Water pillar erupted, spiking warship skyward. Like volleyball spike, it flipped, holy shield shattering on sea—KABOOM!—sinking.
Regained balance, afloat—no flip, no sink. Holy Eagle's ship stunned us briefly. Triton failed to pierce? Sleek sub surfaced smooth. Six tentacles aft, side bay opened—high-pressure jets blasted warship into rocks.
"ᛗᚨᚱᛁᚾᛖᚱ ᚾᛟᚨᚺ ᚾᚨᛏᛁᛚᚢᛋ!"
Sunlight gleamed on the sub. Horn blared across waves in response to her call. Bow opened, sucking seawater and crew aboard. Mortis hauled navigator/captain; Hyacinth freed pirates, staggering to me and supporting Circe—leaped aboard.
KABOOM! All in—sub sealed, tentacles jetted water, accelerating, skipping surface like stone, vaulting blocking warship, soaring skyward, diving deep—vanished.
Priests/knights crowded warship rail, slack-jawed, eyes chasing vanishing shadow below waves. Helpless.