The Sea is Open to All
The sea is open to everyone. Pirate King Hornigold was dead. The end of the man who had pacified the oceans for half a century was utterly anticlimactic. It had been a fierce battle from sunrise until the sun reached its zenith, but he hadn't commanded his subordinates or his ship. He fought solely with his beloved weapon in hand, never yielding... holding back just enough to keep his foes alive.
This battle's outcome might have been predetermined, no matter how long it dragged on. Mortis gazed down at Hornigold's corpse with a bitter expression. Many had opposed the captain's decision to sail to the farthest ends of the sea. At first, it was just a few, but as the journey grew harsher, betrayals emerged. His longtime comrades stayed loyal, but those drawn by his fame and treasure formed their own factions. They believed Hornigold orchestrated it all, but looking back now, that wasn't his style. Still, Mortis couldn't say for sure if killing the captain had been the right choice. The man might have even thought dying at his first mate's hand was a fitting end.
After more than ten years together, realizing she still didn't know what he was thinking... Mortis felt a strange distance, unsure how to process her tangled emotions.
"..."
Could it have ended with words? She pondered it, but he hated backing down. His tone had made it clear: never forgive the one who kills me.
The [Crown of the Sea God] rolling on the deck returned to Circe's hands. That cursed treasure, worthless in any real sense. He'd fought countless battles to protect it, unable to discard it in a life where death was denied. His existence had been a breakwater. He'd built a life as a bulwark for one woman alone.
"What kind of king leaves a last will like that?"
Stay healthy. Ridiculous. It was enough to make nonexistent ailments sprout up; a sigh escaped her lips.
With everything over, Mortis stayed vigilant, combat-ready, wary of the pirates who'd killed her captain turning on them. Some might try to steal the treasure and flee. Holding her breath in alert tension, she saw Admiral Shark approach, dragging the swollen-faced Lemon Hyacinth—one-handed—in tow. He dropped Hyacinth unceremoniously to the deck. The boy groaned, sobbing that he'd been utterly thrashed.
"It's done? Looks like he died satisfied."
"...So, are you the king now?"
"As if."
A loud rumble from the sea drew their eyes. The Nautilus was surfacing. Riko had successfully escaped with Zan, and they'd been preparing to withdraw while awaiting the others. But now, it all seemed pointless. Radamu sat slumped, legs shattered and unable to stand; Prince Castella gripped his broken demon sword, gut pierced, catching his breath while receiving a potion from the admiral for treatment. Kid leaned on his harpoon like a cane, one eye regenerating as he stared at Hornigold's corpse.
If the pirates charged now, some of them would die for sure. Yet neither the pirates nor the kingdom's residents who had rushed out at the commotion made a move. They simply paid silent respects to the dead with solemn dignity. Their eyes longed to retrieve the body, but they waited.
"Cough, cough."
Turning at the hacking coughs, Riko staggered over, moaning he was dying, and hugged Circe from behind.
"Lady Circe, I was in so much pain... Eh? Are you crying?"
Only Circe could understand what he'd said to her at death's door. Radamu had heard too, but said nothing. No one had taught him the lost kingdom's ancient tongue; he'd pored over it alone night after night, self-taught for decades—a pursuit utterly meaningless and valueless. How much effort had he poured into speaking the same words as her upon reunion?
Mortis closed her eyes. To them, he'd been a navigator charting courses to unknown shores, revealing lurking dangers and hidden treasures. But he'd meticulously copied into his notebook the history etched on those walls, the final words of survivors. His passion suited a historian more than a pirate. It was genuine, that desperate love. So profound it couldn't be fathomed, not even a fragment—like the vast sea embracing all.
No fool could miss it.
"That damn bastard... he really found the Fountain of Youth."
"...I'm not going crazy, right?"
Mortis, lost in grim thought, whipped around in shock at the young voice from behind. Not cursed, but having drunk from the [Fountain of Youth] for eternal youth. Zan and Mortis had thought so too, but it was actually the [Crown of the Sea God]'s curse. Yet there stood the young Zan from those old days, frowning at Mortis. Kid and the others froze as she grumbled about her back pain being gone.
"Wasn't the old hag poisoned...? No, then—there was no reason for me to fight to the death!"
"Shut your crap. You treated her like a grandma just to bide time and kill her—what's your excuse?"
"...She's okay, right?"
"Yeah... okay as hell."
Was she thinking, try it yourself sometime? The rejuvenated Zan scowled down at Hornigold, whom she'd arbitrarily dosed before he died. As she stepped forward, Admiral Shark subtly cleared a path, and the prime minister handed her the coat the Pirate King had worn. Everyone present understood its implication without asking.
"Fuckin' bastard—got a will or something? Dumping it like this, of course there's pushback!"
"The 4th Pirate Fleet you sent out this morning consists of rough, wicked criminals with murder records. And the Invincible Armada we dispatched? Loaded with nothing but trash pirates."
"...That damn bastard cleans up thoroughly. Truly... what a shitty guy."
Now, the kingdom held only the navy and the pirates who'd chased Hornigold—scum guilty of submission, ripe for betrayal. He'd tidied them all up in one go. He'd been certain from the start he wouldn't lose to some Invincible Armada. No need to delegate the purge; he'd handled it all at once. He hadn't mobilized his crew because—
—he'd prepared his death site from the beginning and waited.
No wonder the evening banquet had been so lavishly unnecessary; he'd laid out his pre-death feast. Sighing, Zan felt no confidence in defending the island now, with the Invincible Armada lost and half their pirates gone. Hornigold's death hadn't spread yet, but it was only a matter of time.
Putting that aside for now, she suppressed the urge to kick the dead king's corpse and asked the prime minister.
"Any last words?"
"Something like, Better to die than serve under you?"
"What a punk-ass."
Men were an incomprehensible species, even after decades. She burst into hollow laughter instead. He'd probably massacred all the noble slaves himself before leaving. Every internal issue in the Pirate Kingdom had been neatly resolved before handover. The outer seas were beyond even his control.
"...Retrieve the body."
"Yes."
They decided on the sunniest spot overlooking the kingdom. As weeping residents and silently tearful pirates watched, the coated Zan walked toward the kingdom with Mortis. No one voiced dissent at the new king—chilling, as if prepared long ago. Or perhaps his influence was that vast. Had he arranged it so no objections would arise even if he passed the throne to another? He was a pirate. Plundering, killing, seizing. But also a man of freedom. Only those who admired him remained—so swapping pirates for navy wouldn't change much. Admiral Shark even rated converting navy to pirates as preferable... The kingdom would remain the Pirate Kingdom for life, kingless.
"Gonna sail? Gotta review these docs? Study up on duties?"
"...Come to think of it, Hornigold said what he fed Zan was a nightmare. She's always hated studying."
"Fuck..."
Rejuvenated perks: unlimited smokes and booze. Cooling her burning heart with liquor, she scanned the left documents, then froze at two notebooks on Hornigold's desk. One pristine, barely used; the other so worn it might tear at a touch.
After a moment, Zan handed the tattered one to Circe.
"Yours, I bet."
"...?"
Opening it revealed runes chronicling the fallen kingdom's history—from her parents' era to survivors' records. Sandwiched photos of kingdom relics left Circe speechless. Riko rummaged a drawer, pulling out a photo of Circe's royal family portrait, frayed but preserved. Hornigold had copied it to avoid damage.
Riko wiped her tear-streaked cheeks with a handkerchief. Flipping pages in a trance, a key slipped out—more a door key than vault. The prime minister led to the adjacent room: artifacts from ruins, coral carvings. Untouched by servants, dustless—who maintained it?
A tiny life washed ashore on sandy beaches, small enough to cradle. Now overflowing, emotions spilled from the vessel, tears endless.
"Man up and comfort her."
"...Can't even stand."
Legs shattered, arm wrecked, mummified in bandages on the bed—Riko facepalmed at pathetic Radamu. Kid and Prince Castella nearby were similar wrecks; men are all hopeless, she spat candy and slammed the door. Hyacinth, re-bandaged, dragged in and headlocked; Kid cheered, clapping.
"Evacuating island residents to the kingdom is our only option."
Unfurling the sea chart revealed Hornigold's mark claiming the entire Salacia Sea. Not all islands could fit everyone. Mortis suggested Trust Union or Pansinjeon, but ships and time were short.
"No, there's a way."
As they pondered cleanup, Circe entered with Riko, wearing the [Crown of the Sea God] and holding the [Triton of the Sea]. Reclaiming sea authority she'd never expected, her face was glum—but she'd asked Riko to relay.
Riko looked baffled, for real?, but spoke first.
"...If witches come to the island, will there be backlash?"
"...Not much. Might get treated like zoo animals."
"Doesn't matter. Ugh... She says float the island via sea and move it to Pirate Kingdom."
"...Possible?"
"That's why it's the [Crown of the Sea God]."
Zan frowned skeptically at Riko's matter-of-fact tone. Possible? With side effects, surely. Circe warned: using sea to move mixes sea lanes entirely, invalidating charts.
"But at least others can't invade casually."
No choices left. Circe raised the Triton. No fanfare—just the sea gently surging.
Pirate Kingdom drifted like flotsam. Following the natural fortress's path, distant islands appeared on the horizon. Fishermen out at sea? Their boats washed ashore safely, easing worries. As islands clustered, seawater receded, kingdom rising. Grotesque: islands piled on land. Spaced apart, seawater refilled, encircling; storms vortexed the coast.
"...Haa, so the Witches' Island escapes Hecate's protection."
Like a bird shattering its shell to fly. Freedom brings peril. Mortis marveled at witches swarming skyward. Zan sighed: a man who'd dreamed of that island his whole life.
"...At least sea folk are safe now. But external foes remain."
"We'll handle that."
Elves, Empire, Holy Eagle Kingdom. Empire lost navy; Holy Eagle, ironclads. Both grounded awhile—but elves worried. Circe reassured: she'd handle it.
"...Clean wrap-up."
"Lady Circe says Hornigold knew."
First thought, naturally: posthumous issues. Unlike Zan's fears, he'd resolved it. Returned crown to Circe, granting her followers freedom; henceforth, Pirate Kingdom coexists with witches.
"...Damn bastard."
Pirate King dead, kingdom reborn. Under Admiral Shark's training, new fleets formed; traded with lost merchants on altered lanes; fought rampaging pirates post-news...
Elves, unexpectedly quiet.
Thus, a hectic month flew by. Potions and Mortis's healing barely restored bodies—Bartholomew's first act: prep his ship for new sea voyages. Radamu needed more rest; without elixir, permanent damage loomed from overexertion.
"Adventure to find Montagu survivors somewhere!"
Bartholomew buzzed with unachieved goal from Hornigold's notes: they survived extinction, hiding in these seas. Hopeful tale. Worth pursuing? Debatable...
"I'll be back, Lady Circe!"
Waving goodbye from Circe, Riko sailed off to find her a Montagu—for her sake, youngest's ambition. Witches waved, advising ambush him absurdly.
Hyacinth dragged unilaterally to Shark for navy training hell. Prince Castella, still unhealed, wailed extra.
"...Maou's emergence seems to have deterred elves from sea incursions."
Mortis gathered intel trading with merchants for busy Zan. Shin Tu-gap returned to Pansinjeon. Radamu hadn't expected elves to cower from total assault. That terrifying?
Crutches finally viable, Radamu slumped at Hornigold's grave. Flowers, bottles littered—well-visited. Azure sky, warm sun. Prime burial spot amid isle cluster: Pirate Archipelago Kingdom?
Carved guardian tree flute—his sole offering. Playing the music he loved, gazing sea. Melody echoed; wind spirits danced graveside. Settled free here.
Among dancing spirits, distant waving Circe approached. Radamu waved back, crutched up unsteadily.
——Gardriel Island. Island whence the Maou Candidate Hornigold pursued—a human among his comrades—hailed. My next destination.