Onward to the Sea!
"Onward to the sea. 'We can't take in every race! We're in the middle of a war! Starting with the plague, we can't handle it! Where will we get food? Manpower? Do we have medicine to treat the sick? Protecting everyone is just a pipe dream! We have to set rules! Are you listening? Don't you feel sorry for that guy?!'"
"Real Man's Trait: No Complaints"
The long, grueling war—swarms of elves, the Maou army, all sorts of monsters. Wyrms soaring through the skies torching civilizations, titans crushing nations in a single step, and even Evil Gods whose mere existence sowed chaos across the world. In the hellish Chronicle Continent, five heroes poured everything into protecting lives, but even they couldn't shoulder it all.
Endless streams of refugees, the weak flocking to the heroes for survival. No one knew how many demons or elf spies lurked among them, or how many were infected with the plague, parasitized by monsters, or puppeted by Evil Gods. The blood-soaked warlock mage in his tattered robe raged that blindly accepting them all—draining resources to the point they couldn't farm or fight—would only rot their forces from within. Every life was precious, sure, but even heroes were ultimately fragile humans. Even with the gods' aid, limits existed.
"I get how you feel! But we have to prioritize those who trusted and followed us first—draw a line!"
His comrade crossed his legs and bellowed, but the young man in the black martial arts uniform—upper body bare, chugging rum—laughed heartily.
"Shut it, man. If the continent's no good, we head to sea."
"Hah...?"
"Medicine, manpower, food—the sea's vast. Gotta be somethin' out there! Build us a ship, Park Chun-sik."
"Got one ready. A refugee transport vessel on the sea route. Needs armaments?"
"Nah. With me here, what for? Arm it up, and the island natives won't take kindly. We go bare-handed."
He guffawed, downing more rum. That hero, Captain Eagle, set sail for the open sea.
Facing Evil Gods emerging from the depths, sea-spawned calamities and colossal monsters. Battling freakish weather and the ocean's unfathomable mysteries.
He claimed treasures too—but staring at mountains of gold too vast to load, he let his crew pocket what they could and said:
"Junk! Gold can't save a single soul. Hahaha!"
If his men wanted the gold and jewels, take 'em. Lighten the load if the ship groaned. He even ditched his god-forged armor on some island.
His crew followed suit, dumping their hauls overboard to cram aboard one more person, more supplies, and returned to the continent.
"The sea's endless! Continent plagued? To sea we go!"
They built a massive island-Pansinjeon, erecting temples, sending kids to safety while adults stayed to fight for their future on the continent. Leading the charge: the hero history dubbed the First Pirate King.
"Treasures? Jewels? Who needs 'em! Gimme rum and a gal to party with—that's life!"
He gave isolated island natives a home at Pansinjeon, kept his promise not to drag them into war, and led them to new lives.
Freely roaming the seas, hauling medicine, food, holy relics. Pushing the front lines, turning sea dominance against foes in naval clashes, severing supply lines.
Captain Eagle, freest soul on the waves, earned his title as King of the Sea.
Though insisting on "Pirate King"? Just his quirky side shining through.
...
He'd dozed off after some drinks, it seemed. Sea breeze too soothing? Or long-overdue relaxation loosening his guard? He dreamed of heroes again.
Watching Captain Eagle and Trust bicker—how bad blood between them?—yet they stuck it out to the end. Killing each other in the finale... but even in death, Trust's iron will watched over and acknowledged him.
Comrades forged in hardship, regardless.
History said Trust raged again when Eagle ditched the god-forged armor. "If you're not using it, give it to others!"
But Eagle laughed it off: "Just dead weight—we die later, it'll cause trouble anyway."
The gods-granted armor, tossed to lighten the ship and save lives, earned blessings instead of wrath.
"No Eight Demon Swords or Five Divine Relics at sea, but cursed weapons, ancient relics, maybe even an Epic Chronicle?"
Kidd knew treasures inside out. Dreamed big of finding one someday.
An Epic Chronicle rivaled god-forged arms named after the continent—peak crafts by smiths and artisans. Giant Knight Talos counted as one.
Which I kinda ate... Better keep that secret from Kidd forever.
The Five Divine Relics: god-gifts to heroes. God-forged armor was one.
Others stayed on Chronicle Continent, but only Trust used his to the end. Daegomgei left his holy sword at Pansinjeon; Park Chun-sik never used his. The last one's mere record fueled guesses of five heroes.
Ancient relics: lost tech, mostly Montagu civilization wiped by elves.
Sea especially vast; Montagu ruins blessed by sea gods prized by pirates.
Cursed weapons: dangerous hexed blades popping up at sea, driving pirates mad—but wieldable, they outpowered most arms.
Too much info...
Overwhelmed, he jotted notes while listening to Kidd.
The Eight Demon Swords: demon smiths forged betraying Maou for heroes. Most famous: Bopal Weapon.
Eight more like that? Continent so vast, unknowns abounded.
"Heroes' crafts or Park Chun-sik's abandoned war machines linger too."
As mentioned, Maou Territory at continent's edge. Trust Union opposite. They pushed there fighting Maou; now post-peace, heroes retreated to Union.
War left Union arms and hero-forged gear scattered. Empire, Holy Eagle Kingdom, elves divvied them up, claiming ownership.
Irony: using them to war on Trust Union.
Union still harried by Empire, elves at borders. Amid endless nation wars, Maou Candidates emerged, Evil Gods broke seals rampaging... Sprawled on deck, the world's sole hero pondered: What do I even do?
He'd grow strong to fight the Maou.
But honestly? Still unclear if that was all.
Was the mighty Maou truly slain, silent through heroes' long deaths, now reviving?
Why were Maou Candidates chosen?
Blue skies... Gazing up, worries seemed petty—but even they couldn't contain them.
How long since he just stared at the sky? Watching winged birds, he rose.
"So, you three sharing a room? With a girl too?"
"Yeah, our party's navigator."
"Whew, wish I had a beauty like that!"
Far off, Riko waved languidly, hips swaying in elegant stride, charming the crew. Kidd straightened his hair at once.
Hyacinth clamped his mouth, like Your turn, punk.
Ignoring it, but Riko sauntered behind my seat for a back hug.
"What're the boys up to~♪?"
Her playful whisper in my ear—we'd been toyed with enough—no big reaction from Hyacinth or me.
Kidd, though, stood gentlemanly, hands at waist, bowing.
"Pleased, milady. I'm Bartholomew Kidd, first mate. Thrilled to meet sea-faring peers my age—mid-man talk."
This guy's smooth...
Hyacinth gawked, betrayed.
Grabbing Riko's hand naturally: "If no offense, milady's name?" Blushing, she gave it.
"Sharing with lads okay? I could ask the captain to switch rooms."
"Nah~ Radamu and I are inseparable."
"Ah, ahem... Right..."
This guy's got game... Hyacinth and I eyed each other: When to spill?
Our sour faces? Kidd, smitten by Riko's beauty, missed it. "First lady with hips like that—my type!" Face red, he coughed, envying me.
Hyacinth smiled sweetly, arm-in-arm, dragged him to a corner, whispered something. Kidd collapsed, knees buckling.
"Men, honestly."
"Riko's a guy too. What happened?"
I'd planted a lemon tree in the room before leaving—did she need to come out?
Riko wanted captain's okay for one more passenger.
"Get permission first," I said, heading to the captain—drinking with Mortis.
"Huh? Mid-sea? Your comrade?"
"Yeah, swimming to join."
"Whew, tough one. Swim this sea bare-skinned to catch us?"
"Did it young once. Lemme see her face." Captain approved gladly.
Hearing "swim," I eyed Riko skeptically. She gripped the rail, waiting.
Horizon: black shadow torpedoed in, breached surface—a slender woman in jellyfish hat, hair-tentacles writhing, landed gracefully on deck.
"ᚺᛖᛚᛚᛟ"
Grinning at my dumbstruck face, she curtsied, skirt hems lifted: sea witch Circe.
Riko smirked proudly, hands on hips.
"Well? Best ally ever?"
"Real motive?"
"Our princess won't date otherwise?"
"Hide it better."
"?"
She wondered at our chat. What race to hide her as? I sighed, rubbing my face.
Riko shrugged: "Wear race."
Doubtful... Mortis pitied at "wear"; captain patted her shoulder: "Poor thing, can't talk."
...
Lucky ship—good folk only. Crew just thrilled more girls.
Kidd whispered if she was guy too—Riko kneed his groin.
"ᛚᛖᛏ'ᛋ ᛏᚱᚨᚢᛖᛚ ᛏᛟᚷᛖᛏᚺᛖᚱ, ᛗᚤ ᚺᛖᚱᛟ"
"Travel together..." Sea witch ally? Fearless at sea.
Witches' Island folk? They'd pack her bags and boot her out.
Riko: "I'll assist princess," evicted Hyacinth.
Don't you leave?
Wailing Hyacinth consoled by Kidd.
"Room with me! No tears!"
"Kidd bro...!"
"...Me too?"
No say—Riko choked: "Gotta escort princess." No choice.
Two days post-sail, I ended up rooming with the ladies.