Chapter 16
Chapter 16
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Chicken?
-----------------------------------------------------------------
-Clang!
A sharp, ringing sound echoed out.
At its center on the deck stood two people.
On one side was a black-haired woman gripping a training sword, her face twisted as if she were about to slice someone in half at any moment.
On the other was a slightly shorter blonde girl wielding a longsword, her fresh and cute appearance contrasting sharply— the kind of face that promised she'd grow into a stunning beauty.
Their duel appeared evenly matched at a glance, but neither the participants themselves nor the onlookers standing a short distance away thought that for a second.
The one swinging her blade was none other than Frankling, a 9th-grade advanced warrior.
Even now, she was relaxing her grip as much as possible, facing off against the cute "little sister" who was swinging her sword with all her might despite her still-inadequate strength.
Frankling lightly parried Ambasha's attack and said,
"A... a bit more— relax your shoulders. And make sure your mana flow doesn't get disrupted."
Ambasha pressed her assault, crudely squeezing out her mana however she could.
Her current level was 2nd-grade— a beginner warrior who didn't even reach Frankling's toes.
She could barely handle mana now, but the amount was minuscule, and even her basic control was clumsy.
However... separate from her pitifully low realm in every way.
The power Ambasha displayed was enough to fill everyone present with profound astonishment.
"Impressive, huh? When we first saw her, she couldn't even use mana, and now she's already 2nd-grade."
"That's no ordinary talent. Elkana, how long did it take you to get that far?"
"About a year? Mazelan, didn't it take you over three months? This kid might end up stronger than you someday."
"Hmm... Judging purely by visible talent, I can't say no..."
Having trained with weapons and mana themselves to reach this point, they knew the process inside out.
The 2nd-grade warrior realm that had taken them a year and three months respectively.
Ambasha had picked up a sword for the first time less than a month ago.
It might seem minor now, but that miraculous growth rate alone marked her talent as nothing short of genius.
They marveled purely at the fact.
And at the same time, watching her swing her sword with unyielding passion and effort that matched her gift.
Mazelan glanced around cautiously and slowly rose from his seat.
Over the past few days, he'd grown somewhat accustomed to life aboard.
Bennetsa business would likely resolve without issue too, since luck had the Pirate King setting course there next.
With his mind at ease now.
Mazelan watched the scene before him, his blood starting to boil ever so slightly.
That's when.
"What? What's that? Getting fired up? Turned on? Horny from watching?"
"Watch your words... People are around... Anyway, I'm heading out."
"Take it easy~ If you swing wildly and get hurt, your debt piles up more."
Ignoring Elkana's teasing words, Mazelan grabbed a training sword and stepped forward.
Elkana watched him go, a sly smile curling her lips.
"Jeez... Honestly, I wondered how it'd go at first, but seeing this? Seems like he's adapting better than me."
*
"Hah... hah... hah..."
Ambasha panted heavily, no mana left to squeeze out.
Watching her, Frankling offered a dry towel with a chilling smile.
"Good work. Here."
"Hoo... Th... thank you."
"Yeah... That's enough for today. Rest up, then meet me in the galley later."
"Yes. You too."
With a quick bow, Ambasha scurried off toward someone.
The man lounging by the stairs...
Pirate King Ezra Drake.
"Daddy, I'm done!"
"Haha, good job, my girl. Growing by leaps and bounds every day— a sight to behold."
"Hehe..."
The Pirate King ruffled Ambasha's hair with a pleased chuckle.
It was a familiar scene by now, but today it made Frankling's head itch oddly as she watched.
Not quite jealousy, but...
It stirred a desire in her to approach with her own hopes.
Entertaining the thought, Frankling glanced around and began stepping forward cautiously.
That's when...
"Hey, you there."
"!..."
A sudden voice.
Turning, Frankling's eyes fell on an unwelcome face...
Mazelan's.
"Wh... what?"
"Watching made my body itch. Been a while— wanna spar me?"
"N... no real reason to fight you."
"Why not? There's plenty. You lost to me once."
"!"
"Can't have a big-shot exec like you go 1-1 against a fresh newbie. Gotta get revenge, right?"
"Th... that was... because you cheated..."
"Heh, you think you can win fair and square? Prove it then. No way you're tired from that kid... unless you're scared you'll lose?"
"..."
A surefire tactic in this situation.
Mazelan deployed the ultimate taunt: 'Chicken?'
Frankling's face hardened coldly in an instant.
A stark shift from before.
The serious aura from their first clash.
Smirking at how well the provocation landed, Mazelan gripped his training sword tight.
She'd always had a scary vibe,
but her blank expression now screamed fury so clearly it stirred primal fear.
"...Don't regret this."
With that, Frankling channeled mana into her training sword.
Mazelan felt deeper excitement watching that finely honed power he'd glimpsed before.
And.
-Kreeeeeng!!!
Their blades clashed with a piercing screech.
The mana ripples scattered the pirates' attention back to them.
"What the... what's with those two all of a sudden?"
"Hmm... Doesn't seem like a simple spar. Frankling's too mild for that... Probably this Mazelan guy picked a fight."
Navigator Samir Rolronua analyzed calmly at First Mate Lemain Migdal's furrowed brow.
Brawls among crew were banned aboard, but fair duels were fine.
Yet their sword swings at each other brimmed with unfeigned intensity beyond a normal spar...
-Kreeeeek!!!
A chilling grind as mana flows collided.
Frankling led in technique and mana control, but Mazelan's male strength gave him the edge there.
Their deadlock held without tipping either way.
That's when...
"Well now... Quite the entertaining show."
"Ah..."
"Gah!"
A voice halted their escalating fight dead.
Frankling and Mazelan froze stiff, staring at the Pirate King now standing before them.
"C... Captain... S... sorry."
"I... uh... th... this was just a spar... um... M... my apologies, Pirate King."
"No need. What is there to apologize for? Honing your skills as pirates is natural. A bit rough, but no issue with a proper duel."
"Th... thank you, Captain."
"Grateful for your understanding."
Mazelan, still awkward around the Pirate King, bowed politely.
Then.
The Pirate King turned to them both with a serious smile.
"But seeing you two swing so eagerly... it's got me itching too."
"...Pardon?"
"Y... you... do?"
Mazelan felt a vague unease creep in, reminiscent of past events.
And perfectly so.
His anxiety proved spot-on.
"How about it? Both of you take me on?"
"W... wait... Captain?"
"H... how could we face the Pirate King..."
The pair voiced their shock.
The Pirate King grinned wide.
"No need to tense up. It's just a spar, right? Just loosening up— no holding back on my end, so relax."
"But..."
"Hmm..."
No matter what, this was a 12th-grade pinnacle warrior— leagues beyond their 8th and 9th-grades.
Fighting a 100% loss was just being a punching bag.
As Mazelan pondered minimizing damage...
"Here's the deal: If you so much as scratch my clothes in this duel, I'll grant one reasonable wish each."
"Pardon?"
"A... a wish...?"
The Pirate King's bold wager.
It ignited sudden motivation in the hesitant duo.
Frankling had wants already, and Mazelan saw a shot at an officer spot.
Accepting, they raised swords at the Pirate King, stances firm.
"Th... this time... we cooperate. Stay sharp."
"Pot calling the kettle. Don't drag me down."
Still prickly, but worlds apart from before.
Watching, the Pirate King smiled faintly, channeling mana into his training sword slowly.