On the deck of the *Akyon*.
Aran was hiding in a corner of the deck, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the battle.
Or rather, “battle” was not the right word, because it was an absolute, overwhelming slaughter.
“S-So strong…” Aran had lost count of how many times he had uttered that involuntary gasp.
Indeed.
For someone born in a tiny fishing village on a remote island, the power displayed by the mysterious entity wearing the rooster mask had completely shattered his worldview.
He had never imagined a human being could be so powerful.
The figure proved through action that the power wielded by the powerhouses of this sea far exceeded the limits of his imagination.
Aran saw it clearly.
The rooster-masked powerhouse moved at speeds far exceeding what his eyes could track; often, Aran would only hear a gust of wind before the figure appeared in the distance.
Every punch blasted massive holes straight through the ship’s bulwarks.
Every step cracked and cratered the deck.
In contrast, the guards of the Kingdom of Nismail, who had seemed incredibly powerful to him, could not even put up a fight.
And now…
*Crack!* The figure in the rooster mask grabbed the last guard and casually snapped his neck.
*Thud!* The sound of the corpse hitting the deck served as the final note of the battle.
Only then did the rooster mask turn around and walk over to Aran.
He raised his hand and tossed something—an action that made Aran and all his slice clones flinch in unison.
But when he instinctively caught the object, he realized it was a ring of keys.
“These are…
the keys to the hold’s cages?” Aran’s eyes instantly lit up.
“You’re here to rescue the slaves, aren’t you?” The rooster-masked man finally spoke, “Go.” “…Right!” Although Aran didn’t know why this stranger was helping him, it didn’t stop him from nodding vigorously.
Aran and his slice clones rushed straight into the hold.
Meanwhile, Roy swept his gaze across the surroundings and began searching the guards’ bodies one by one.
“Oho, this jewelry looks like it’s of decent quality!” “Whoa, a whole bundle.
Must be at least a hundred thousand Berries.” “Holy crap, a check from the Feld Bank?” Guided by the principle that every little bit counts, Roy stripped the guards of all their valuables.
Whenever he touched treasure, Berries, or anything of value, the coins and jewelry vanished instantly.
In their place, the values inside Roy’s system interface rose steadily.
Until finally, the number on the light screen displayed: [Current Berries: 45,230,000].
“My word, a harvest worth a full 4.1 million Berries.” Seeing the update, Roy felt absolutely delighted.
It had to be said that the guards of a royal slave ship were indeed wealthy.
In just this brief moment, Roy had obtained the equivalent of more than a year’s worth of his salary.
“How is it that literally everyone feels richer than me…” Roy sighed.
Then he stood up, adjusted his mask, and walked into the hold.
The scene inside was even more depressing than Roy had imagined.
The lighting was dim, with only a few flickering oil lamps barely illuminating the space.
The air was foul, a suffocating mixture of various unpleasant odors.
On both sides of the hold were row after row of rusted iron cages, and various torture implements could be seen in the distance.
The merchant ship itself was a reflection of the Kingdom of Nismail—beneath its prosperous surface lay filthy, wretched rot.
However, the iron cages had all been unlocked by now.
Numerous raggedly dressed slaves supported one another as they stepped out.
Shock and confusion were written all over their faces.
Some, reacting faster than the rest, had already thrown their arms around each other, weeping loudly.
In their cries was the joy of regained freedom, but also palpable pain.
It required no explanation; Roy could see it clearly.
Those left in this hold were either very old or had obvious physical disabilities.
Just as the guards had said—they were “low-grade goods,” slaves that no one wanted to buy.
But naturally, their family members and companions might not have been deemed “low-grade.” Many of them had likely already been sold off in the Sabaody Archipelago.
The pain of living separation was no less agonizing than that of death.
…
Roy remained silent, quickly spotting Aran among the crowd.
Aran was currently holding a curled-up elderly man—the same one Roy had glimpsed earlier through the porthole.
He looked even more wretched than before.
He was bleeding all over, his messy hair matted to his bloody forehead.
Yet, he still clutched that piece of rag tightly in his hand, mumbling incessantly, “Colly…
Colly, my Colly…” “I’m sorry, Grandpa…
I’m so sorry.
I didn’t make it in time…” Aran’s face was awash with tears and agony.
All of his slice clones shared this immense grief.
The other slaves looked at the scene and bowed their heads.
The atmosphere in the hold grew so heavy it was suffocating.
Just then, the sound of Roy’s footsteps drew everyone’s attention.
Upon seeing the rooster mask, some slaves gasped.
Aran had obviously explained the situation to them already.
They knew that this was the person who had single-handedly slaughtered all the guards to rescue them along with Aran.
“Colly?” Beneath his rooster mask, Roy asked softly, keeping his voice low.
“Yes.
She’s my younger sister.
She was bought,” Aran wiped his tears and forced himself to calm down.
“My grandpa tried his best to stop them, but he couldn’t…” Roy glanced at the clearly traumatized old man and nodded.
The situation was clear; there was no need for further explanation.
“What do you plan to do next?” Roy asked quietly.
“I assume you’ve already prepared an escape plan after rescuing them?” “Yes.” Aran nodded, only then realizing he had forgotten to introduce himself.
“Sir, my name is Aran.
I prepared a few small fishing boats and spare clothes in a secluded port at Master Port.
According to my plan, we can head there and escape by boat after leaving the branch.” “Once we reach a nearby island, we’ll be safe, and then we can go…” Hearing this, the slaves shuddered.
It was obvious Aran wanted to say “home.” But they all knew they could never go back.
Their village had already been laid to waste by those beasts from the Kingdom of Nismail.
However, Aran was a resolute person.
He quickly pulled himself together and continued, “Once I settle Grandpa, I will try to find Colly’s whereabouts.
She’s my sister…
I must save her…” He gritted his teeth, looking up at Roy.
“Sir…
My lord…” With a heavy thud, he knelt before Roy.
But before he could speak, Roy cut him off.
“Are you asking me to go with you to rescue your sister?” Roy looked down at him.
“…Yes.” Aran’s voice was hoarse.
“I don’t have the power you possess, my lord…” He wasn’t afraid of dying.
Coming to this merchant ship tonight, he had been fully prepared to lose his life.
But what had just transpired made him understand the gap in power with chilling clarity.
Some things simply could not be solved by courage alone.
Just like this time—if not for the rooster-masked man in front of him, the fate of himself and all these slaves would have been tragic beyond measure.
If only he could secure the aid of this powerhouse…
“I refuse,” Roy replied without the slightest hesitation.
He looked at Aran.
“You heard them.
The one who bought your sister is a Celestial Dragon.
We have no reason to start a war with the World Government for your sake.” He was simply stating a cold, hard fact.
Indeed, Roy possessed a strong moral compass and a sense of compassion.
When it didn’t disrupt his own plans, he had no qualms about saving slaves like he did tonight.
But that did not mean he would storm Mary Geoise on a whim of pity.
…
Aran’s face paled to the extreme.
His lips trembled, but he couldn’t utter a word for a long time.
Even as a mere fisherman from a remote island, he had heard of the “World Nobles.” He knew Roy was right.
“I was out of line…” He spoke in a choked voice.
But once again, before he could finish, Roy interrupted him.
“However, I might be able to make a request to my Leader.
If we have the opportunity to go to Mary Geoise in the future, or if we spot your sister elsewhere, we will try to rescue her.” “But in return, I need you to do some things for us,” Roy said softly.
Upon hearing this, the despair in Aran’s eyes was instantly replaced by pleasant surprise.
He stared up at the rooster mask.
To him, the mask now represented hope itself.
Although he didn’t know who the “we” Roy spoke of referred to, only gathering that the man belonged to some organization, he could at least guess that the organization must be incredibly powerful!
So, even though Roy’s terms might be demanding and offered no absolute guarantee that his sister would be recovered, Aran answered without a shred of hesitation, “I’m willing!
My lord, I am willing to do anything—even if it costs me my life, I—” “I don’t need your life.” Roy raised a hand to cut him off.
“I only need you to do two things for me.” Speaking softly, he briefly outlined the two tasks he required.
The more Aran listened, the more astonished his expression became.
By the end, he looked completely dumbfounded.
“Are you serious?
You really want me to…” “Of course.” Upon receiving Roy’s solemn affirmation, Aran’s expression turned serious.
“Since it is your command…
I will do it.”