On the sea.

Bang! Bang! Bang!...

The battleship continued to use its powerful catapult to relentlessly hurl deadly "Insect Balls" onto the "Iron Bone," constantly slowing its escape by wounding crew and damaging rigging.

Basem wanted the "living" ones on the ship, so he certainly couldn't choose to sink the "Iron Bone" with the overwhelming firepower of the battleship.

Especially when hunting down a strong opponent qualified to be his prey, Basem showed extreme patience, and the mobile fortress of a warship under his command was his confidence.

The "Skeleton Tomb," as a formidable Level 4 battleship, had the displacement and formidable firepower as expected, naturally requiring enough sailors for navigation.

However...

Step.. step.. step..

Though now the ship was bustling with "comings and goings," with helmsmen, sailors, and catapult operators... a multitude of sailors busying with their duties, it was deathly silent.

No chatter, no shouting, no commanding voice, and certainly no laughing or playing around!

Clad in tattered sailor uniforms barely covering their bluish-black skin, the "sailors" operated the ship with standard, skillful moves, and aside from the sound of footsteps, there were no other noises, not to mention whispering...

At first glance, this pirate ship appeared well-disciplined, even stricter than the Navy's code.

But if you stood on this ship yourself, though "people" moved before you, it felt like being in a dark, eerie cemetery in the dead of night, sending chills down your spine.

Not to mention the almost completely uncovered stench of decay on the ship's corpses, a nightmare for any normal human senses!

At this moment.

On the tall aft tower of the battleship stood a short, strange figure wrapped in bandages full of runic spell marks, with a white silk cloak tied around the neck.

However, purple-black scars of rotted and healed wounds covered his exposed skin; his eyes were lively, proving him alive, but his appearance wasn't much different from the "Corpse Monsters" aboard.

Basem casually gripped a heavy golden staff, seemingly patrolling his own pasture rather than navigating the treacherous sea.

"Ha kaka, 'Iron Bone William' will certainly make a good specimen! Strong enough in its own right, with quite the legendary background, just one like him might suffice for my 'Corpse Bone Altar.'

'Iron Bone,' 'Iron Bone'—such a fitting nickname. Soon, you'll be mine! Ha kaka..."

The laughter was grating and harsh, resembling the friction of dry, coarse stones leaving a barren sound, as if after a century of thirst.

Especially when he laughed, revealing an ugly black-patterned tongue, a snake's head emerging from a pitch-black cave, unbearably unsettling at just a glance!

Whoo—

The wind southwest over the sea was very strong.

The two ships, one leading and one trailing, despite being in a standoff due to their respective issues, moved at a considerable pace.

With pursuit and escape in play, time quietly slipped away.

Though the sun was steadily rising, a layer of morning fog slowly drifted over the sea surface, and visibility wasn't much better than in the pre-dawn hours.

"Tack!"

Aiven issued this command once more, having frequently repeated it since sailing against the wind.

The zigzag sailing caused the ship to drift, constantly needing correction to keep the warship advancing in the predetermined direction.

In fact, the "Conch" with the towed "Big Thumb" was already within close range of the two oncoming pirate ships.

But due to the conveniently rising large-scale sea fog and the pre-activated "Mist Silver Lamp," the pirates, engaged in their chase, didn't notice them.

"Sailor, brace the sail, we'll wait for them to pass first!"

The sailors immediately controlled the sails on the fore and main masts, angling them in opposing directions, neutralizing the forces, allowing both ships to drift quietly with the sea current.

From Milan, Aiven obtained highly detailed intelligence on Basem, more precise than pirates' official descriptions.

Included was Basem's weakness and that of his underlings: their senses were incredibly dull.

After all, driven by Extraordinary abilities, their bodies' original components hadn't rotted away; how could they have any sensitivity left?

So Aiven boldly took the upper-hand position this time to seize the attack opportunity, as the crew was truly too exhausted from maneuvering against the wind for such a long time.

Soon, two kilometers away, the two pirate ships, one before the other, sailed past their flank. Though aware the sea mist here seemed thicker than elsewhere.

They only considered it fog formed in a specific area; one was busy fleeing, the other busy pursuing, ignoring it.

Flap, flap—

Thus, they failed to notice a White Seagull emerging from the fog bank, extending its wings across the sea, quietly landing on the battered-looking "Iron Bone."

With numerous upgrades, the seabirds' capabilities far exceeded those of the past.

During combat with the "White Shark," they had already been able to send basic messages to Gel, and now real-time close-range communication was feasible.

Once again, swatting a peculiar beetle seemingly crafted from gold into the sea, even with William's formidable skills, he panted several times.

Huff! Huff!

Even though the beetle attacks had significantly lessened, suggesting their Insect Balls were nearly depleted, it was the overwhelming, suffocating impotence that truly despaired!

In the vast sea, only themselves and the enemy remained, rigging heavily damaged, leaving no chance for repairs amidst such pursuit.

Even if abandoning the crew, using the "Secret Technique: Wind Return" to glide away, it was still gliding, not flying.

Alone in the sea, the outcome wouldn't differ from now!

Though enduring just a little longer aboard the "Iron Bone," most crew reached their limits under the bizarre beetle attacks, with the terrifying "Skeleton Tomb" already closing in.

Downwind, they could already clearly smell the thick stench of decay emanating from that ship...

"No resources, no way" perfectly described their current predicament.

Flap, flap—

"Hello, Mr. William, we meet again! However, it seems your situation is less than ideal."

"Who?!"

The voice suddenly ringing within his mind startled William, already tense; he swiftly turned to locate the voice's source. Yet seeing the surrounding crew's reactions, this voice was evidently audible to him alone.

"No need to look; I'm right above you on the mast. Moreover, time is running out for you, so I'll be brief."

The voice echoed again from his mind, and "Iron Bone William" finally identified its source, glancing up at the mast where a snow-white seagull with round black eyes locked gazes with him.

At this point, William couldn't afford to care whether those black eyes behind it represented a bird, human, or demon; the emergence of the final straw meant he had no other choice.

Aware of his precarious situation, William couldn't afford a futile bargaining act, knowing getting fleeced was still preferable to becoming a Corpse Monster!

"Can you save us? What price do I need to pay?"

William, an experienced former Navy officer and now pirate captain, immediately realized the previous sea fog was suspicious—someone hid there!

"Very well! Mr. William! You are clearly a smart man; turn around and fight! A desperate battle may offer a path to survival, but delay further, and who knows what you'll choose without hope."

Knowing the presence of reinforcements gives him some hope, because without any hope, it's hard to tell what choice William might make based on his usual conduct.

However, aware of his precarious situation, William didn't have the luxury to choose otherwise.

Leaning on his ruby staff, Aiven explained to Milan.

After all, I am not doing charity work, and it would be more advantageous to strike after they weaken each other than to expect William to heed our strategy.

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