In the dark, stuffy, and swaying ship's hold, Charles, struggling against waves of pain and disorientation, couldn't help but mutter. Slaughter all the ronin? Free the captives? He nearly laughed, but what came out was only a hoarse groan of pain. That's easy.
But this developer is a bastard, why me, who just survived a battle against a god-like entity, stranded in a dying state, alone, and unarmed, asked to fight a group of pirates? Even if they're just small fry, it still feels damn annoying to be turned into a spectacle.
He opened his inventory only to find that his sword was no longer there.
His sword, his only loyal companion, had shattered into pieces, left behind in another world that now felt like a distant nightmare. He sighed. Right now, he needed a weapon. Anything. Even a rusty kitchen knife would feel like a blessing at this moment.
He began to move, every inch of his movement accompanied by stinging pain from his wound that he hadn't properly treated yet.
The air around him felt heavy and suffocating, filled with the metallic tang of his own blood mixed with the sharp scent of sea salt seeping into the wood, and the musty smell of long-confined cargo.
Carefully, he crept closer to the makeshift cell, his movements as slow as a shadow creeping along the wall.
There, just a few meters from the captives huddled in fear in silence, a ronin guard slept soundly, his large and muscular body leaning against the cold iron bars.
His loud and rhythmic snoring sounded like the growl of a sleeping beast, his heavy breath reeking of cheap, sour sake, an aroma that pierced the nose and made Charles's stomach churn.
At his waist, wrapped in a dirty obi, was tucked a tanto, its handle wrapped in rough sharkskin gleaming faintly under a sliver of moonlight piercing through the cracks in the planks above.
There it is!
With his breath held in his throat, Charles began to approach. He removed his heavy boots, letting his bare feet feel the cold, damp, and slightly sticky wooden floor.
Every plank he stepped on seemed like it could creak and wake the sleeping giant. His heart pounded hard in his chest, its sound so loud in his own ears like war drums.
He reached the guard's side, the unpleasant smell of sweat and sake even more piercing to his nose. His trembling hand extended slowly, his fingers barely touching the air as he reached for the tanto's handle.
At that moment, the guard suddenly moved in his sleep, his head lolling to the side, making Charles freeze instantly, his heart feeling like it stopped beating.
However, he only muttered incoherently about money and women before resuming his louder snoring.
Euh… so cliché. Charles couldn't help but smile wryly.
With immense relief that nearly made him go limp, Charles continued his movement, very slowly drawing the tanto from its sheath. He could feel its cold and sharp metal in his hand, its slightly curved blade reflecting the moonlight with a deadly glint. He succeeded.
Next, he sneaked back under the main hatch, then with great effort climbed the rickety wooden ladder to the main deck.
The cold and salty night air immediately hit his face, feeling so refreshing after being in the stuffy hold.
Under the pale full moonlight, he saw the ronin on guard, numbering about twenty. Some were drinking and laughing roughly near the bow, others sharpening their swords with whetstones, the rhythmic scraping of metal faintly audible.
At that moment, his eyes fixed on the main mast of the ship, where a thick and sturdy rope like a man's arm held the billowing mainsail, catching the strong sea wind.
He immediately smiled.
With the tanto in his grip, he ran silently toward the mast, his body hiding in the shadows. With one strong and determined swing, he began slashing the rope.
SNAP!
The sound of the rope snapping was so loud like a thunderclap, followed by a deafening 'WHOOSH' as the massive mainsail broke free from its bindings.
The strong sea wind immediately hit the sail, making it flap wildly like a rampaging beast. The ship suddenly heeled hard to one side, causing the unprepared ronin to fall and be thrown about.
Barrels and cargo crates slid across the deck, creating perfect chaos and panic.
"WHAT HAPPENED?!" one of them shouted, his voice filled with confusion and fear. "A STORM?!"
It was amid that chaos that Charles suddenly emerged from the shadow of the main mast, his slender figure moving with unexpected speed.
A ronin who had just managed to stand stared at him in confusion, trying to find balance on the tilting deck.
Charles only smiled thinly, then snapped his fingers. A small but powerful explosion occurred right behind the ronin, pushing him forward, straight toward Charles's waiting tanto.
At that moment, the short sword's blade pierced his neck easily, and he collapsed without a chance to make a sound, his eyes still wide in shock.
Two other ronin who saw their comrade fall immediately attacked Charles in rage, their katanas drawn.
Charles didn't retreat.
He jumped onto a sliding cargo crate, then as the two ronin were below him, he snapped his fingers again. A larger explosion occurred between them, throwing them in opposite directions.
Charles landed lightly, then quickly finished them both before they could recover, his tanto's quick and precise stabs ending their lives.
The fight unfolded quickly and brutally. Charles moved like a ghost amid the chaos, using every element around him as a weapon. He kicked a pile of fishing nets to ensnare a ronin, then exploded it from afar.
He bounced off the ship's masts to avoid katana slashes, then countered with deadly tanto thrusts into the gaps in their armor.
Every snap of his fingers was a death sentence, every explosion a bloody exclamation mark. The heat from the explosions stung his skin, and the sharp gunpowder smoke filled the air, mixing with the increasingly thick metallic tang of blood.
He received several scratches and blows, but the adrenaline flooding his body dulled the pain.
Finally, after several minutes that felt like forever, the ship's deck fell silent.
Twenty ronin now lay lifeless on the deck wet with their blood.
The mainsail still flapped wildly above like a ghost flag, and the ship now bobbed aimlessly in the dark ocean.
Charles stood amid the slaughter, his body trembling with exhaustion, his breath gasping, white vapor escaping his mouth in the cold night air.
A bitter and wry smile etched on his face now stained with blood.
Damn… this is annoying fighting them one by one in my condition like this.
At that moment, the captain's cabin door on the upper deck was kicked to pieces.
Charles immediately looked toward the source of the sound and was startled for a moment, then smiled wryly again.
A gigantic figure stepped out, his large shadow covering the entire main deck under the moonlight. He wore full blood-red samurai armor, adorned with terrifying demon carvings.
In his hand, he held a nodachi so large its tip nearly touched the floor. His aura was so thick and threatening, full of experience from hundreds of battles. He was Captain Kageyama.
He stared at the scene before him—his dead crew and Charles standing alone amid them—with cold and emotionless eyes.
"Have you finished playing with my subordinates, little rat?" he growled, his voice deep and heavy like grinding gravestones.
The captain didn't run. He just walked down the stairs with slow and heavy steps, each one seeming to make the entire ship vibrate.
Charles, feeling his muscles scream in exhaustion, forced himself back into a fighting stance.
I already suspected there would be a last boss… so this isn't surprising. Charles stared at him coldly.
The captain swung his nodachi in a wide and fast horizontal arc.
Charles didn't try to parry it; he knew it would be futile. Instead, he slid low, letting the massive blade pass a few inches above his head with a terrifying 'WHOOSH'.
While below, he tried to stab the captain's thigh with his tanto. However, the captain only shifted his foot slightly, and the tanto only managed to scratch the leg armor, creating sparks.
Charles kept moving, running around the captain like a wolf, looking for openings, occasionally releasing small explosions to distract him.
However, the captain was so calm and unaffected. Every attack he launched was parried or avoided with efficient minimal movements.
After a while, Charles began to feel despair. Every attack he made seemed to hit only a steel wall. The pain from his old wound returned, and his breath became heavier.
He knew he couldn't win this way. He decided to take a risk.
As the captain swung his nodachi again in a devastating vertical slash, Charles didn't dodge. Instead, he advanced, letting the blade's tip graze his shoulder, creating a new deep and painful wound.
The sharp pain coursed through his body, but he managed to enter the captain's defense range.
With a shout full of rage, he snapped his fingers right in front of the captain's chest.
The explosion that occurred was immense. Both were thrown back.
Charles crashed hard into the main mast, making his already cracked ribs feel like they would shatter. He fell limp, his tanto slipping from his grip.
The captain was also thrown, his chest armor now cracked and blackened, and he looked slightly surprised for the first time.
With great effort, Charles rose, blood flowing heavily from his shoulder. He saw the captain also rise, now with clear anger radiating from his eyes. He knew he only had one more chance.
The captain charged forward, his nodachi raised high, ready to cleave Charles in two.
Charles didn't move. He just stood there, staring at the approaching death, and with his remaining consciousness, he snapped his fingers for the last time, targeting not the captain, but himself.
A focused and controlled explosion occurred throughout Charles's body. The explosion didn't hurt him; instead, he used it as a propellant, launching his body sideways at impossible speed, just as the captain's nodachi smashed where he stood, shattering the wooden planks on the deck.
While the captain was still trying to pull his sword embedded in the floor, Charles, now beside him, grabbed his tanto lying nearby.
With his last remaining strength, he jumped onto the captain's back and thrust the tanto with all his might into the gap between the helmet and neck armor.
The captain froze. A muffled roar escaped his mouth. He thrashed wildly, trying to shake Charles off his back.
However, Charles kept pressing the tanto deeper, twisting the blade with all his remaining strength.
At that moment, with a long rumbling sound, the gigantic body collapsed forward, lifeless.
Charles rolled off his back, lying on the deck wet with blood, staring at the starry night sky.
Damn… finally this ends.
Was it fun watching this?
You bastard developer!
…
The midday sunlight tried to penetrate into the labyrinth, but it was shattered by ice prisms, creating pillars of pale light that didn't warm.
The rays fell onto the ice surface, bouncing and dazzling the eyes, as if the labyrinth itself was trying to repel intruders with its painful brilliance.
Haoyu walked in front, his large shield raised high, creating a long shadow on the packed snow.
Behind him, Isabelle stepped warily, her fingers never far from her bowstring, her sharp eyes scanning every suspicious corner.
Louis, the agile one, moved at their side, occasionally hopping lightly to avoid ice cracks, his breath sounding steady and calm.
And at the very back walked Keqing.
She moved in silence, her footsteps as light as falling feathers, but each tread had the firmness of one accustomed to leading. Her cloak hood was pulled low, covering most of her face, leaving only her tightly pressed lips and pointed chin.
Behind the hood, her amethyst eyes didn't see the beauty of the light refraction on the ice walls.
Suddenly, the sky above the labyrinth crevice changed. Thick and heavy dark clouds, gray like old iron, rolled quickly covering the sun.
The previously dazzling light vanished instantly, replaced by gloomy shadows creeping down from the ice walls, turning the crystal corridor into a somber ghostly hallway. The air temperature dropped drastically, and the wind began to whisper in a sharper tone.
Haoyu, Isabelle, and Louis continued walking, unaware of the subtle atmospheric change beyond the loss of light.
However, Keqing stopped.
Her steps halted not because she was tired, but because of a scream. Not a physical scream that could be heard by ordinary ears, but a mental scream piercing directly into the center of her consciousness.
PING!
It was Aetheresthesia!
This passive ability had activated without warning. As if someone had just struck a giant bell right beside her ear, sending a shockwave of information flooding her brain.
That sixth radar caught a disturbance—an active ability, a killing intent hidden behind a stealth veil—within a fifty-meter radius!
She jolted hard, her eyes closing tightly as if trying to escape the burning ache from within.
Keqing winced, her hand trembling slightly as she resisted the urge to clutch her throbbing head.
The mental noise was so loud, so crude, forcing her to see what was invisible.
Reflexively, driven by pain and survival instinct, Keqing's eyes glanced sharply backward, to an empty point in the air, behind a protruding ice pillar.
Someone was there. Someone was activating a skill!
From the empty point she stared at, the air vibrated and split. A thin, dark, and deadly sword shot out from nothingness, aimed straight at Keqing's neck at a speed exceeding a blink.
The attack was silent, without the whoosh of wind, an execution designed for total silence.
Haoyu and the others were still stepping forward, unaware that death was lunging at their companion behind.
But Keqing was the Yuheng. Speed was her domain!
Although her head still throbbed from the information overload, her body reacted faster than her conscious mind.
With a motion so efficient and minimal, she drew her sword from the sheath at her waist.
TING!
The clear and sharp sound of clashing metal broke the labyrinth's silence.
Keqing raised her hand, placing her sword blade in the enemy's attack path at a perfect angle. She held off the deadly attack as if she were merely holding a door against a gentle breeze.
The attacker, now visible as a figure clad in all-black clothes and a hood covering his face, seemed surprised.
The momentum of his deadly attack was stopped just like that!
Knowing his first attack had failed completely, the man didn't waste time. He didn't try to press his sword.
Instead, he used the repelling force from the clash. He leaped back, performing a beautiful and acrobatic backflip in the air.
His body spun, his cloak fluttering silently, and he landed back on the ice with the softness of a cat.
However, his feet didn't stay still. As soon as his boot tips touched the ground, he propelled himself forward again like a released spring.
Second attack!
His sword blade targeted a defensive gap at Keqing's left ribs, the thrust designed to pierce the lungs.
Keqing didn't raise her sword this time. She didn't need to. Her sharp amethyst eyes had read the attack's trajectory even before the man landed.
She only tilted her body. Half an inch. No more.
She twisted her shoulder slightly to the right, letting the enemy's blade pass right beside her face. The cold wind from the slash brushed her cheek, cutting a few strands of her loose purple hair, but the steel didn't touch her skin.
The hooded man, realizing his attack missed by a hair's breadth, immediately sensed danger. He saw Keqing's eyes—cold, analytical, and unimpressed. He knew he had lost the element of surprise.
He immediately canceled his attack, pulling his body back with several quick jumps backward, creating a safe distance between them.
His boots screeched on the ice as he stopped, his breath slightly held behind his face-covering cloth.
Keqing stood upright again. She didn't pursue. She just observed her opponent from bottom to top, her gaze sweeping every detail—the way the man held his weapon, his foot stance, and his breathing pattern.
Silence descended again, but this time the silence was tense, like a violin string pulled to its breaking point.
"You're skilled," the man said suddenly.
His voice sounded young but hoarse, muffled by the cloth, but there was a tone of genuine admiration there. He lowered his sword slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment.
"That reflex... not that of an ordinary adventurer. What's your name?"
Keqing just remained silent. Her face stayed flat, giving no emotion whatsoever. She had no obligation to answer questions from a shadow that tried to kill her.
At that moment, the sound of the metal clash finally reached the ears of Haoyu, Isabelle, and Louis.
They turned simultaneously, their eyes widening as they saw Keqing standing with her sword drawn, facing a strange figure in the ice corridor.
"Enemy!" Isabelle shouted, her hand immediately drawing an arrow and aiming.
Louis had already drawn his dagger, ready to charge.
The three of them immediately assumed combat stances, forming a belated but solid defense formation, their faces tense with sudden adrenaline.
Seeing that he was now outnumbered and had lost momentum, the hooded man showed no fear. Instead, his shoulders shook lightly. He laughed.
"Hahahaha..." His laughter echoed off the ice walls, a dry sound out of place.
He straightened his body, sheathing his sword with a casual motion. He looked at Keqing once more, as if wanting to etch the face behind the hood into his memory.
"The welcome attack is over," he said, his tone light as if he had just given a bouquet of flowers. "Consider it an introduction greeting."
He stepped back, his body beginning to fade, as if stepping into an invisible fog curtain.
"Let's meet again... Lady."
And at that moment, the man disappeared.
However, for Keqing, he didn't truly disappear.
PING!
Her head throbbed in pain again. Her Aetheresthesia screamed once more, telling her that the vanishing skill was active right in front of her. She knew exactly where the man was, she knew where he was moving away to. However, she chose not to attack. She let him go.
She lowered her sword slowly, letting the pain in her head become a reminder for her.
…
A/N: I don't know how much I've improvised in this story. I hope it doesn't get more chaotic. But oh well... the rice has become porridge.
Btw, I'm still expecting comments!
If you want to read the 7 advanced chapters with a faster update frequency than the webnovel, you can read it on my patreon whose link is below:
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
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