Chapter 410 The Wolf's Maw Closes

Dead silence.

It was as if a mute button had been pressed on the entire crew; an eerie silence descended upon the deck of the Flying Fish Oil Barrel.

The only sounds left in the air were the howling sea breeze, the rapid panting of terrified men, the gush of blood pumping from open wounds, and the agonizing wails of a rogue who had lost his arm.

Less than five seconds had passed. Even the most pessimistic sailor on the ship could never have imagined such an outcome.

To them, this should have been the most ordinary, run-of-the-mill raid.

Kill every breathing creature on the opposing ship, strip it of all valuables, haul the loot back to their own deck, and perhaps, if the captured vessel was in good condition, tow it to the black market for an extra payout.

Wasn't that exactly how adventurers on the high seas operated?

Otherwise, how could the meager rewards from commissioned quests possibly feed so many adventurers on board?

They needed to earn a little extra on the side.

Perhaps in the beginning, they had felt guilty over the innocent blood on their hands. But as the blood-stained gold coins dropped into their pockets one by one, their consciences had gradually numbed under the catalyst of alcohol, eventually melting away into the depths of the rippling sea.

Having sailed for years, every sailor on the pirate ship had been thoroughly steeped in this life. They were all prepared to die at sea.

Every one of them had imagined, more than once, how they would meet their end.

Maybe they would suddenly wake up one day, start saving money, and retire peacefully to enjoy their twilight years. Maybe they would be dragged into the water by a monster in the dead of night, buried silently in the ocean. Or maybe their hearts would be pierced by an enemy during a boarding skirmish, dying a heroic death for the crew.

They could even discuss their own deaths at the tavern table without the slightest psychological burden, mocking hesitant crewmates to show off their own fearless bravery.

But right now, when the shadow of death truly descended alongside the stench of blood...

...facing the Grim Reaper's scythe raised high above their heads and ready to fall...

...their reactions were far less composed than they had imagined.

Fear was spreading through the crowd.

It had all happened too fast.

In less than five short seconds.

The absolute core of the pirate crew—eight Class Holders in total, including the captain.

Those "big shots" who wielded mighty powers beyond ordinary men, who were surrounded and revered by the sailors, who reigned supreme on the sea.

Right now, they were like live fish on a chopping block, pinned down and slaughtered without the slightest ability to resist.

A careless sailor who had forgotten his weapon in the cabin had temporarily turned back before the pirate ship closed in; by the time he returned to the deck, there were already four decapitated corpses lying on the boards.

And the instigator of all this was that abyssal figure standing in the center of the deck like a living nightmare, wielding the Dark Gray Straight Sword, a twisted wolf beast manifesting behind him.

Under the impact of [Night Mother's Gaze], their already fragile and crumbling psychological defenses collapsed completely. Fear surged like a tidal wave, swallowing the last of their reason.

"Haa... Ahhhhhhh!"

A shrill, rooster-like scream suddenly erupted from the crowd.

A burly, thick-bearded man with his collar wide open to reveal robust muscles was now howling like a cowardly goblin that had just witnessed something horrifying. He threw away his weapon and fled toward the edge of the deck. The high-pitched shriek coming from his mouth was so pathetic it was hard to believe it belonged to such a massive brute.

His scream acted like a spark igniting gunpowder. The crew members, who had been frozen in place by the slaughter and gore, suddenly exploded into motion. Panicked and helpless, they scattered in all directions like cockroaches.

Even the reprimands and attempts to block them by the two surviving Class Holders were entirely useless.

A cold, sharp gaze swept over the rioting crowd, pausing slightly on the only two adventurers left on the field who still retained their combat strength.

Xia Nan slowly exhaled.

The howl of a wolf echoed in his ears once more.

Next, it was time to harvest.

...

Staring from afar, Bourne watched as Grass Snail—the young spellcaster he had heavily invested in and viewed as the future of the crew—was decapitated right in front of him.

The fighting spirit and excitement that had filled "Oily Hand" Bourne were instantly replaced by wild fury and hatred, perhaps mixed with a tiny trace of belated grief.

Five seconds. Even though he had already leaped onto the boarding plank, he had more than enough time to rush back to the deck and pin Xia Nan down to prevent further casualties.

But just as he took his first step, the sharp, piercing whistle of air tearing behind him forced him to turn back around.

"Chi-bang!"

The scimitar, still glowing with residual light, slashed fiercely through the air. It abruptly deflected the arrow that should have pierced straight through his heart, leaving a small gash on his shoulder before falling into the sea.

He cast a gloomy gaze into the distance, toward the direction the arrow had come from.

With pale silver hair fluttering in the wind, the half-elf ranger named Leda maintained her drawing posture, the bowstring still visibly vibrating from the violent recoil.

At the same time, her right hand deftly brushed over the quiver on her back, her fingers already pinching another wooden arrow.

The battle had begun.

Surprised by the aggressive actions of the young, black-haired adventurer on their ship, they were equally astounded by the exaggerated effects he had achieved.

No matter how cautious the Silver Claw Osprey team was, they were, after all, a professional squad with rich adventuring experience. They knew very well that, whether out of their duty as escorts or for their own safety, they absolutely could not stand idly by.

The team leader, Nick, gave a slight hand signal, and the three of them moved out in perfect tacit agreement.

Their target, naturally, was the fierce-looking pirate boss who had already charged onto the boarding plank.

"Roar!!!"

The half-orc Guka's body swelled up. Like a frenzied beast, he wielded his massive Double-Bladed Battle Axe and charged straight at Bourne.

The half-orc's movements had absolutely no technique to speak of; it was purely an explosive burst driven by raw physical Strength.

Normally, when facing such a crude and straightforward enemy, Bourne would have a hundred ways to end the fight within five exchanges.

But right now, his heart was tied to his crewmates behind him, and he had no desire to tangle with the half-orc.

Hum—

Azure light coalesced upon the edge of his blade once more. With a swing, a "Sky-Leaping Slash" was fired toward Guka, intending to force him back with the attack.

To his surprise, facing the sharp arc of light shooting toward him, the half-orc showed not the slightest intention of dodging or retreating.

He directly raised the giant axe to guard his chest. The tribal totem patterns etched on the blade glimmered, forming a pale red, translucent shield over its surface.

[Beast Mark Blessing]!

It was an inherited combat technique from the half-orc tribes. Even though it hadn't been trained to Mastery, it still granted Guka considerable defensive power in this moment.

Meeting the incoming azure blade light, the shield shattered instantly, but it absorbed the vast majority of the damage.

The residual force landed on the axe's surface, leaving a visible slash mark. The kinetic impact merely caused the half-orc to pause for a fraction of a second before immediately resuming his original speed.

"Damn half-breed bastard!"

Bourne cursed under his breath. With no time to think, he flipped his wrist and slashed his scimitar down toward his side.

"Clang!"

The sharp screech of colliding metal suddenly rang through the air.

Nick, the leader of the Silver Claw Osprey squad, had already drawn the twin short swords from his waist and was now crossing them to block the scimitar from above.

His arms trembled violently from exerting too much force, his chiseled face was taut, and his pupils constricted slightly under intense concentration.

Even though his flank ambush had been spotted, the highly experienced middle-aged man didn't panic. Even with physical attributes far inferior to his opponent's due to the gap in Class Level, he stubbornly held his ground, forcing the enemy to stay put.

On the other side, accompanied by heavy and thunderous footsteps, the half-orc had already rushed over, swinging his giant axe.

At this moment, the situation on the battlefield had completely reversed.

Exceeding almost everyone's expectations, the immense power Xia Nan displayed in that split second had forced the pirate attackers into an incredibly passive position.

Meanwhile, morale on the Black Gull soared. Under the command of Captain Gregory, some sailors even took the initiative to set up boarding planks, attempting to help the lone Xia Nan on the other ship.

On the deck behind him, the agonizing screams of his crewmates and the sickening tearing of flesh rang out incessantly.

It made Bourne feel immensely agitated.

He exerted a sudden burst of power through both hands, using his advantage in Strength to press Nick backward.

At the same time, his right leg shot up, shifting his center of gravity back as he kicked his opponent ruthlessly in the chest.

Using the recoil, he pushed himself backward, breaking free from Nick's control while simultaneously dodging a heavy cleave from the half-orc at his side.

Seizing this hard-won moment of respite amid the siege, he quickly turned his head and looked toward the deck of his own pirate ship.

Then, he witnessed the gnome rogue in his crew, lying on the ground, decapitated by a single sword strike.

And surrounding his body were three headless corpses, including Grass Snail.

Blood rushed to his head!

"Dammit! Ahhhhhh!"

With saliva stringing between his teeth and his eyes bloodshot dark red, Bourne roared furiously. The rage burning in his heart seemed ready to set his very body on fire.

Finding suitable adventurer teammates, especially long-term and permanent ones, was never an easy task in the Southern Archipelagos.

Out on the vast, isolated sea, living in close quarters within the confined space of a cabin, and facing the risks and riches of their voyages—

teammates needed true trust to safely leave their backs to one another.

Bourne had fought tooth and nail in the Southern Archipelagos for years, paying countless prices to finally build up this foundation.

A full seven Class Holder members.

But in just a single breath of time, more than half had been lost, including a rare Spellcaster upon whom he had placed his highest hopes.

This drove the man known throughout the archipelagos as Oily Hand to the brink of madness.

He wanted nothing more than to rush back to his deck right then and there to fight Xia Nan to the death.

But in the next second, the whistling sound of an arrow tearing through the air ahead dragged his consciousness back to reality.

The half-elf Leda had seized the gap when her teammates separated from the enemy to loose her second arrow.

Bourne's class, the [Azure Blade Warrior], was a branch of the Warrior profession tailored for marine environments. Its advantage lay in naval combat.

His heavily enhanced Agility, far exceeding that of an ordinary person, allowed him to walk on a swaying deck as if on flat ground. Furthermore, the class's inherent Feat enhancements for light weapons like scimitars made him fight like a fish in water within the confined spaces of a ship.

Normally, even when facing the combined siege of these three people, Bourne wouldn't feel the slightest bit of panic.

His Level 4 rank and the strength of the [Azure Blade Warrior] class were enough for him to easily lock them in place.

And at the same time, his crewmates would use the opportunity—while the opposing ship's core defenders were pinned down—to launch a fierce assault on the remaining enemies.

But right now, faced with Xia Nan's merciless, high-speed slaughter, the one who needed to panic was Bourne himself.

"Haaah!"

Howling like a madman, he cleaved the incoming wooden arrow in half with a single strike.

With the surging waves below, a bizarre watery mist suddenly erupted across his skin.

The air grew humid, and tendrils of pale white mist rose from his pores, wreathing his entire body.

The innate combat technique unlocked upon successfully advancing to [Azure Blade Warrior]:

—"Wave-Mist Body".

It was a state-type combat technique with a massive fifteen-day cooldown. The condition for its use was that the surrounding area had to be more than seventy-five percent water.

Its effect was to slightly boost his Strength and Agility for five minutes after activation, while imbuing his attacks with special water-ripple damage.

Long since trained to Mastery, its incredibly powerful effects and lengthy cooldown made "Wave-Mist Body" Bourne's most deeply hidden trump card.

Unless he was driven into a life-or-death corner, he would absolutely never use it in public.

Even the crew members who had followed him the longest didn't know about this best-kept secret combat technique.

But right now, with rage blazing in his heart and the team he had painstakingly built on the verge of total collapse, he couldn't care less.

He unleashed his full power.

But right at that moment...

"Thrum..."

The crisp, melodious sound of a lute suddenly drifted down from above.

Delicate leather boots dangled leisurely in the air, and the feather on a soft cap seemed to sway gently in time with the music.

The Halfling Alton sat in a relaxed posture on the wooden ladder leading to the crow's nest beside the mast.

His twin daggers remained tightly sheathed at his waist, but a delicate, miniature Lute now rested in his arms.

The lute's melody rippled, echoing across the sea.

It seemed to contain some invisible power, causing everyone in the Black Gull faction—including Xia Nan on the other ship—to suddenly feel a surge in their spirits.

An inexplicable energy welled up from within their bodies. Stepping and swinging their swords became easier and more forceful, as if they had broken free from some invisible, heavy shackle.

This also caused morale to soar within the Silver Claw Osprey squad, who had been steadily retreating and accumulating wounds under the assault of Bourne's "Wave-Mist Body" state.

Combining their strength, the three of them locked the completely frenzied Bourne in place.

"Shhh-rip!"

The scimitar, flashing with brilliant azure light, left sharp afterimages in the air.

Bourne's hair was a mess. Wounds on his arm, flank, and calf constantly bled as he moved, dyeing his clothes a dark crimson.

Under his Perception, his vitality was slowly draining away with his blood, while the three adventurers ahead of him were suddenly reinvigorated by the lute's melody.

It made him daze out for a split second.

No one knew if this veteran adventurer—who had roamed unchecked through the Southern Archipelagos for years—was currently regretting his refusal to heed the young crewmate he had brought out from a primitive tribe, who had suggested they retreat.

Nor did anyone know or care what this wretched middle-aged man was thinking as the situation on the battlefield completely collapsed.

"Fucking die, ahhhhh!"

He merely roared with bloodshot eyes, wildly swinging his scimitar with zero technique to vent the fury in his heart upon the enemies ahead.

And then, the roaring abruptly ceased.

A shadow loomed.

Accompanied by a long, chilling, and high-pitched wolf howl, the pitch-black, twisted phantom of a Winter Wolf appeared behind Bourne as if it had teleported.

Snick—

The Wolf's Maw closed.

The man's head vanished from his neck.