The Sea Battle Ends

A wild roar burst from his throat.

Facing the three swift sword strikes coming straight at him, Zack, after "transforming," abandoned his initially agile fighting style. He directly ignored the longsword about to strike him, whirling his scimitar into a storm as he charged straight at Evan.

He fought with the posture of someone ready to trade blow for blow, as though he had become a second Black Bear Billy who knew only brute force, determined to perish together with Evan.

This response was utterly unreasonable for an experienced swordsman, yet Zack carried it out naturally. Clearly, while that strange potion had granted Blood Anchor Zack immense power, it had not come without side effects.

"Blade Wave" surged toward him.

Evan could not compete with him in fearlessness. He swiftly withdrew his sword and shifted his footing, drifting backward like a small boat riding the waves. It looked incomparably dangerous, yet he remained completely at ease.

Both of them were "monsters" whose physical fitness far surpassed ordinary humans. The limited space on the deck could no longer confine them as they chased and fought like two nimble apes.

"Whoosh!"

"Whoosh!"

After a brief clash, the two climbed the ropes and leaped onto the "yard" of the main mast one after the other. Their weapons rang as they battled in a tangled mass, like a fight atop a balance beam—a true "meeting on a narrow road"!

Up here, ordinary people would struggle even to stand steadily, let alone fight. It was not only because their footing was narrow, but also because the ship drifted with the waves on the open sea, causing the yard to sway constantly.

But how could a battlefield Evan had chosen himself possibly fail to favor him?

Although the main mast's yard was thick and long enough to hold at least twenty people, Zack's agility and reaction speed had inevitably been weakened while his strength had multiplied. The narrow footing perfectly restricted his movements.

For Evan, who had mastered White Sail Swordsmanship and excelled most at Ship Combat Art, this was practically a battlefield tailored specifically for him. Nothing described it more aptly than "like a fish in water."

Master-level White Sail Swordsmanship granted Evan not only the ability to use secret techniques, but also monstrous balance!

At this moment, the four levels of yards above and below the mainmast, along with every sail rope, had all turned into Evan's stage.

His ape-like figure flickered above and below, his attack range and angles repeatedly catching Zack by surprise. His longsword turned into a streak of lightning that constantly swept across Zack's body. In mere moments, the once-imposing Blood Anchor Zack was covered in wounds and bleeding without stop.

Yet Zack seemed completely incapable of feeling pain. Even with sword wounds all over his body, his expression did not change in the slightest. He continued to howl arrogantly:

"Gah gah gah! Kid, are you scratching an itch for me? Stop running! Come here obediently and let Uncle Zack twist off your head!"

Evan answered with even fiercer Sword Light. Rather than waste words, he preferred to make his opponent shut up with his sword. Moreover, the unique terrain had created an inconveniently mobile "target," allowing him to display his swordsmanship to the fullest.

Yet even if he had nearly fallen into an absolute disadvantage where he could only passively take blows, obsession kept Zack's hatred firmly locked onto Evan. He had no intention at all of jumping down from the main mast to find a battlefield more favorable to himself.

Instead, he clung to the rigging and kept climbing after Evan.

Perhaps in his now exceedingly simple mind, he firmly believed that as long as he caught Evan once, he could swiftly finish him off.

Zack chased Evan all the way to the yard supporting the topgallant sail at the very top of the main mast, at least four stories above the deck.

His eyes now held only Evan, with hatred locked at MAX. He paid no attention whatsoever to the unending screams and cries for help coming from the pirates below the main mast.

"Ah—!"

"Captain, save me!"

"Bang—bang—"

Indeed, although Captain Joseph was not particularly strong in combat, he was still a qualified teammate. After Evan lured away the clearly deranged Zack, he began gathering his subordinates and directing the crew to divide and surround the remaining pirates, crushing them with superior numbers.

If Zack and Krulu, those two experts, had not led the charge and disrupted their formation at the start of the battle, his command abilities would never have brought them into such a perilous situation. If Evan had not intervened, the battle might have ended already—only Joseph would have been the loser.

Now that he had seized the opportunity, how could he not wash away his humiliation?

The two men on the yard stared at each other as they began their "final" duel.

The sea breeze stirred the hems of their clothes, making them look every bit like masters facing off. In reality, however, the situation was exceedingly dangerous.

There were winds and waves at sea at all times. Ordinary people would stagger even while standing on the lowest deck, let alone atop the mainsail, nearly twenty meters in the air, where the swaying would only be more severe.

Even experts like Evan and Zack, who had nearly reached the peak of Apprentice Knight, would suffer irreparable injuries if they fell from here.

Just then.

A gust of sea wind swept past, and Zack's footing slipped slightly. He nearly lost his balance and fell. He hurriedly grabbed a rope and steadied himself.

"Haha, Blood Anchor, are you afraid of heights? If you are, you can go down first. I won't laugh at you!"

"Kid, you're courting death!"

Even as a veteran Pirate Captain, Blood Anchor had never done anything as insane as dueling atop a mast. But he was equally confident in his Cesi Scimitar Art and God Blood. Even in a place like this, the victor would certainly be him.

Because in the brief time they had spent talking, the sword wounds on his body had already begun to close. Perhaps they would heal completely in a few more minutes.

"Ha—!"

His blood-red cloak flared, and Zack stepped forward to strike first.

Evan did not yield in the slightest. With no reservations, he unleashed all his swordsmanship to the fullest. No matter whether the other side still had hidden cards, no matter that Data Vision had already indicated the collection of the opponent's data was complete, Evan wanted only an exhilarating battle.

Blade and sword clashed. With their physical fitness evenly matched, a normal contest would inevitably make swift victory difficult. Evan had also noticed the abnormality on Zack's body: Granulation tissue writhed within his wounds, and he recovered at an astonishing speed.

But on this special battlefield, Evan held the initiative. He would never give Zack the chance to recover calmly.

The fierce struggle in the air continued for another two minutes. The shouts of battle below had gradually faded. Slightly out of breath, Evan glanced at the position the two occupied on the yard and thought to himself, The outcome has been decided!

He hesitated no longer.

"Swish—"

Evan surged forward. A brutally sharp thrust forced Zack to withdraw his scimitar and defend. Yet Evan did not flexibly change moves as before. Instead, he drove forward with his feet, pressed his longsword against Zack's scimitar, and slammed into him with his whole body.

When one foot suddenly stepped into empty air, Blood Anchor Zack finally realized that Evan had unknowingly forced him to the end of the yard.

Below him was the hard deck, twenty meters down.

"No—!"

Watching Zack fall, Evan silently said in his heart, Sorry, but I still used a move outside of swordsmanship.

Then again, during battle, the sword in one's hand was swordsmanship, the footwork beneath one's feet was swordsmanship, and the wisdom in one's mind was also swordsmanship. Who could say the planet's gravity was not a kind of swordsmanship as well? Right?

"Bang!"

The tremendous crash startled everyone on the deck. The crew, whose battle had just ended, had not yet had time to pay attention to the fight between the two experts when they saw the invincible and wildly arrogant Blood Anchor Zack fall from the main mast and smash heavily onto the deck.

His limbs twitched and twisted as blood sprayed wildly, like a smashed tomato.

There was no doubt that the victor was Evan, on their side.

As Zack fell, Evan used the ropes for support and followed close behind, landing lightly on the deck.

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

On the deathly silent deck, the footsteps of Evan's boots drew the reverent gazes of every crew member.

From top to bottom, every member of the Yellow Swan stood at attention and saluted Evan. He did not evade it, accepting it calmly.

Unlike in his previous life, when modest gentlemen were fashionable, this era was different. As the greatest contributor to this battle, he naturally deserved the corresponding honors and spoils.

At this moment, Blood Anchor Zack was covered in blood, with who knew how many bones broken, yet he still struggled stubbornly to rise. Evan slowly walked to within three steps of him and met his venomous, crazed gaze. He remained silent and said nothing.

After thinking for a moment, Evan retreated two more steps, drew his short musket from his waist, and sent a scorching lead ball into Zack's forehead amid his final terror and resentment.

"Bang—!"

The instant Zack fell.

A crimson mist thick with the stench of blood suddenly rose from his body. It rapidly spread, enveloping a three-meter radius of the deck. Whether iron swords, ropes, or wooden planks, everything beneath the blood mist emitted a sizzling sound of corrosion.

"Ah! It's witchcraft!"

"Don't get close! Run!"

The watching crew scattered far away with a clamor. Looking at Evan, who had already moved away, they became even more awestruck.

What they did not know was that Evan quietly wiped cold sweat from his brow as well. He secretly rejoiced that Grandpa Leo's teachings were indeed profound: even after gaining an overwhelming advantage on the battlefield, one had to learn to play it safe and beware of an enemy's counterattack when delivering a finishing blow.

When the sea breeze dispersed the blood mist, everyone saw Zack's shriveled, hunched corpse left behind. They felt a wave of nausea. Was this grotesque thing really the Blood Anchor Zack who had just displayed such unstoppable might?

Evan had some guesses. This fellow had somehow acquired a mysterious potion that could stimulate the body's potential and grant bizarre self-healing abilities.

But he did not know that such potions, which forcibly stimulated the body's potential, absolutely could not be used often. That pale white, emaciated body from before was certainly connected to the potion. And after bidding farewell to the world in such a gruesome manner, it was simply sinister beyond belief!

"Mister Evan, are you all right?" Captain Joseph, tall and powerfully built, showed none of a captain's reserve as he approached Evan and bowed respectfully.

"I'm fine... hiss!" Only now, as his mind relaxed, did Evan discover that he was not completely unhurt. There was a bloody cut beneath his ribs and another on his left arm. Sweat had gotten into them, making them sting fiercely.

"I brought medicine for wounds. I can treat them myself. Captain Joseph, don't worry about me. You still have plenty of work to do next."

Following Evan's gaze, Captain Joseph saw the wrecked Yellow Swan and the black-sailed Blood Anchor drifting farther and farther away beside it due to having no one at the helm. He did not insist on caring for Evan, merely asking him to return to his cabin and rest.

Then Captain Joseph began issuing orders.

The crew aboard the Yellow Swan each carried out their duties: gathering their comrades' bodies, clearing the deck, repairing the ship, and assigning men to board the Blood Anchor and inventory the spoils. They were busy, but orderly.

At this moment, the sun had begun to slant westward. Golden sunlight cast long silhouettes from the two ships on the sea, drawing the curtain on this naval battle.