Whale Herder Sword

Arthur walked out of the tavern and headed straight for the blacksmith shop.

The battle was about to begin, and lacking a reliable weapon was a fatal mistake.

He took a piece of parchment from his breast pocket and recorded his oversight:

"October 18, 1601, Age of Sail. Always prepare your weapon before every battle; a sharp Edge does not run out like gunpowder in a musket."

Muskets were useful, but reloading was too laborious; with a half-minute reload time, the enemy's scimitar would have already severed your head.

Fortunately, the people from the Black Devil Order did not seem to have started their operation yet.

Arthur's keen intuition told him that danger was ever-present, and it would be best to stay far away from Blue Bay Island.

In his perception, danger was like the Sword of Damocles, hanging perpetually above his head, though it had yet to fall and threaten his life.

There was still time to replenish his equipment, so he had borrowed 10 gold coins from Arena.

At the blacksmith shop where he intended to purchase a broadsword, the young man from the North was still forging; his youthful body seemed tireless, his entire energy poured into the ore and metal.

"Oh! My dear blacksmith, I need a handy longsword to deal with dangerous enemies."

Arthur did not know the blacksmith's name, so he could only express his enthusiasm through his tone and wide-open arms.

Rad Lee looked up at him, every word he spoke sounding as if it took his full effort: "I have a name. It is Rad Lee."

"The broadsword you bought last time didn't work well on the ship? It seems your strength isn't as great as you imagined."

"Very well! My dear Rad Lee, I advise you to stop soon and get some proper rest."

Arthur weighed the weapons already crafted in the shop and offered a well-intentioned warning: "Blue Bay Island is about to become a brutal battlefield."

"If you exhaust too much strength, you might end up hung in the smithy, just like a pirate caught by the navy."

Rad Lee frowned, the frequency of his hammer strikes slowing down as he asked, "You aren't a pirate?"

"I am different from them. I am a lord ennobled by the Tudor Dynasty, possessing official status."

Arthur tested two swords, but was not satisfied; neither met the quality he envisioned for a fine blade.

They could not compare to the "Dark Griffin" sword custom-made for Arena by the Stuart Family, nor could they be the second-rate goods on display.

"Respected Lord Arthur! Do you have some news? Have you sensed the scent of blood in the sea breeze?"

A large man walked out of the smithy, as tall as a palm tree, with golden hair, ruddy skin, and thorn totems covering him from his fingertips to his neck.

"Greetings, Lord Arthur. I am Rad's uncle, Galen Lee."

Galen Lee's physique was incredibly robust, and Arthur subconsciously activated his Spirit Vision, seeing a circle of crimson energy swirling around him.

It was fervent, burning, and mingled with the scent of destructive gunpowder.

"Uncle Galen, someone is about to stir up a storm on Blue Bay Island, perhaps as early as tonight.

I have come to find a handy weapon to avoid being at a disadvantage during the fight."

"Is that so?"

Galen Lee scrutinized Arthur, slapped Rad Lee on the head, and his rugged voice echoed through the smithy:

"Rad, go get the Whale Herder Sword and see if it suits Lord Arthur."

"Right."

Rad Lee walked into the smithy, and after a bout of rummaging, clattering, and banging, he emerged carrying a longsword wrapped in wax-sealed sharkskin.

The exposed hilt featured deep grooves, a necessary anti-slip treatment for a nautical sword.

The style of the crossguard resembled the graceful arc of a whale leaping out of the sea, with a small figure carved into the whale's head.

Galen Lee stroked the sharkskin scabbard as if caressing the skin of a passionate tavern dancer and said:

"The Whale Herder Sword is a style specially crafted by our family; the unique whale-herding crossguard represents the forging style of the North."

"This Whale Herder Sword is a gift for Lord Arthur, in return for your generosity in sharing this news with us."

Arthur took the Whale Herder Sword from Galen's hand and drew it from the sharkskin scabbard; the wide, curved blade was better suited for hacking.

The biting cold iron reflected the brilliance of the moonlight; such a fine sword was a rare find.

He took out his coin purse to pay for it, but Galen Lee's large hand pushed the purse away.

"This is a testament to our friendship! Lord Arthur, I do not wish for you to defile it with gold coins."

Arthur's expression flickered, and he put the coin purse away. "Many thanks, Mr. Galen, Mr. Rad. Please leave Blue Bay Island as soon as possible, or find a place to hide."

His hair stood on end, as if someone had placed a needle against the back of his neck; danger was closing in.

"Of course! Please take care, Lord Arthur."

Galen Lee gathered a pile of weapons, tossed them into the smithy, shoved Rad Lee inside, and slammed the thick wooden door shut.

With a thud, a heavy object fell and crashed behind the wooden door.

Arthur's mouth twitched; it seemed he had worried in vain, as the others were far more adept at dealing with danger than he was.

Not far away, the three members of the Black Devil Order gathered in a tavern to discuss their plan.

Cautious Baker, frantic Simon, and the brawler Buck, three elites of the Black Devil Order, were preparing the sacrificial ritual for the Great Devil.

Simon licked the little finger of his left hand; while a normal person's finger has three segments, his was missing the tip.

"The ritual requires hanged corpses, the higher the quality the better; common pirates are the absolute trash."

"The stronger the desire, the better. Special corpses will satisfy Him more. We need at least eighteen; if we fall short, we'll fill the quota ourselves."

Cautious Baker felt that indiscriminate killing carried high risks, as it was easy to run into transcendents, and he was merely a Sequence 9 Rogue.

Facing high-intensity combat sequences like Swordsmen, Knights, or Warriors, he could easily be wiped out.

"How about we target the bartenders at the tavern? They have many identities and know many secrets."

The more secrets one knows, the more complex and intense the desires hidden within their hearts, making them excellent sacrifices.

Simon glanced at Arthur in the distance and whispered, "I'll go prepare the ritual site. Buck, you go kill Arthur. Baker, you go seal off the harbor."

Cautious Baker felt the corners of his mouth curl up involuntarily; his task was the simplest.

Brawler Buck revealed a bloodthirsty grin and rotated his shoulders to warm up: "This guy has quite the reputation, why specifically kill him?"

"A retainer of Stuart, a believer of the Church of Light, a major pirate of the near seas, and now a titled lord."

"He isn't in the transcendent sequence himself, yet he possesses transcendent power. His surging desires will bring Him immense pleasure!"

Buck snorted with contempt: "Satisfy Him? Will He really bestow upon us what we want?"

Simon shrugged and said: "We are members of the Black Devil Order, after all; it is merely an equal trade."

"That means the more people we kill, the more rewards He will grant!"

Buck's voice grew impassioned, his hands crossing to produce the cracking sound of grinding knuckles.

"Theoretically, yes, but what the reward is depends on His mood."

"Then let's begin!"

Simon glanced at the distant Blue Bay Private Tavern; with that lord presiding over Blue Bay Island, the ritual would be completed smoothly.

Brawler Buck took large strides toward Arthur in the alleyway, his gait like that of a street hoodlum, his posture arrogant yet making little noise.

Arthur was walking on the road toward the tavern when the Moth's intuition began to scream a frantic warning:

Danger! Danger! Danger!