At sea.
The Undertow Pirate Crew's two single-masted sloops were slowly moving away from Bloodsail Ship Island.
They had already been out of port for two days.
The sky was blanketed by gray-white clouds, and the sea wind roared.
The wind swept across the sea, stirring up even greater waves.
The bows cleaved through the waves, trailing two streaks of fine white spray.
The sails on the masts billowed in the wind, lending the ships greater power.
Today, the ships were moving far faster than before.
The pirates busied themselves aboard the ships. Some hurried to stow clutter away in the cabins.
Others watched the sky, ready to furl the sails if rain began to fall or the wind grew even stronger.
In the midst of torrential rain and fierce gales, even these pirates did not dare keep their sails raised. One careless mistake, and the ships would be in trouble.
Amid the sea wind, Charles stood by the railing and looked into the distance.
He said, "The weather lately is truly fit for killing."
Bruce asked from beside him, "Master, will the Garrote Pirate Crew come after us?"
Charles turned and looked in the direction of Ship Island, smiling. "They'll definitely come. This is an opportunity."
"Is everyone ready for battle?"
Bruce nodded heavily. "The weapons are all ready, and everyone knows we'll be fighting the Garrote Pirate Crew soon."
Charles nodded.
This time, he had made ample preparations: nine Tide Warriors and over seventy ordinary pirates.
If the Garrote Pirate Crew dared come, he would swallow them whole.
Although the Garrote Pirate Crew had more men, in Charles's eyes, they were merely a dish laid out before him.
They were now far enough from Bloodsail Ship Island, well beyond the safety zone marked out by the island.
Charles