The Third Name

The pirates' gazes drifted involuntarily toward the man standing in the middle of the scorched earth.

He wore a plain white robe, his golden hair hanging loose, the Golden Scepter in his hand glinting with a heavy, dark gold beneath the morning light.

Annus. The true second-in-command of the Rocks Pirates, a monster whose strength rivaled Rocks himself.

If he took over Hachinosu... the pirates calculated silently, only to find that it did not seem so bad after all.

Annus might have been cold, but he never slaughtered indiscriminately. He had lived on Hachinosu for so many years that the pirates around Heaven-Piercing Tower all knew the rules—so long as they did not provoke him or trouble those under his protection, he would not even spare them a second glance.

A boss like that was far better than Ochoku, who was temperamental and could draw his blade over a single wrong word.

Yet Annus did not look at them. He did not even cast so much as a glance toward the crowd. He had turned his head, speaking quietly to Diumil beside him.

Diumil listened with his head lowered and nodded from time to time. His face, wrapped in black bandages, revealed no expression, but the slight angle of his body showed that he was responding seriously.

Diumil was talking about that group of pirates.

The last time he had been transporting gold and was ambushed by Ochoku, Garling, and the third man, the Ark Maxim had been held back by thorns. While he fought Ochoku and Garling on deck, more than a dozen Pirate Cult members below had been thrown into disarray when a group of reckless pirates charged in from the flank.

Those people were neither Winged Heavenly Soldiers nor reinforcements arranged by Diumil. They were simply pirates