Arabella

On a merchant ship sailing the East Blue, a teenage boy with messy black hair leaned against the deck railing with his back to the sea, seeming to be asleep.

The boy wore a black high-collared coat over a white undershirt. Strangely, he had three belts around his waist. The top one was normal width, the one below was slightly narrower, and the third was only finger-width. One end of the three belts was connected together, while the other hung loose. He wore black pants and black shoes. (See the cover for details.)

He was dressed almost entirely in black, but the white undershirt and his fair face gave him a distinctive air.

Most eye-catching of all were the twin swords resting diagonally across his legs, unable to hang from his waist while he was leaning there.

Though he was young, he gave off an unapproachable feeling, so no one else was nearby. That was right—this was Werther, who had already been at sea for five days.

After learning his master's survival skills, Werther had set out with a bag. Unlike those survival shows from his previous life, he had not brought only a knife. He had brought plenty of things: fire-starting tools, salt, several seasonings, and a few medical supplies such as needles and tweezers. He had only brought a small number of those, because Werther had occasionally discovered that once he activated Lightning Mode, his wounds simply would not become infected. They would only get mildly inflamed, then heal within a few days.

When Werther had traveled by sea before, he could still play on his laptop. Even if there was sometimes no internet, he could watch downloaded movies.

But in this bizarre world of pirates, where technological development had taken such strange turns, there was truly little to do at sea. Werther was bored out of his mind.

He stood up, hung his twin swords back at either side of his waist, and headed for the captain's cabin.

When he reached the captain's cabin, Werther found a tall, thin middle-aged man and asked,

"How many more days until we reach Arabella? I'm in a hurry," Werther asked the middle-aged man calmly.

"Soon, sir. We should reach Arabella sometime this afternoon. Please, An, don't worry; we've been sailing straight toward Arabella," the middle-aged man answered politely, his face covered in smiles.

Never mind the one hundred thousand Beli reward—just looking at the boy before him, a child so young traveling alone to a deserted island, carrying swords and spending money so freely... In this era where pirates were everywhere and human lives were as cheap as grass, the middle-aged man had long learned who he could provoke and who he could not.

After hearing his answer, Werther turned around and went back to the deck to bask in the sun.

After arriving in the pirate world, Werther discovered that some things here differed from the anime he had watched before.

As for people, ordinary lackeys generally did not actively seek death like they did in anime by provoking powerful enemies. Thinking about it, most pirates and Marines sailing the seas had lived for more than twenty years. How could they possibly have the intelligence of a few-year-old child, constantly courting death only to get beaten senseless? At least, Werther had never seen it happen.

Ever since coming to the pirate world, Werther had kept a low profile whenever possible, except at the Sword Hall, because he had once been too weak. Nor had he been like other transmigrated protagonists, encountering some powerful enemy as soon as he appeared and then making a comeback. Werther's motto was: Keep your head down, grow stronger, don't get cocky.

Werther now possessed some strength. Through diligent training, he had already become a swordsman.

That afternoon, Werther was sent to Arabella.

Looking at the deserted island before him, Werther felt that he might be staying here for a long time. He would not return to the Sword Hall until he felt strong enough. His master's exact words had been, "When you feel strong enough, come back. I'll tell you all the Sword Hall's secrets."

Sitting in a small boat rowed by merchant ship sailors, Werther landed on the island.

After going ashore, Werther was somewhat lost and did not know what to do first. After thinking for a while, he decided to familiarize himself with the terrain. With that in mind, he walked toward the island, which was almost entirely covered by forest.

Walking through the forest, Werther looked around at the trees on both sides. Whether because of the climate or some other reason, forests in the pirate world had sparse trees even when they covered vast areas. Only vines clung to the trunks. The grass beneath his feet was lush and green, but all of it was short, as if it could not compete with the trees for nutrients and could only reduce its height.

After being bored for several days, Werther was enjoying the forest scenery when he suddenly heard the sound of wind behind him. Every hair on his body stood on end.

Even though Werther lunged forward at top speed and drew both swords in midair, once he landed, he felt numbness at his lower back, followed by searing pain. Having never suffered such an injury before, Werther felt as though the pain might send him into shock.

The ambusher standing before him was a massive lion, about two meters tall and more than four meters long. Red blood dripped from one of the sharp claws on its front paw.

It seemed Werther's reaction had not been slow. If he had not lunged forward, even if he had not been ripped into two pieces, he would have been reduced to a pile of rags.

The lion looked at its prey, licked its paw, then stared at Werther with even greater greed.

Holding a sword in each hand, Werther blamed himself for being careless. Such a huge lion, and he had not even heard it moving. He truly was a flower raised in a greenhouse.

Though he was facing a crisis that could cost him his life, Werther felt something strange—excitement, exhilaration, and even happiness? A smile unconsciously formed at the corner of his mouth, and even the wound on his lower back no longer seemed so painful.

Without waiting for the lion to pounce, Werther activated Lightning Mode. His body turned pale blue, while his swords shone silver-blue. He charged straight at the lion.

With his attention highly focused, Werther felt that Lightning Mode had made his neural reactions unbelievably fast, and his body's speed was no slouch either.

As he rushed before the lion, he slashed at the paw swinging toward him. With a swish, he effortlessly cut off most of the lion's front leg. The lightning-covered sword gave off a sizzling sound as it cut through flesh. The sword in his other hand did not remain idle either, striking at the lion's other front leg. Before the lion could react, both front legs had left its body. Deprived of its forelegs, the lion's head dropped toward the ground. Before it could fall, Werther crossed his hands and slashed both swords from left and right at its head.

With a sizzle, the once-majestic lion had become three pieces. Its head had been cut into two halves, while its body was one piece. One severed front leg lay nearby, while the other had flown far away from the force of the blow, lying alone in the forest.

Werther looked at the red and white fluids covering the ground in an enormous amount and could not help vomiting. It would have been better if he had not started. Once he did, he felt even worse. The sweetly fishy smell of blood made his stomach churn harder, and he kept vomiting.

Although Werther vomited until everything spun around him, he did not leave. Instead, he sat on the lion's headless body and forced himself to adapt.

Wanting to become strong was not just about having strength and skill with a sword. Without a powerful heart, he would sooner or later taste defeat.

After adapting for a long time, he finally stopped vomiting. He picked up his bag, checked his direction, and left. Werther had not forgotten what his master taught him: after fighting in a forest, if a large amount of blood was spilled, it was best to leave immediately. If not for adapting himself to the smell of blood and the gruesome sight, Werther would have left long ago.

As he walked, Werther thought, I've already seen a head being cut apart. Should I cut one next time? Or slice open the belly? That might be even more gruesome and could train my visual nerves.

Finding a large tree, he climbed up and sat on a trunk wide enough for two people to lie side by side. Werther took out his bag, retrieved a needle, sterilized it over a fire, wiped it clean, threaded it, then used a mirror behind him to begin stitching his wound.

During this stitching session, Werther realized one thing: stitching a wound hurt far more than being clawed or cut, and he had to force himself to be ruthless. It was truly agonizing.

After stitching up his wound, Werther jumped down from the tree and continued wandering around. To his current physique, such a wound was no longer a serious injury. In a few days, only a scar would remain.

This time, Werther was much more alert. Though he was not ambushed again, he encountered an elephant.

This elephant was about the same size as elephants from his previous life, so it met a tragic end. Werther, with Lightning Mode activated, chopped it into pieces.

After this even bloodier battle, Werther still felt uncomfortable, but he did not vomit as happily as before.

From the pile of elephant remains, Werther found a large, well-placed piece of elephant meat and continued familiarizing himself with the terrain.

After wandering for a while longer, Werther found a good place while carrying the piece of elephant meat, which had been treated to remove its bloody smell.

It was a cave. The entrance was only one meter wide and two meters high, but the interior was quite spacious, more than twenty square meters. It was practically a natural stone house.

Werther entered the natural stone house and found traces of human habitation inside, along with some tattered clothes and other things. However, they had been left there long ago and were probably abandoned by Marines.

After throwing out the junk, he found a large tree that looked suitable and cut it down with one stroke. Then he activated Lightning Mode and began trimming it with his swords. He made several water-storage barrels and a meat rack from the tree. Finally, he made a wooden door for his temporary stone house, increasing its concealment, keeping out wild beasts, and allowing himself to rest better at night.

Thinking of rest, Werther began searching through the forest again. At last, he found a thick dead tree, cut it down with another stroke, and continued trimming it as before. This time, Werther made a dry, low bed and a pillow.

After carrying everything he had made back to the stone house, the sky had already turned red. It was evening. He took out his black pocket watch and checked the time. It was five o'clock.

Werther sped up. He first secured the wooden door over the cave entrance, making the opening smaller, then lit a fire outside and began roasting the elephant meat. He sprinkled on seasonings from time to time, and before long, an enticing aroma filled the air. As a quasi-foodie, how could he not know how to cook?

After dinner, Werther entered the stone house and lay on the wooden bed. Thinking over his shortcomings and gains from the day, he drifted off to sleep.