Evening, Ithaca Port. The Dominator.
Vice Admiral Deep Sea Howl Constantine stood on the foredeck with a cigarette between his lips. He drew in a deep breath, then blew a smoke ring as he watched the officers from another naval warship head straight for a lavish manor in town, surrounded by the port town's administrators.
His Excellency Owen, the Demigod, was among them. He had gone ashore with the rest.
Just then, one of Howl's men ran up and said indignantly, "Captain, those navy men have gone too far! They're off to enjoy themselves in town, but they ordered us to guard the Black Throne and the prisoners..."
"Was that His Excellency Owen's order?" Howl flicked his cigarette away and watched it fall into the sea before asking calmly.
"Yes..." the man said, clearly unwilling to accept it.
"If it's a Saint's order, we have no grounds to object," Vice Admiral Deep Sea said evenly. "Just do your jobs. Once this mission is over and we're away from those navy men, we won't have to put up with them anymore."
"I suppose that's all we can do. I'll assign men to patrol the Black Throne so those bastards can't find another excuse to give us trouble!" The man sighed, then added regretfully, "Shame that beauty Lydia got away. We could've had some fun with her."
As for Lady Dragon's Might, Gwen, now that she had entered the Saint's bedroom, he no longer dared entertain any fantasies about her.
Vice Admiral Deep Sea Howl glanced at his first mate. He showed nothing on his face, but inwardly he scoffed. From his investigation, Lydia might have the most formidable background of the three aboard the Black Throne! Laying a hand on her could have far more terrifying consequences than touching the so-called