But over the past few months, most of the towns along the island's coast had been reduced to ruins.
Cocoludo might not have been as big as the larger islands, but it was no small island either.
Once the middle-aged man received word, it took time for him to get from the Royal Palace to the towns and villages. And these pirates never stayed to fight him; they fled as soon as they had seized their loot and captives.
For the past few months, he had been like a firefighter, constantly racing around Cocoludo to put out fires.
The pirates were like sharks drawn by the scent of blood. Drive off one wave, and another came, seemingly without end.
Yet he knew that all the pirates who had come over these past few months were still small fry.
Once they had taken most of what they could, stronger pirates would arrive to strip him, the king, of everything he had.
That was right. He was Cocoludo's king, Coco Ludo Charles.
For all Cocoludo's prosperity, everything it earned each year went toward the heavenly tribute.
In fact, he had foreseen this day coming several years ago.
But there was not a single
thing he could do. The heavenly tribute increased year after year, and he had already developed Cocoludo's sources of income to their limit. Even so, when the last payment came due a few months earlier, he had failed to pay it in full.
He had sought help everywhere, even casting aside his dignity as a king to go to Mary Geoise and plead with the Five Elders. But they had driven him away without even letting him through the door.
At the thought of Gus, not far from here and now completely turned into a pirate base, a shadow