Pirate Kingship
Chapter 52 - 51: The Pyrotechnician and the Bayfolk’s Countermeasure

Chapter 52: Chapter 51: The Pyrotechnician and the Bayfolk’s Countermeasure

Byron and his group aimed to catch the gradually converging Privateering Alliance off guard. To prevent them from regrouping and sending a Second Order extraordinary to ambush them, they hadn’t dared to rest for several consecutive days, working overtime to launch a series of assassinations. Finally, today, they achieved their initial goal and brewed the "Blood of Metamorphosis." Though the night was still long, they decided to take a break for a day.

To recuperate and consolidate their strength, they first needed to heal Guardian Knight Bruh, his right-hand man. They would wait for the Privateering Alliance to let down their guard before striking back with a surprise attack! It was more efficient and safer.

Moreover, after Byron summarized the intelligence gathered from his previous victims, he knew that the privateer captains had all entered Iron Anchor Bay to join forces with a certain captain-councilman, to support him in the "vote" and "combat" and propel him to the throne of the North Sea Military Governor. Subconsciously, he began to search the Sailing Logbook for the vessel registration information Gus had obtained from Sheriff Weber. He prepared to pick a suitable unfortunate soul, infiltrate the Privateering Alliance, and offer his "loyalty" to that councilman aligned with the York Family!

"It’s good to have connections in high places," Byron mused. "The intelligence Gus collected was comprehensive: it included the arrival times of privateer ships, personnel numbers, major pirate leaders, and even copies of their wanted posters. It saved me a lot of trouble."

As they reached an intersection, the three of them cautiously slipped into separate alleys humming with nightlife to make their retreat. Even a Hunter from the Wilderness Sequence wouldn’t be able to track them in such a complex olfactory environment.

Byron snatched all the grilled squid from the hands of the two men and instinctively entered Oriole Street, filled with the scent of perfume, eating as he walked.

"Delicious!" he exclaimed. "I never thought squid could be so addictive one day."

The side effects of the "Holy Grail of Blood" were beginning to manifest. However, unlike Bloody Eye Salman’s "Gluttony" and Magic Mirror West’s "obsession with cleanliness," Byron’s side effects were noticeably milder. More accurately, the "Silver Law" had already taken effect simultaneously!

Initially, he had plundered Herman’s ability, the "Holy Grail of Blood," through a blood duel ritual. This granted him the protection of the laws and greatly weakened the negative effects of the forbidden knowledge. Consulting the explanation in the Sailing Logbook, Byron found that his own solidified symptoms somewhat resembled a variation of the Uncanny Valley effect.

Which emotions it produced solely depended on the proportion of "tentacle" and "human" elements: Human—Humanoid—Indescribable entity with tentacles—Purebred octopus (squid, etc.). The first two tended to elicit affection, while the latter two induced appetite. In fact, when others saw an Indescribable horror and their SAN values plummeted, Byron merely wanted to indulge! His affection for tentacles also gradually shifted towards neutral traits such as "boneless softness" and "a light and flexible body."

Of course, humanoids and demonic beauties remained his favorites—if such magical species truly existed overseas.

The law system represents the "Anchor" that stabilizes oneself, and forbidden knowledge represents the "Sail" that breaks out of the safety zone and rides the winds and waves. While improving the sails, one must also tighten the anchor on oneself to avoid capsizing in the storm. Moreover, the ’menu’ stated that as long as the ’Crimson Holy Grail’ ritual could be successfully performed, all previous side effects would be further attenuated.

Now, aside from immortality, Byron had an additional motivation to obtain the "Crimson Holy Grail" ritual.

"Huh?"

At that moment, Byron suddenly smelled a very fresh and strong scent of blood, which set off alarm bells in his mind. Looking up, he saw a figure approaching on the bustling Oriole Street, resembling a street magician. A silver full-face mask covered their face, topped with a high top hat and draped in a wide cloak; their physique made it difficult to discern their gender. However, the dignified artistic temperament emanating from within, coupled with a faint, anxious smell of sulfur, suggested a distinguished graduate of the Holy Silver Empire Vinaia Art Academy.

Is it them?

This appearance and aura instantly reminded Byron of someone whose name, like his own, had recently risen to prominence in Iron Anchor Bay—the Gunpowder Artist. It was said that this artist had mastered various explosives to the point of artistry, and their assassinations were like artistic performances. They even sent invitations to their victims, inviting them to enjoy the fireworks display together. Usually, after the performance ended, the scene was spotlessly clean, leaving nothing but ash. This was far more high-profile and arrogant than the elusive Mad Hunt.

When Byron subconsciously activated the Sailing Logbook hidden in his right eye but found he couldn’t extract any information about this person, he immediately realized something. If the other party’s Class wasn’t higher than his own, they had to be wearing some kind of Miracle capable of shielding or even altering their personal information! More likely, it was a combination of both superior Class and such an item.

Others might not smell the blood on them, but after conducting the Ritual · Holy Grail of Blood, I’ve become increasingly sensitive to the smell of blood. I am certain they must have just killed many people!

Fortunately, this individual merely glanced at Byron, not penetrating the Cognitive Revision disguise he wore. The two passed by hurriedly.

Byron rushed back to the Rosemary Inn to rescue his Guardian Knight.

Meanwhile, the Gunpowder Artist, ignoring the beckoning courtesans, strode to the end of Oriole Street by the sea. Sheriff Weber, who had previously provided intelligence to Gus and Byron, was already there, his old walnut pipe in his mouth, seemingly having waited for a long time.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Weber’s initial surprise turned to realization when he saw the whalebone emblem peeking from her sleeve. He exclaimed, "Your Highness—"

But the other’s look quickly silenced him. Shedding his usual carefree demeanor he displayed before Gus, he hurriedly handed over a stack of papers and said reverently, "I have already prepared the intelligence you wanted, without alerting either the Parliament or anyone in the upper echelons. I discovered that yesterday, a large number of privateer ships from Hightins suddenly gathered near the ’Goddess of Vengeance,’ owned by council member Redbeard Edward. It’s obvious that they are preparing to support his rise to power."

As the Gunpowder Artist began to flip through the intelligence, the Sheriff couldn’t help but cautiously add, "Your High... cough, Sir, are they our next target? Is it not a bit too radical to physically eliminate those ’Military Governor’ contenders behind closed doors? The current Military Governor, ’Child Guardian’ Dennis, is ill. This has led to a precarious situation; the Military Governor position might slip from Bayfolk hands. But this completely contravenes the legislative spirit of the Pirate Code!"

Obviously, even the Golden Palm Trading Company had noticed that something was amiss in Iron Anchor Bay and had made itself scarce. Byron, an outsider, had pieced together the conspiracy of the privateer captains using bits and pieces of information. How could the leadership of Iron Anchor Bay, established there for a thousand years, fail to sense that something was amiss? They were clearly ready to take direct action. No, considering how active the Gunpowder Artist had been recently, it was likely they had already taken action.

However, when the Sheriff mentioned the current Military Governor, ’Child Guardian,’ was unwell, a barely detectable sorrow flashed in the Gunpowder Artist’s eyes. There was obviously some inside story that outsiders did not know. As for the "legislative spirit" he had mentioned, she scoffed, "The value of the ’Iron Laws of Sovereignty’ is to maintain the interests of the king and the ruling class, not the opposite. If the law cannot serve the king, then there’s no point in its existence. The fools from Hightins, two hundred years ago, were forced by a group of Great Nobles to enact some ’Magna Carta.’ It placed the king under the law, tarnishing a Crown that had been inherited for centuries. Authority was greatly limited domestically, and the forces of other Dissenters consequently rose. The Yorks were able to replace the Lancasters because the Great Nobles with inheritance rights were too powerful, weren’t they? If I were that ’Mad King’ of Lancaster, I would have long ago purged all contenders eligible to vie for the throne. After all, I am not the Tribunal; I don’t need irrefutable evidence. Just suspecting someone of plotting is enough! Besides, I am now the free pirate ’Gunpowder Artist’; what connection do I have with the officialdom of Iron Anchor Bay? Just killing without burying, isn’t that enough?"

After saying all this with murderous intent, her tone softened slightly. "With the disappearance of my father, the Pirate King of the North Sea, we Bayfolk who still hold to our original beliefs have lost our greatest support and confidence. As a princess of the Bayfolk, I can’t afford the risk of making a wrong judgment. The ’Military Governor’ position is not worth longing for. But the secret treasure, guarded by generations of Bayfolk, is intrinsically linked to whether the Bayfolk can rise again, to my father’s whereabouts, and even to the lives and deaths of everyone on this island. It must not fall into others’ hands!"

With the dawn of the Great Nautical Age, the Bayfolk were gradually declining. But the elders were always chanting an old legend, or more precisely, a very old prophecy: "In the Empire Era, the Bayfolk chased wild deer in the forests of the Eternal Night Peninsula. Centuries later, they will pursue the entire Silver Continent. They conquered the continent by force, only to be conquered by a Heretical Religion; the glory of the North Bay Folks subsequently sank into the deepest depths of the ocean. But one day, they will be reawakened by blood and Blaze! My right eye will witness it all."

The first two-thirds had already come true. Many people believed that the last third would be no exception. Because that is a prophecy from the "God of Prophecy, Authority, and the Mad Hunt"!

With this prophecy, it was no wonder the Gunpowder Artist held a grudge against Hightins, the Bayfolk nation that knelt before the Church. Her father, the "Whale Hunter," disappeared because of this prophecy and the future of their people; the Bayfolk of Iron Anchor Bay could afford no more risks.

Even without Byron’s ability to discern hidden truths, it was very clear to them: for the impregnable Iron Anchor Bay, a new Military Governor whose interests might not align with theirs was the greatest vulnerability! They had decided to bypass all potentially infiltrated official departments and seize the initiative.

"Who says the weaker party can only passively await the judgment of Fate?" she declared. "Whoever dares judge me, I shall send them to meet their ’Creator’ first! We are Bayfolk, we are Pirates, we are the children of Woden, the ’God of Prophecy, Authority, and the Mad Hunt.’ To slay our enemies and plunder like the wind is our true nature. All Great Pirates who dare covet the Military Governor position are courting death. And, I will always remember the last words my father said to me before he left."

The Gunpowder Artist looked up at the layered black sails in the anchorage of Iron Anchor Bay and stated, each word deliberate, "As long as you have the courage to bear the consequences, how can a king be bound by mere rules? Go make the difficult decisions, kill the child inside you, and become a... true adult!"

If Byron had been there, he might have silently criticized her assessment of her uncle. Yet, he would also have had to admit that this heir to the throne—though her circumstances were not much better than his own—might not yet possess the power of a king, but her aura alone was enough to command attention.