Chapter 165

Chapter 165:  The Dead Don’t Speak (3)

The dead tell no tales.

A famous saying among pirates, and also the name of the largest colosseum in the Calav Archipelago.

Over the past few decades, countless people who violated pirate law had been dragged into this place, and most of them met their end becoming ornamental skulls.

However, today—at this very moment—the scene unfolding was drastically different from anything the pirates had ever witnessed before.

“Hee-eek, hee-eek... We did it, Mikkelsen!”

“You worked hard, brother! I seriously thought I was gonna die!”

Beryl and Mikkelsen shouted while looking at each other with tearful expressions.

In front of them lay the corpse of a Kreveion, its face cleanly pierced through, blue blood and brain matter streaming down onto the ground.

This bizarre scene stirred up a wide range of reactions from everyone watching.

First of all...

‘Those punks were just whining for nothing.’

Hardin rubbed his nose bridge with a satisfied grin.

“W-Wait, they were that strong too?”

Jerry, who had been quietly observing, stared with his mouth agape.

“How is this even possible?”

“Has there been a prisoner recently who managed to take down a Kreveion?”

“Since I got here... I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Then what’s gonna happen to those guys now?”

The pirates in the stands looked at one another, stunned into silence.

“Uh, uh-oh.”

But the one most flustered of all was the clown, who had been hyping up the crowd just moments earlier.

Standing on the platform in the arena, he began backing away slowly, turning his head to look at a man behind him and asked,

“Um, Vice-Admiral sir... what do we do now?”

A man with a large X-shaped scar across his face, dark skin, and a fierce expression.

This was Rackham, the second-in-command of the Calav Archipelago and the man responsible for the current situation, scratching his forehead while making a strange growling sound.

“Grrrrrr...”

The dead tell no tales.

The system was simple: throw prisoners into the arena, unleash monsters, and if they survived, they were set free. It might sound merciful for pirates, but...

It was just that—a system in name only. In reality, it was no different from a public execution.

Not a single person had ever escaped that arena in one piece in decades, and most of them had become victims of the Kreveion.

But now...

‘Not only did they survive, they killed the Kreveion? And so brutally at that?’

Of course, Rackham himself had the confidence to defeat a Kreveion.

After all, he was the Vice-Admiral of the Calav Archipelago, and once a mana user who had reached the level of a 3-star master.

Still, the idea that some ragtag nobodies who rolled in from outside had pulled that off? That was an entirely different matter.

Because...

 The map was stolen?! Get it back right now, you bastards!

 Aagh! I’m sorry, Admiral! P-please stop throwing stuff!

It was because that halfling inside... had laid hands on something that must never be touched in this place.

To avoid provoking the Admiral’s wrath—and remembering the ordeal Rackham had gone through during that incident—there was no way they could let those guys walk free, no matter what.

Staring off into the void, Rackham let out a deep sigh and said,

“What else? Get the next monster ready.”

“The next monster?”

“There must be something prepped. Bring out whatever’s available.”

As Rackham barked in annoyance, the clown scratched his temple awkwardly, then grabbed the magic device again and shouted,

“A-haha! Looks like today's guests are more capable than we expected! But hey, the festival’s only just begun! Now that things are heating up, let’s dive straight into the next battle!”

As the clown forced the energy back up again, the pirates started murmuring once more.

“There’s another monster?”

“This is a first…”

And then the clown’s voice rang out again.

“Next monster, come oooon out!”

Everyone in the arena turned their eyes toward the massive iron gate that had shut again.

But strangely…

“……”

No signal came, even after some time had passed.

“Uhh, hmm…”

As the clown scratched his head with an awkward expression, a pirate rushed over to Vice-Admiral Rackham and said,

“Vice-Admiral, sir, looks like it’ll take a bit more time.”

“What?”

“Well… this sort of situation doesn’t happen often, you see.”

Rackham let out a sigh and shook his head, then said,

“Haaah… fine, just tell them to hurry up. Say it’s on my orders.”

“Ah… Yes, sir!”

While they scrambled to prepare a new monster, chaos spreading all around them—

Only one man remained completely at ease.

And that person, of course…

“Huaaahm. Hey, wake me up if something happens.”

Was Hardin.

“Huh? You’re gonna sleep here?”

“So what? Looks like it’ll take a while to get ready anyway.”

“Even so, come on, sir! Please get up!”

Beryl and Mikkelsen tried to stop Hardin, who had sprawled out and laid down.

‘Let’s see how long he can keep playing it cool.’

Watching this scene from the stands, Rackham’s face twisted with irritation.

---

---

After that, the same scene repeated over and over in the colosseum.

“Fellow pirate brothers, get hyped! This time, it’s an Ogre Shark!”

As the clown host introduced the monster the pirates had hastily dragged out—

 Grrraaaaargh!

“Brother Beryl! There’s a lot of them this time!”

“Uwaaahhh!”

Crash! Crackle!

Even as they flailed about dramatically, Beryl and Mikkelsen somehow managed to beat the monsters into bloody pulp.

“This isn’t the end! Now comes the Jellyfish Orc horde!”

“Noooo! Please, stop already!”

“Heeeeeeek! Heeeeek! Mikkelsen! Don’t run awaaay!”

The Jellyfish Orcs, said to be several times stronger than your average orc, were torn to pieces by the two men’s attacks.

“This… this isn’t the end! Next up is… the terrifying, giant Wolfclam!”

“What the hell is thaaaat now?!”

“D-Don’t push me, you bastard!”

Even the giant Wolfclam, clad in a shell harder than iron, eventually met its fate—once again—at the hands of those two.

Just how many times had this ridiculous routine repeated?

“Heeeeek! Heeeeeeeek!”

“I-I can’t go on! Young Master, please help us already!”

Completely exhausted, Mikkelsen and Beryl collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.

“Look, you two are doing just fine on your own. Why do you keep trying to drag me into it?”

Hardin, still lying on the floor, calmly picked his ear with a relaxed face.

And also…

‘Better to just keep my mouth shut.’

Even Jerry, who’d been sulking the whole time, seemed to have come to his senses now. He sat politely on his knees, waiting with a solemn look on his face.

Faced with this unbelievable and bizarre sight, the clown—now drained of all enthusiasm—spoke in a deflated voice.

“O-One more… are there any monsters left?”

At that, the pirates who’d been pushing monsters into the arena frowned, crossed their arms in an X, or shook their heads.

“There’s… nothing left to send in.”

“No more. No way.”

“Just kill us instead.”

On top of that, the more this went on, the more deflated the atmosphere among the pirates in the stands became.

“Don’t you think… we should just let those guys go?”

“Are we even allowed to do that?”

Sweat beading on his forehead, the clown turned to the side and asked,

“Vice-Admiral, sir… what do we do now? At this point, don’t we have to let them go?”

According to the rule of ‘The dead tell no tales’...

No matter the case, if someone survived the arena to the end, they were to be spared—that was the principle.

“B-But they’re with the guy who stole the map, right? We can’t just let them go…”

What if they released them only to get beaten to death by the Admiral later?

But ignoring pirate law would be a serious problem too...

Rackham’s eyes darted back and forth.

Just then—

“Ahoyyyyyyyyy!”

A piercing shout suddenly rang out from beyond the iron gate where the monsters had emerged.

“What the hell is that now?”

“Wait, there’s more monsters…?”

Beryl and Mikkelsen’s faces contorted in despair.

“T-That shout just now…”

“…No way.”

Tension instantly spread across the faces of the pirates.

At that moment—

BOOOOOOOM!

The iron gate crumpled inward and was blown completely off, soaring high into the sky.

“…Huh?”

Everyone’s gaze followed it upward.

The massive iron gate, launched skyward like a toy, shrank into a tiny dot… then began to plummet straight down—

KA-THAAAAAAM!

With a thunderous crash, it slammed back into the ground.

‘I-I almost died.’

‘What the hell was that?’

Just a little less luck, and they would’ve been crushed under that hunk of iron—Beryl and Mikkelsen’s bodies trembled uncontrollably at the thought.

Naturally, their eyes turned toward the space beyond the shattered gate.

“Rackham! I told you to wrap this up quickly—what’s taking so damn long?!”

“M-My apologies, Admiral! It’s just that… those guys were a lot stronger than we expected!”

Standing there was a woman dressed in pirate garb, appearing to be in her mid to late twenties.

Her navy-blue braided hair fell all the way down to her waist.

She had dark skin, a sharply defined beauty, and a prominent teardrop mole visible even from afar.

She wore a large cloak draped over her shoulders, and just by looking at her…

‘She’s the top dog here.’

‘Is that woman… the pirate boss?’

Beryl and Mikkelsen nodded without realizing it.

“Can’t even handle cleanup properly, huh.”

With a scoff, the woman began striding toward them.

“You lot… you’re the trash who stole my grandmother’s map, aren’t you?”

Crack! Crack!

She cracked her knuckles with a rotten smile on her face, walking step by step.

A blue glow radiated from her eyes, and the pressure made her hair and cloak whip around in the air.

Then—

“B-Brother… what the hell is she…?”

“……”

Beryl, Mikkelsen, and even Jerry behind them all turned pale as sheets.

With each step she took closer, their entire bodies trembled, goosebumps rising across their skin.

The mana emanating from her, the overwhelming presence—they all knew instantly, on pure instinct.

‘That woman… is insanely strong.’

‘Way stronger than the Young Master…’

The woman they called Admiral wasn’t just anyone they’d encountered before.

No—she was stronger than any lifeform they had ever seen.

Then Jerry, trembling, muttered out,

“The Pirate Empress Redrose. She’s the ruler of the Calav Archipelago… and a 5-star mana user.”

“F-Five star?”

“…What?”

Beryl and Mikkelsen’s jaws and eyes dropped wide open.

A 5-star mana user—basically the highest level a mana user could possibly reach.

Of course, there were levels of strength even within that tier, but regardless, such beings were overwhelmingly powerful beyond imagination.

If it were a knight, they’d be called a Sword Saint. A mage would be an Archmage. Other professions had their own grand titles as well.

In fact, throughout the entire Fabian Empire, there were fewer than twenty 5-star users in total.

‘I-I’m screwed.’

And now, the woman standing before them… was one of them?

At that moment, Redrose spoke.

“Clench your teeth. You laid hands on that—so you won’t be dying an easy death.”

And all she did… was slowly walk toward them.

It felt almost as if a massive monster were standing right in front of them.

Was it the sheer pressure crushing down on them?

“Mikkelsen!”

“Yes, brother!”

Beryl and Mikkelsen locked eyes.

Thunk!

They spun around and grabbed Jerry by both arms.

“Hey! You thief! You take responsibility!”

“This was all him! We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“L-Let go! What the hell are you two doing?!”

They shoved him forward and immediately dropped to the ground, bowing in apology.

Seeing this, the woman’s lips curled into an even more vicious sneer.

“You bastards… and now you think begging for forgiveness is gonna save you?”

“Yes! That’s right, ma’am!”

“If you just deal with him, everything’ll be fine! Honestly, we even came here planning to hand him over to you, so it’s not exactly a lie—”

But conversations require both sides to be reasonable.

“You lot don’t have a shred of loyalty.”

“P-Pardon?”

The woman reached to her waist and pulled out a whip, which surged with a fierce blue glow.

And when the energy peaked—

Whirrrrrrrip!

She cracked it forward.

“She’s coming!”

“Uwaaaaagh!”

Mikkelsen, Beryl—and even Jerry—screamed and scattered, panic plastered across their faces.

“Hup.”

Just then, Hardin, who had been quietly observing from the back, suddenly stepped forward.

‘What? What the hell?’

‘He hasn’t lifted a finger this whole time—what’s he doing now?!’

Mikkelsen and Beryl’s eyes went wide, as if they were about to split open.

At this rate, that absurdly powerful whip would rip Hardin to shreds.

In the midst of this critical, life-or-death moment—

Clack!

Hardin suddenly pulled out the quartz skull fragment hanging from his neck and held it forward.

“In the name of Daphne, I have come to uphold the pact of Lord Redhoop!”

Ssshwaaack!

Perhaps it was thanks to those words—

The whip, which had been about to strike Hardin's face, vanished like a lie.

“…Who the hell are you?”

At the same time, a chilling expression spread across the face of the woman known as the "Admiral" standing across from him.

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