NOVEL NEXT Chapter 33: Chapter 33
A burst of orange-red light exploded with a deafening roar, leaving everyone dazed as the shockwave rippled through the air. The sheer force sent several sailors tumbling across the deck like rag dolls, and a few unlucky ones were thrown overboard.
Fortunately for them, years spent living at sea had honed their swimming skills. Though they hit the water hard, they wouldn't drown so easily.
But no one was paying attention to those sailors now. All eyes were on Ethan and Sean.
"Fire-attribute magic stone equipment!"
"Wait… that kid actually has two pieces of magic stone equipment?"
"No, remember that translucent shield that blocked the captain's attack earlier?"
"So… that's three?!"
"Impossible! Since when did magic stone equipment become so common in the Sea of Calm?"
Ethan stood a short distance away, staring at Sean, who had been blasted backward by his fireball. The pirate captain lay sprawled on the deck, groaning in pain but still alive.
Ethan frowned. "This guy can really take a hit, huh?"
He hadn't expected Sean to survive that attack. The fireball had hit him squarely at close range, and the resulting shockwave had even knocked Ethan back, forcing him to stabilize himself against the deck. Protected by his ice shield, Ethan hadn't taken any damage, but he'd assumed Sean would be dead—or at least critically injured.
Before the fireball, everything had gone according to Ethan's plan. Step by step, he had maneuvered Sean into a vulnerable position, baiting him into a false sense of dominance before delivering what he thought would be a finishing blow. He'd expected to either blow Sean to pieces or leave him barely clinging to life.
But to his surprise, Sean had endured it.
Ethan's fleeting sense of pride in his tactics was replaced by frustration. "Looks like I underestimated him," he thought grimly.
Even so, Ethan wasn't about to give Sean a chance to recover. Without hesitation, he strode toward the fallen pirate, his eyes cold and focused. Sean was barely breathing and looked like he could drop dead at any moment, but Ethan wasn't going to take any risks.
"Finish him while he's down," Ethan reminded himself.
He hadn't forgotten Sean's nickname: the Hand of Fire. That glove on Sean's left hand was clearly a fire-attribute magic stone weapon, and judging by Sean's reputation, it wasn't something to take lightly. Ethan had deliberately crafted his plan to prevent Sean from using it, lulling the pirate into thinking he could win without relying on his magic stone equipment.
But as Ethan closed the distance, a sudden sense of danger shot through his mind. His instincts screamed at him to move, and he reacted without hesitation, twisting his body to the side just in time.
A glint of steel whizzed past his face, narrowly missing his forehead by a hair's breadth. A flying knife had come out of nowhere, aimed directly at him.
Cold sweat broke out on Ethan's back as he reflexively raised his wrist and fired a short arrow toward the direction the knife had come from. Only then did he turn his head to see who had attacked him.
Standing on the deck was a thin man, slightly taller than Ethan but nowhere near as imposing as Sean. His build was ordinary, and he wore a plain vest. However, the vest was lined with throwing knives, each carefully tucked into place. Two knives were already in his hands, their blades gleaming in the sunlight.
The moment Ethan fired, the man reacted instinctively, hurling one of his knives toward the incoming arrow.
Boom!
The knife and the arrow collided mid-air, resulting in a small explosion that made everyone on the ship flinch.
"Exploding arrows?!"
The knife-thrower's forehead was damp with sweat. His reaction had been pure instinct—normally, he would have tried to dodge or block the projectile. But at such close range, the explosion would've left him gravely injured, if not dead.
"Was that… what took out the captain?" he wondered, glancing at Sean's battered form.
From his position, he hadn't seen the fireball clearly. All he'd caught was the explosion, leading him to assume that Ethan's short arrow had been the weapon responsible for Sean's injuries. His eyes drifted toward Ethan's right wrist, where the arrow had been launched. The seemingly unremarkable wrist guard suddenly drew everyone's attention.
But Ethan didn't waste time. As the crew was distracted by the explosion, he dashed toward Sean again, determined to end the fight.
Sean, however, proved more resilient than Ethan anticipated. Despite his injuries, the pirate captain forced himself to his feet, stumbling as he retreated toward his own ship. He collapsed near the thin man with the throwing knives, his breath ragged but his voice sharp with authority.
"Keno! Use the magic stone cannon!" Sean barked.
Keno nodded curtly. "Understood, Captain."
But as he stepped forward, Keno's expression changed. The knife in his hand glinted as he suddenly slashed it across Sean's throat.
A spray of blood arced through the air, painting the deck in crimson.
"You're already dead," Keno murmured coldly.
Sean's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He clutched at his throat, trying to stem the blood pouring from the fatal wound, but it was futile. His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the deck, lifeless.
Even as he lay dying, Sean's mind reeled. He had survived Ethan's attacks, only to be killed by the subordinate he trusted most.
After killing Sean with a single knife, Keno calmly bent down and removed the glove from Sean's left hand. With a deliberate air, he adjusted the glove and slid it onto his own hand.
"I've been waiting for this day for a long time."
Keno's voice carried a mix of suppressed resentment and satisfaction as he stood over Sean's lifeless body. It seemed years of pent-up frustration were finally being unleashed. Now wearing the glove, he began speaking directly to the corpse, as if Sean could still hear him.
"You fool. Did you really think I would stay your obedient lackey forever?" Keno spat, his voice rising. "Did you ever stop to think about how you treated us? How you treated everyone who followed you? Over the years, hundreds of men have served under you, and how many of them met a good end?"
He paused, then roared, "Not a single one!"
Keno's anger boiled over as he shouted at the dead man's face. "You treated us like garbage! Like tools to be used and discarded! Why shouldn't I kill you? Why do you look so surprised?"
Sean's lifeless body offered no response, of course, but the expression frozen on his face—wide eyes filled with disbelief—only fueled Keno's rant.
When no reply came, Keno gradually calmed down, his voice leveling into something colder, almost indifferent. "This glove… such excellent magic stone equipment… What a waste in your hands. This glove, this ship, these men—they're all mine now."
Keno turned his attention to Ethan and Arthur. A sly smile spread across his face as he addressed them. "You two—young, talented. How about joining my crew? I'll even make you my first mates."
Ethan and Arthur exchanged wary glances. They were still reeling from the sudden betrayal, unsure whether to take advantage of the chaos to eliminate Keno and the remaining crew or to see where this situation led. Keno's sudden invitation was baffling, after all, they'd just slaughtered a good portion of the crew and nearly killed the captain.
But as Ethan glanced at the surrounding sailors, he noticed something odd. None of them seemed particularly angry or vengeful about Sean's death. In fact, they looked almost relieved. Judging by their reactions and Keno's earlier tirade—it seemed Sean's subordinates hadn't exactly been loyal to him.
Still, Ethan didn't trust any of them.
"This… doesn't sound very appealing," Ethan replied flatly, making no attempt to hide his distaste.
Keno's expression darkened briefly, but he quickly replaced it with a look of feigned disappointment. "What a shame," he said, shaking his head. "You're both too young to understand how dangerous this world truly is. Do you really think you can survive out here, just the two of you? Even if you cross the Sea of Storms, do you know what kind of world awaits you there?"
His tone shifted, becoming almost persuasive as he took a step forward. "It's a world that's wider, more dangerous, and full of treasures. But for every treasure, there's someone stronger than you ready to take it. Do you think you can face that alone?"
Keno gestured toward Sean's body. "Do you know why that idiot Sean stayed in the Sea of Calm for so long? Because he knew the truth. Out there, this glove is nothing. A single piece of magic stone equipment won't save you. That's why he spent so long scavenging the Calm Sea, hoping to gather enough magic stones to arm himself before making the crossing."
Keno's expression grew serious, his gaze sharp and calculating. "That's the reality. You need power to survive. You need magic stone equipment to face what's out there."
Ethan and Arthur exchanged another glance, both quickly picking up on the underlying threat in Keno's words. The tension between the two parties grew heavier, and Keno's smile turned predatory.
Ethan, ever pragmatic, decided to spell it out. "You mean to say that since we won't join you, you'll just take our equipment instead."
Keno chuckled darkly, nodding. "Exactly. You're sharp, I'll give you that. And now I'm glad you didn't accept my offer."
He waved a hand toward the surrounding sailors, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Sink their ship. Use the magic stone cannon. Don't bother conserving those cheap magic stones, just blow them to pieces."
Ethan, who had been silently watching Keno, shook his head in mock pity. "I knew you'd try something like this. Do you really think I didn't notice you stalling for time?"
As he spoke, Ethan pulled a thick leather book from behind his back. The cover was embedded with white magic stones that began to glow faintly as he opened it. Channeling his magic through the book, Ethan activated a spell, summoning a white barrier between the two ships.
Almost simultaneously, the magic stone cannon on Keno's ship fired. A fiery orange-red projectile shot through the air, roaring as it raced toward Ethan's vessel.
***
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