124.

“There’s another one over there who practices forbidden sorcery.”

“Forbidden sorcery?”

“One who can see through Calypso’s mist.”

“…….”

“Only a witch can overcome a witch’s curse.”

With each sentence the old crone uttered, another voice snickered, giggled, or coughed up a rasping wheeze. It sounded strangely eerie and chilling. Calypso continued muttering incomprehensible words afterward. Like the insane often do, she strung together stories whose time—past or future—could not be discerned. Then suddenly, she would spew out cryptic curses.

“Today is the day. Calypso sees fate devouring you.”

“…….”

“You will ultimately be abandoned.”

Nick clearly thought Calypso was mocking him. A dull thud sounded, followed by a groan of suppressed pain. Eventually, Nick let go of Calypso’s hair with a look of utter disgust. The old woman collapsed to the floor like a puppet with severed strings.

“Don’t even give her a sip of water until she crafts a useful curse.”

The sun rising from the east slowly dyed the surroundings in an ominous blood-red hue. Ro lifted her lifeless gaze. Whether it was from the blood of Daisy that had splattered into her eyes last night, the sight of Calypso sprawled on the deck like rags, or perhaps that damned dawn—her vision was entirely distorted. Everything seemed split in two—either dark blue or red.

“Alert! Alert!”

The alarm bell ringing from the watchtower pounded against their eardrums. Esperanda’s ships had already drawn noticeably closer. A swarm of pirates crowded the deck, pressing close and pointing fingers.

“The ship is entering firing range!”

“Where are the Tilsen bastards?”

“Damn them. They’ve decided to cut us off.”

“Captain! We really need to do something now!”

“The enemy is preparing for combat!”

The last shout almost sounded like a scream. Until now, Nick had been able to achieve results against Esperanda’s navy because his smaller, faster vessel was more suitable than the navy’s standard galleons. Though slightly inferior in sailing ability, it was perfectly suited for rear guerrilla operations. Of course, this relied on the precondition that Tilsen’s navy would conduct a diversionary maneuver from the opposite side.

But now, everything had changed. They’d been cornered, and against such overwhelming numerical superiority, nothing mattered. Even if Bellita was an excellent ship, it couldn’t possibly block cannon fire coming from all directions. Their only hope was to avoid battle, escape this situation, and rendezvous with Tilsen’s main fleet.

Nick glanced briefly at Ro, slumped and tied to the mast, then issued his order. If the enemy attacked without noticing her, they might be sunk without even mounting proper resistance.

“We have no choice. Form battle lines.”

The moment he gave the command, the first mate blew a long blast on the whistle. Drums beat loudly, and pirates on deck shouted in unison. Yet, gripped by fear, their voices lacked true strength.

“To your battle stations!”

“Why aren’t you moving faster?”

“Port side, load cannons! Commence loading!”

“Any laggard will have their wrist cut off and thrown to the whales!”

For all their pretense of training, their attempts to act like a real military were laughable. All gunports opened, and gunpowder was loaded into the cannons. Tension settled over the deck like a tightly drawn bowstring. They remained in this standoff for over ten minutes. The pirates, who had been cowering like turtles, now stretched their necks and looked around nervously.

“This is strange. Why aren’t they attacking?”

“Captain… something’s off, isn’t it?”

Just as confusion grew, five ships suddenly surged forward from among Esperanda’s fleet. When they spotted the largest vessel—the flagship bearing Montrosa’s admiral flag—chaos erupted. As the distance closed enough to make out individuals, a signal flag abruptly rose from the admiral’s ship.

“Signalman! Where’s the damn signalman?”

Answering the call, a man was dragged up in a panic and pulled a grimy telescope from his coat. After silently watching the flag’s movements for a while, he reported in a voice filled with disbelief.

“They’re saying… to let them come closer?”

“Let them.”

“What—what? Captain, are you sane? That’s Montrosa’s ship!”

“Ah, I’ll take responsibility if anything goes wrong.”

Nick approached the mast, laughing as if he’d never been tense. He reached out and ruffled her hair roughly.

“There you go. That bastard wouldn’t just pretend not to know you and throw you away completely. Annoying as he usually is, he’s useful sometimes. Isn’t he?”

“Get… your hands… off…”

“Ah, angry? I won’t really hand you over. Don’t worry.”

A massive dark-blue galleon swiftly cut through the waves toward them. Its enormous shadow loomed over their heads. Most pirates froze not from the warship’s size, but from the sight of its iconic navy admiral flag. Considering where these men came from… it was only natural they instinctively feared the admiral’s banner.

“Who is this?”

Nick stood with his back to her, spreading his arms wide in an absurd, mocking bow. His exaggerated movements felt less like respect and more like ridicule.

“None other than the famous Vice Admiral Montrosa.”

Montrosa? Ro snapped her head up. Reacting to that voice was inevitable. Like a creature blinded by gazing too long at the sun, she would gladly go blind again just to see him one more time. Without a thought for her own appearance, she frantically scanned the galleon’s deck. Then… their eyes met.

Silence. Creak, creak. Aside from the sails and rigging swaying in the sea breeze, it was utterly suffocatingly quiet. Though the distance was great, barely enough to make out facial features, Ro was certain Cardier was looking at her. That he had recognized her instantly—just as she had found him in an instant among countless others.

Like someone enchanted, Ro helplessly drank in Cardier’s image. He looked strikingly suited to the sea. Deep blue eyes, golden hair like blazing sunlight, and a white uniform. Her torn heart began pounding chaotically. Ro bit her lip until blood came. To reunite like this—captured, neither dead nor avenged—felt humiliating rather than joyful.

“The only reason we’re allowing your approach is one thing—we have a demand.”

Nick theatrically bent down and grabbed Rosetta’s chin, lifting her face.

“Pretend you didn’t see us, and we’ll let this woman live.”

Woman? Who was this woman to them? Several navy men pulled out telescopes and began scrutinizing her. She seemed noble, but no one could place her family. Then suddenly, a restless murmur began spreading from somewhere.

“Could that be…?”

“Lady Valdemore? Then… the lieutenant’s wife?”

“No way!”

“B-but it looks like her! Look at the eye and hair color!”

Everyone began covertly glancing between her and Cardier. Yet Cardier himself showed not the slightest reaction—no twitch of an eyebrow, no tremor of the lips. Utterly impassive. Those who had voiced suspicion gradually fell silent. Ro felt relief.

If Cardier acknowledged her and tried to save her, causing Nick to escape and leading to defeat in a war that would cost countless lives… she could never forgive herself for being the spark that started it all. She didn’t want to be a burden. Just pass by without knowing me, Cardier. This is my battle to fight.

“I accept.”

Ro jerked her head up sharply. That was the very words that shattered her expectations. Cardier’s expression, which until now had seemed completely frozen, now appeared slightly broken. His sharp gaze swept over her emaciated body and the dried bloodstains. A look of anguish. He opened his mouth again.

“Whatever condition you demand, I will accept…”

“No, no. You’re misunderstanding. This isn’t a negotiation. It’s a one-sided demand.”

Nick interrupted Cardier, puffing his chest and pulling a pistol from his coat. Without turning, he aimed the gun at Ro.

“Clear the way. Or I’ll put a bullet into each of this woman’s limbs.”

This time, the navy erupted in fierce reaction. Several immediately drew their firearms, and the pirates responded by brandishing their own weapons. Nick, who had been aiming diagonally at Rosetta, now turned his body to face Cardier directly, leveling the gun at him.

In that taut moment of standoff, Ro realized she had been completely erased from the men’s attention. Two women—one old, one bound and frail. The moment she had endured in silence had finally arrived. Rosetta clenched her fist, stained with Daisy’s blood, until the bluish veins stood out on her knuckles.

Watch closely, Daisy. It’s always the pawn’s duty to flip the chessboard.