Chapter 275: Chapter 243: Went Bald, But Didn’t Get Stronger, Lost Pincers and People
"Ah! Fat Dragon, you despicable traitor, you deserve to die!"
With his body erupting in Spiritual Radiance, [Blue Hair] fiercely pushed back Byron and Andrew, who had been restraining him, and lashed out with a spiked tail like a whip at Fat Dragon behind him. The latter, having struck successfully, naturally wouldn’t stay put to be hit. He had already retreated, pushing off with his legs and dashing backward. Even with the tail strike fast as lightning, he managed to block it with the two gleaming boarding axes in his hands. It only left a long, bloody scratch across the layered fat on his chest, sparing him from being gutted open.
And that turned out to be [Blue Hair] Barbarossa Halding’s last Fourth Order attack, using the borrowed power of "basking in reflected glory." The disappearance of the hairstyle on his head, identical to that of the Pirate King, [Ocean Throne] Barbarossa Hailiding, signified the end of the precondition for the title [Blue Hair] to take effect.
After the strike missed, first, the overbearing, fearsome, and unbeatable aura he exuded instantly collapsed. The magnificent image naturally conjured in everyone’s minds vanished without a trace, replaced by his true appearance—a bald cripple with one arm chopped off, devoid of any master’s aura. The great power that originally belonged to a Fourth-order Heroic level also rapidly weakened. The core ability of the Heroic Beast Tamer, the [Heart of the Beast King], was the first to disappear, and all the transcendent abilities derived from the Sea Monster left him one by one. [Torrent Breath], [Resistance Water Ring], the crab shell and crab claws from [Striding Battle Armor]... all collapsed back into ordinary seawater, spreading across the ground. Lastly, Blue Hair’s robust physique deflated like a withered balloon, shrinking back to its original form within a few breaths. His spirituality also returned to the level appropriate for a Third Order.
"He has gone bald but hasn’t gotten any stronger, and he even lost his pincers. Nothing is sadder in life than this. Blue Hair, your days of tyranny are over."
Byron lamented as he spoke, but his actions were not slow. Leaping atop his horse, he swung the Knight Spear in his hand and viciously struck down at Blue Hair, who was like a drowning dog.
The first strike swung down.
CLANG!
The longsword flew from Blue Hair’s hand, his arm went numb, and his chest was left wide open. He staggered back in shock and panic.
The second strike swung down.
From a wondrous pouch stitched from beast hide at Blue Hair’s waist, two black hounds with bared fangs leaped out, snarling as they lunged at Byron. These were his last personal guards.
BANG!
But under the Knight Spear, swift as lightning, their heads burst open without resistance. With a pitiful yelp, they lay dead on the ground.
The third strike swung down.
Blue Hair’s back slammed against the labyrinth wall. With no strength left to parry, he futilely raised a hand in defense, but his right arm and shoulder fractured on the spot.
CRACK!
The Knight Spear kept pressing down. The desperate Blue Hair felt as if a mountain was on his back, forcing him to one knee, cracking the rocky ground beneath.
"AH—!"
The shrill scream echoed far away.
The power that came from pretending to be a tiger was, after all, only that of a paper tiger; once pierced, its true form was immediately revealed. He was even worse off than other foxes that had never pretended to be tigers. Having masqueraded as a tiger for far too long, he had forgotten that, at his core, he was simply an ordinary fox. He didn’t know how to fight like a fox anymore.
Byron locked three of Blue Hair’s limbs and his neck with a pair of Lawbreaker Stone shackles, completely sealing all his transcendent abilities.
Blue Hair, his eyes bloodshot, panted heavily, glaring virulently at Fat Dragon as if wanting to tear him apart and devour him alive. "HUFF... HUFF... Traitors will not die a good death!"
Traitors are always more detestable than enemies. He still couldn’t understand how someone like Fat Dragon—an old man who had followed his brother on the western coast of the Old Continent, an old man whose weakness he held in his grasp—could so easily betray him and defect to the enemy. And the fact that Mad Hunt had executed the tactic of "luring the snake out of its hole" with such precision clearly showed they had an intimate understanding of the power dynamics and movements at the top levels of both organizations. This meant that Fat Dragon had already been the enemy’s undercover agent within the Barbary Pirates back then! If he thought deeper, were there similar individuals, or even a group of them, within the higher echelons of the Kingdom of Castile? If he was backstabbed by his subordinates at a crucial moment, what about Governor Velazquez of Havana from the Kingdom of Castile? Would he suffer the same fate? Without a doubt, Mad Hunt, that vile mastermind behind the scenes, would never allow an archenemy with whom they shared such deep-seated hatred to live contentedly. Thinking this, he suddenly felt much better, and the boundless rage within him eased somewhat. When misfortune struck, if a competitor could suffer an even worse fate, that too was some small consolation.
With the defeat and capture of Blue Hair and the betrayal of Fat Dragon, the Captain of the Guard, the once-arrogant momentum of the Barbary Pirates instantly collapsed.
"Run for it!"
"I surrender, don’t kill me!"
"Don’t run! Don’t surrender! Rescue His Highness! Serve the Pirate Kingdom!"
Everyone had their own ideas, and what was once an elite pirate force immediately degenerated into a fragmented mob, leading to a one-sided massacre.
Gus, wielding Phantom Blade, once more gave presence to a cannon; with a thunderous BOOM, countless steel balls scattered into the labyrinth’s corridors. Jacqueline’s voice suddenly soared, and the group of pirates opposite her collapsed, bleeding from all seven orifices, their brains shattered. Bruh, wielding the "Sun Holy Sword", and Alfred, [Blood-Red Whiskey], who had just chugged a large gulp of wine, charged like two arrowheads, easily crushing the remnants of the defeated enemy. Eight Fingers and Wayne Dote seized the opportunity to press the attack.
Soon, in the blood-drenched corridor, only a few Transcendents who were pirate officers knelt obediently on the ground, awaiting their final judgment.
Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Byron spread his palm; the Holy Grail of Blood in his hand burst forth with a sanguine light, initiating the ritual. The sea of blood instantly came alive, as if swarming with countless tiny, blood-colored tadpoles or imperceptible insects, crawling towards the fresh corpses splayed across the ground. After a series of soft RUSTLING sounds, only fist-sized clusters of blood essence remained. He collected them into the Warrior’s Cup at his waist.
WOOF WOOF...
Simultaneously, two barks emanated from the shadows. The Dead Souls of the deceased were dragged out and lined up for Byron to pick and choose at his leisure. The outstanding ones were drafted into the Mad Hunt Legion, while the ordinary ones were further processed into Blood of Metamorphosis.
Lastly, Gus, Eight Fingers, and the others scavenged every last piece of valuable property and equipment left on the ground, leaving nothing behind.
No one noticed that the labyrinth, which hadn’t tasted flesh and blood, seemed somewhat dissatisfied with this mid-way thievery, emitting a barely audible hum of protest.
However, it was clear to everyone that most of the surviving Barbary Pirates were shaking uncontrollably, their faces ashen, muttering to themselves:
"A devil! The Bayfolk’s Mad Hunt must be a devil! Death should not be the end but the beginning of another grand voyage. But, Holy Spirit, look at what this devil has done! He’s robbed us of our money and equipment, consumed our flesh and blood down to the bone, and now he enslaves our souls! We’ve been stripped clean of everything, not even a single hair left!"
"We thought we, the recently risen Barbary Pirates, had already trampled those outdated Bay Citizens Pirates under our feet. Who would have thought they’ve remained the most vicious pirates on these seas all along! Holy Spirit, save me!"
After completing all this, Byron finally turned his gaze towards these captives. He strode over to the first pirate and brandished a slave indenture, backed by the Golden Code, in front of his eyes.
He casually asked, "Sign, or not?"
He now seemed to have a foothold but was still in the stage of "accumulating grain"; his identity as Mad Hunt could not yet be revealed. Byron certainly wouldn’t leave loose ends out of misplaced kindness. The core principle of the Golden Code was "What is Caesar’s shall be mine, and what is God’s shall also be mine," its jurisdiction far exceeding the royal iron laws of other nations. Once someone signed this contract endorsed by it, forget betrayal—even harboring any thought of divulging information to others would trigger a gruesome self-destruction.
Upon seeing the slave indenture, the pirate officer hesitated and involuntarily glanced at Blue... no, "Bald" Halding.
BANG!
Gunsmoke wafted from Byron’s revolver as the pirate officer dropped dead on the spot.
"Indecisive. Next."
Indifferently finishing him off with the threefold plunder of soul, flesh, and property, Byron moved on to the next person, who was sweating profusely.
"Sign, or not?"
The second man wore a sycophantic smile. "I’ll sign, I’ll definitely sign! But, Mr. Mad Hunt, considering I’m a Second Order, isn’t being a slave a bit too..."
BANG!
"Chatty. I’m not negotiating."
When he approached the third person, this pirate officer finally understood the situation. Before Byron could speak, he eagerly volunteered, "I’ll sign, Mr. Mad Hunt! I’ll sign anything!"
BANG!
The man’s head thudded heavily on the floor, his eyes wide open in death.
"Don’t think I didn’t see you," Byron said. "You were one of those who initially suggested giving Halding extra concubines as compensation." Still unsatisfied, he fired two more shots into the corpse.
The fourth in line happened to be the octopus-person, Little Eight. Witnessing the brutal scene, he could no longer bear the immense pressure and burst into tears.
The hesitant died, the hagglers died, even those who agreed to sign died. He thought Byron had changed his mind and was preparing to slaughter them all, leaving no one alive.
Hearing the sobs, Byron turned and eyed Little Eight’s eight sturdy, vigorous tentacles, his mouth immediately watering as he ascertained the octopus-person’s value.
Hastily, he apologized, "Oh, sorry about that. Let’s start over. May I ask..."
The octopus-person, who was weeping just a second ago, blurted out, "I’ll sign!"
No matter if the other party was toying with him, cooperation offered a sliver of hope for survival; defiance ensured certain death. He immediately snatched the pen and paper with a tentacle and signed his name.
Byron nodded in satisfaction. "Very well, Mr. Little Eight, welcome to the family of the Pioneer Guiding Colonial Trading Company. Although you are a Beast Tamer, I hear your dream is to become a Sword Saint who creates an eight-sword style. So, you’ll start as reserve fodder... oh, I mean, a livestock breeder. If you perform well, I wouldn’t mind teaching you a trick or two in swordsmanship; breaking into the Flow State will definitely be no problem."
At that, Little Eight’s spirits lifted, and he eagerly accepted the grand promise from his new captain. "Thank you, Captain! I’ll do my best!"
Finally, there were Flower Sword Schneider and his two brothers, all cursed with living death. Schneider, with his unique swordsmanship that had reached the Flow State, was a formidable fighter among these pirates. But now, after long suffering under the curse of living death, unable to receive any positive feedback from the world, his face showed little desire for life. Even as Byron approached him with the slave indenture, he hardly reacted.
Not until Byron casually mentioned, "There are three ways to be exempted from the curse of living death. Beyond obtaining Azkek’s Cursed Coin, there is: First, return the gold to the City of Gold, situated at the center of the lake, and personally kill a thief who stole gold from it, using his blood to cleanse the gold of its sins. I know many who, before learning this, have likely already spent part of the money; this condition seems simple but is actually the hardest to achieve. The second way is to gain clemency from the heir to the Empire and the owner of the gold. So..."
Byron locked eyes with him, gently tempting him like a devil, "Who do you guess... would be the legitimate heir to the Aztec Empire within the realm of Mysticism?"
A spark of enlightenment suddenly ignited in Schneider’s eyes.