Standing behind the large map table, Captain Sharlok scrutinized his officers, his jaw clenched. Then he broke the silence, his voice icy.

“Commander Surez. I want a full report. Damage. Wounded. Dead. Leave nothing out.”

The commander, weary but composed, drew a breath and began listing the figures with the precision of someone counting the irreparable.

“The attack began around midnight. The sentries on the towers were neutralized from inside the fortress, which is why the alarm was delayed. The pirates kept their distance: bombardment with eolite cannons, no attempt at landing. We believe it was a diversion to cover an internal operation within the stronghold. At the moment, no thefts have been confirmed, but inspections of warehouses and supply depots are still ongoing.”

He paused briefly, fingers tapping against the ledger as he read off the numbers.

“Dead: four. Seriously wounded: around a dozen. One warship is currently patrolling the coast in search of the pirate vessel. Inside the fortress, we have yet to identify any confirmed suspects.”

Sharlok clenched his fists, rage simmering just beneath the surface.

Commander Surez hesitated, as if about to deliver something worse.

“There’s… something else.”

Sharlok fixed him with a cold stare.

“What else? As it is, justifying this is already impossible.”

“The two recruits under punishment have disappeared. We found the ropes cut—someone freed them and covered their escape during the chaos. A fishing boat is also missing; they likely used it to flee. We have no data on the direction they took. They’re still wearing their eolite restraints, so—in theory—they should be unarmed.”

For a moment, the room froze.

Then Sharlok moved. Every word was a blade

.

“I want those two found. Alive or dead. They are deserters and will be tried by court-martial. If I’m fortunate, I’ll kill them with my own hands. I will not allow this fortress to become the Empire’s laughingstock.”

“Yes, sir.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Outside, the pounding of repairs echoed through the air, a reminder that the night just passed had left a deep wound—not only in the walls of Castle Rock, but in the honor of the Empire itself.

The pirate ship rocked gently on the open waters of the Central Sea, its creaking wood and the stench of salt and tar filling the air. The crew waited for calmer waters to disappear into the night, faces marked by life at sea and dirty dealings.

The Captain, massive and fierce-looking, strode onto the deck, his voice rough.

“Contact that bastard Doc! We’ve done our part—now I want the agreed share. If he tries to vanish without paying, I’ll chase him to the ends of the world.”

From the shadows emerged a man with a calm, measured gait. A heavy satchel hung from his shoulder, his face carved into a mask of cold indifference.

As he approached, the Captain eyed him with a mix of hostility and relief.

“Doc. Finally. I thought I’d lost you.”

“I didn’t run.”

The man opened the bag and laid the money out on the rough table.

“Here’s your share.”

The first mate counted the bills one by one, the sound blending with the wind and the tense breathing of those gathered.

Doc remained silent, studying the faces around him—some thirty pirates with sabers at their sides, wary and ready for anything.

When the count was finished, the Captain nodded with a grin.

“Looks like it’s all there. Let’s part ways and pretend we never met.”

Doc turned toward the side of the ship, where his own vessel awaited. He stopped, one hand resting on the railing. He spoke without raising his voice, yet every word fell heavy on the deck.

“I paid for the job you did. But I never said we’d simply say goodbye. Sooner or later, the Empire will find you. And if they don’t, someone worse will. Under torture, you’ll talk. And I can’t allow you to take the truth with you.”

The deck went cold.

The pirates exchanged alarmed glances, then drew their sabers in unison. Metal flashed under the moonlight.

The Captain snarled.

“You filthy bastard! Don’t you see you’re surrounded? Here’s my decision: I kill you and feed what’s left to the sharks.”

The blades crashed down on him like a wave of iron.

Doc moved with the practiced speed of someone who knows danger well. He avoided the first strike, blocked the second with his arm—but there were too many of them. Wounds multiplied. The clash of steel and the pirates’ shouts filled the air as the fight erupted on the deck, brutal and swift.

It was only the following morning that the Empire finally located the pirate ship.

It lay still in a secluded bay, grounded like a corpse forgotten by the sea. The sails were in tatters, the hull tilted and partially submerged. No voices. No signs of battle. Only the ghostly creak of wood and the acrid stench of blood and salt.

The boarding was disturbingly easy. No resistance.

Bodies everywhere. Weapons scattered, still slick with blood. Dark red pools seeped between the planks like open veins.

A sudden, savage massacre—violent and devoid of logic.

A messenger was dispatched to Castle Rock. A few hours later, Captain Sharlok arrived aboard a military craft with a handpicked squad.

The moment he set foot on the wreck, his icy gaze took in the piled corpses, mouths frozen in screams no one had heard.

“Captain,” the commander reported grimly. “The ship was found this morning. The entire crew is dead… including their captain.”

Sharlok knelt beside one of the bodies, examining the wounds with surgical detachment. His expression remained impassive, but the veins at his temples pulsed with restrained fury.

“Has the investigation team completed an analysis?”

“Yes, sir. It’s definitely the work of a Level Up.”

The commander hesitated. “But… judging by the wounds, it almost looks like they slaughtered each other. There are no signs of an external attacker. Zero traces. As if it all happened… from within.”

Sharlok tightened his jaw.

“Whoever did this is the same one who neutralized our sentries and covered the escape of those two idiots. They knew the Empire would find this ship. They erased the pirates to eliminate every trace. And most importantly… they possess a power that leaves no evidence.”

The commander swallowed.

“We could inform Headquarters.”

The silence grew oppressive.

“We inform no one.”

Sharlok’s voice was absolute.

“Send commanders directly to the families of the fugitives. I want every detail. Who saw them last. Who helped them. Who dared to speak to them. No lead is to be overlooked.”

Surez hesitated briefly.

“There’s a problem, Captain. Sky’s aunt… is Mia Light. Questioning her may not be advisable.”

Sharlok’s knuckles turned white.

“Damn it. I don’t care. I want answers.”

A frozen pause.

“If we have to question her… we will.”

“At once, sir.”

As the men prepared to leave the wreck, Sharlok remained still, staring out at the horizon. The sea was calm. Too calm.

It wasn’t peace. It was a constructed stillness.

A deliberate lie.

Someone was moving in the shadows. Someone clever enough—and monstrously powerful enough—to orchestrate everything.

Sky and Shark were only the beginning.

The first stone that had started the avalanche.

—

Next Episode — The Weight of Blood