Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 134

Chapter 134: Regrouping with the Crew!
As the meeting progressed, the esteemed “Red Kite,” presiding at the helm, introduced the newcomer “Purple Wind” and opened the floor for exchanges. Ryan observed quietly, absorbing the tacit rules of barter and exchange as members articulated their needs and offered their resources. In this circle, intelligence and resources were traded with a brisk efficiency that only a network like theirs could facilitate.

A “temporary private fog space” was created for private discussions, a testament to the secretive and expedient nature of their dealings. Ryan pondered the potential of such gatherings. Unbound by the stringent “Blood Oath Contract,” the opportunities for advancement were boundless.

As the exchanges drew to a close, Ryan sensed his moment to engage. Rising slightly, he declared, “I seek the core tenets of the ‘First-level Pirate Path,’ and am willing to offer something unique in exchange.” In his hand shimmered a mysterious bead, its surface catching the light with an enticing glimmer. “This gem,” he explained, “not only hastens recovery when applied to wounds but also yields significant benefits when ingested or used in concocting potent recovery potions.” His offer hung in the air, a tantalizing proposal laid before the assembly, awaiting a respondent equally intrigued by the potential of both the path and the prize.

Ryan, with a strategic gesture, presented the “Pearl of Fertility” at the exchange meeting. The pearl, once crucial to his survival, had become superfluous after mastering the “Heart of Gluttony” skill. It was now a valuable bargaining chip, perfectly suited for trading for the coveted insights he sought on the “Pirate Path.”

As Ryan detailed his offer, the attendees’ interest visibly piqued. The allure of a healing artifact was universally strong, particularly one as potent as the Pearl. Yet, as he scanned the room, he noticed Green Tide and Blue Mountain’s expressions turn to mild disappointment; they were unable to provide the specific information Ryan needed. The secrets of advancing in the Pirate Path, especially achieving a 100% fit at the second level, were jealously guarded, known only to a select few.

Just as the room’s energy began to wane, Cyan River, who had been silently observing from the head of the table, perked up. “I possess the knowledge you seek. Let’s discuss this privately,” she proposed with a knowing smile.

In an instant, a swirling fog enveloped Ryan and Cyan River, transporting them to a secluded “temporary private fog room.” Cyan River inspected the pearl Ryan offered, nodded appreciatively, and stowed it away securely.

She then shared her wisdom, “The essence of embodying a pirate, with 100% authenticity, is rooted in an innate resistance to ‘rules.’ Pirates epitomize the rejection of societal norms; they’re driven by a quest for adventure, a thirst for freedom, and a disdain for the conventional constraints that bind them.”

“Adventure, freedom, and indulgence are mere expressions of their deeper rebellion against rules. To truly excel as a [First-level Pirate] and achieve perfect synchronicity with this role, one must embrace and exemplify this resistance.”

Ryan absorbed her words, struck by the clarity and depth of understanding they provided. It was a revelation that resonated with his own experiences and aspirations within the pirate role.

As the fog dissipated, signaling the end of their private discussion, Ryan found himself reflecting on Cyan River’s teachings. The insight had not only equipped him with valuable knowledge but also deepened his understanding of his own path and identity within the pirate world.

The exchange meeting wound down, and one by one, the figures of Green Tide, Cyan River, and Blue Mountain soon faded from their seats, their presence dissolving into the shadows of the hall.

Before Ryan prepared to leave, Red Kite offered one final piece of guidance, adjusting his teleportation settings for added security. “Purple Wind, your exit point has been recalibrated. You’ll emerge ten kilometers from the initial entry. Keep your mask on, and the ‘Holy Eye’ will remain blind to your trail.”

Grateful and enlightened, Ryan nodded in understanding, his mind already racing with plans and possibilities. “Understood,” he affirmed.

With a whispered command of “leave” in his heart, Ryan felt the familiar rush of mist envelop him, his surroundings blurring into darkness as he was whisked away to safety, his connection to the Overturned Hall lingering in his thoughts as a vital new chapter of his journey unfolded.

As the spectral glow flickered into existence before him, Ryan instinctively reached for the familiar hilt of his greatsword, slung across his back like a silent guardian. Despite the assurances of “Red Kite” that the teleportation coordinates had been set to a secluded location ten kilometers from the nearest entrance, the unpredictable presence of the Libra Church’s followers left a sliver of doubt in his mind. In this treacherous world, caution was not just a precaution, it was a necessity.

Surveying his surroundings, Ryan found himself enveloped by the dense, canopy of an ancient forest. The air was thick with the musky scent of earth and the rustling of unseen creatures. A cursory glance revealed no human presence; the woods seemed untouched, pristine.

After a few tense moments, he allowed himself a shallow breath of relief, muttering under his breath, “It appears I’ve come on the outskirts of the island. It’s highly improbable for the Libra Church to venture this far from their stronghold.”

With no reason to linger, Ryan hastened away from the scene, his boots crunching softly on the leaf-strewn path.

Time passed as he moved silently, and soon he found himself at a secluded beach. Nestled against the jagged face of a rock wall was a small, inconspicuous alcove. Inside, Ryan sat across from Freni and Cecilia, the flickering flames of a small bonfire casting erratic shadows across their faces.

With a heavy sigh, he recounted his recent ordeals within the confines of Santos, including the perilous encounter at the “Overthrow Palace”. His voice was steady, yet tinged with the weariness of one who had seen too much.

“The Libra Holy Church, the Witch Society, the Overturned Palace… and now, the theft of the ‘holy object’ has set a myriad of forces into motion. Saint Thomas, along with its neighboring isles, is swiftly becoming a whirlpool of conflict,” Ryan explained, his eyes flickering with the reflection of the fire.

Freni listened intently, his brow furrowed in thought, while Cecilia appeared to absorb the tale. Yet, Ryan noticed her gaze drifting slightly, her light silver eyes shimmering not with contemplation but perhaps with a touch of bewilderment. He smiled faintly to himself, wondering if it was just his imagination.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Freni spoke, her voice imbued with a gravitas that filled the small alcove. “We shouldn’t rush to depart from here. Despite the chaos engulfing Santos, the real conflict centers around the ‘holy object’, the ‘sacred scale’, and the ‘Dungeon Labyrinth.”

“By some twist of fate, Mr. Ryan, you’ve aligned with the ‘Overthrow Temple’ and secured an artifact that shields us from the ‘Holy Eye’s tracking, a considerable advantage for us,” Freni continued, his tone becoming more urgent.

“If the entrance to the dungeon indeed opens on the ‘Day of the Plenty Star’, it presents us with a great opportunity. Gathering the components for the third-level promotion potion elsewhere would be a lengthy endeavor.”

Freni’s voice grew somber as he concluded, “We must be aware that the Black Knights will regroup and return, especially after the fall of their twelfth seat. Their pursuit will intensify, and the strength of those who come next will not be as forgiving.”

“Mr. Ryan, do not underestimate the Black Knights based on your recent victory. The lower seats, while honorary, serve more as a motivation for the ranks. The real threat begins with the tenth seat, those are the true veterans, the core strength of the Black Knights.”

Each word hung heavily in the air, underscored by the crackle of the bonfire, as the trio considered their next move in the shadowy, flickering light.