Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 148

Chapter 148: Heart Devouring Seal!
The moment the eerie spirits infiltrated her being, Cyan River hastily transmitted a distress signal through her [Overturned Mask]. Her message was clear: she had unearthed valuable information about an underground maze. Yet, even as she sent the plea for help, doubt clouded her mind. She wasn’t certain if her comrades, No. 4 Green Tide and No. 7 Purple Wind, would come to her aid in time, if at all.

“Wait one more minute,” she murmured to herself, teeth clenched in determination. “If no one arrives, I must fight, even if it’s to the death!”

As she dodged through the alleys, Cyan River kept a grim tally. Four minutes had elapsed since her escape, five was the limit she had set. Beyond that, the erosion of her body and spirit would leave her too weak to mount any effective counterattack.

Unexpectedly, her body gave out not a minute later, but mere seconds after her resolution. Her legs buckled, sending her tumbling to the ground, where she crashed against a wall with a heavy thud.

“How is this happening?!” she gasped, her breaths shallow and labored. Every slight movement was a difficult task, and lifting her head felt like moving mountains.

A chilling realization dawned on her as she inwardly assessed her condition. The invasive spirits had woven a sinister pattern within her, plunging her spirit into a dormant state that, in turn, ravaged her physical form, leaving her frail and powerless.

A mocking chuckle echoed in the alley. “Hehe… you run quite well, and you’re resilient. To withstand the ‘Heart Devouring Seal’ for over four minutes, when it usually incapacitates a rank three professional in three is truly impressive,” a voice sneered.

“Unfortunately, you stumbled upon secrets not meant for your eyes.”

The leader of the black-robed figures stepped forward from the shadows, reaching down to hoist Cyan River from the ground.

Desperate to resist, she found her body unresponsive, her consciousness blurring and fading. Struggling to remain conscious was proving to be a difficult challenge.

Powerless, she could only watch as she was lifted into the air, and a thick, black substance like mud began to seep from beneath the feet of her captors. This wasn’t merely a shadow; it was something far more ominous.

As the black-robed man holding her began to sink into the dark quagmire, Cyan River’s heart sank with him. She knew that if they had merely retreated the way they came, she might have held on long enough for help to arrive. But this strange mode of transport, their descent into the black abyss dashed any hope of rescue.

Her toes brushed against the cold, dark mire, and a stray thought flashed through her mind: What if No. 7 Purple Wind had agreed to team up with her that morning? She had been sincere in her reasons for the alliance, seeking not just security, but something more. She had seen a fierce determination in Cyan River’s eyes during a skirmish, a spark that had compelled her, a solitary wanderer by nature, to consider the strength in numbers.

An assassin always walks alone, doesn’t he?

Regretfully, there are not so many ‘ifs’ in life…

As the malignant influence of the “Heart-Eating Seal” permeated her being, Cyan River felt her consciousness sinking inexorably into darkness. The world blurred at the edges, and just before her senses succumbed completely, a blazing sword light cut through the gloom, heralding her descent into unconsciousness.

—

In the narrow alley, the leader of the black-robed figures felt the ground beneath him churn as he was slowly consumed by the sinister black mud. His expression twisted in alarm. In a frantic reaction, he conjured a dark spiritual vortex around him, a shield pulsing with corrupt energy.

No sooner had the shield materialized than a fierce, domineering sword light descended from afar. What seemed like a distance of dozens of meters was closed in an instant, the sword’s strike slamming into the dark vortex with a thunderous crash.

“Boom boom!”

The impact sent shockwaves tearing through the alley, pulverizing the brick walls to either side, sending plumes of dust skyward. The vortex shield shattered into a cascade of fading light, and the leader staggered back, his retreat marked by deep, muddy footprints. Blood, vivid and startling, dripped from beneath his mask, splattering on the ground in dark blooms.

The two other black-robed figures, though shielded from the brunt of the blast, were thrown into disarray, their robes torn and smudged with debris.

“Damn it!” cursed one of the figures, his voice a low growl.

All three wheeled around to face the end of the alley, their eyes fixing on the silhouette of a man striding confidently towards them. His steps echoed in the confined space, each footfall resonant, like the steady drum of an advancing army, palpably pressing upon the chests of the black-robed assailants.

They hesitated, sensing the formidable presence emanating from this newcomer. It wasn’t merely a man approaching; it felt like an apex predator, methodically closing in on its prey, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

Ryan reached where Cyan River lay discarded, her face marred by dark veins, unconscious yet defiant even in her vulnerability. He gently propped her against what remained of the alley’s wall, then turned to face his adversaries squarely.

He had hoped for a joint effort with Cyan River in confronting these foes, yet fate had ordained a solitary battle. Standing alone against the trio, Ryan couldn’t help but acknowledge the pressure.

“It’s a bit stressful,” he admitted, rotating his neck to loosen the muscles. His tone was light, almost casual, but his eyes blazed with an unquenchable fire of combativeness.

The leader of the black-robed men, wiping the trickle of blood from his mask, eyed Ryan warily. “…Ahem… Are you her accomplice?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion and a hint of respect, addressing the formidable figure who now stood defiantly with his great sword ready.

Ryan regarded the trio of black-robed figures with a look of disdain, his voice tinged with revulsion. “I’ve never encountered a spiritual entity before, but the mere sight of you is repulsive.”

“What do you know?” the leader of the black-robed men sneered, his face hidden in shadow. He waved dismissively at his companions. “Let’s take him down, dead or alive.”

Confounded by Ryan’s unexpected prowess, they had pegged him for a mere first-level professional, the leader nonetheless resolved that Ryan’s interference would end in demise. Abandoning any pretense of honor, he signaled his comrades to attack simultaneously.

As their leader, Black-robed Man No. 1, initiated the assault, he gestured menacingly towards Ryan. The mud previously clinging to his robe reared up, morphing into sharp, jagged spires around Ryan, trapping him within a cage of spikes.

Simultaneously, Black-robed Man No. 2 materialized behind Ryan, his hand glowing ominously with a surge of dark spiritual energy, ready to strike.

Black-robed Man No. 3, meanwhile, moved towards Cyan River, intending to use her as leverage. Their strategy was clear: control the rescuer, attack from behind, and secure the hostage. Though no explicitly spoken, their actions were flawlessly synchronized.

However, as Black-robed Man No. 3 reached toward Cyan River, a primal fear seized him, a visceral, debilitating terror that flashed him back to a childhood encounter with a wild bear, the memory suffused with dread.

Death loomed palpable.

This acute sense of impending doom compelled him to abandon his grasp on Cyan River and retreat. But his realization came too late.

With a resounding “bang”, the mud spike cage exploded outward as Ryan burst forth. His great sword, aglow with a brilliant white light, cleaved through the air towards Black-robed Man No. 3. The sword’s passage distorted the air, leaving tumultuous ripples in its wake. The fierce blade wind ensnared the fleeing figure, thwarting his escape.

Despite the sword’s apparent lack of spiritual enhancement, its mere silhouette cast into the man’s eyes evoked a profound terror, the kind that gnaws at the very essence of one’s soul. Faced with inevitable death, Black-robed Man No. 3’s survival instincts kicked in.

“I must fight,” he resolved grimly, a desperate resolve hardening within him. Dark energy swirled into a vortex around his hands, forming a shield even as he noticed Black-robed Man No. 2 positioning for a deadly blow against Ryan from behind.

“Just a moment’s block,” he thought frantically, “and the Heart Devouring Seal will finish him.”

The night wind howled, the stakes were high, and in the thick of conflict, every moment counted towards survival or demise.