Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 207

Chapter 207: A Dying Witch!
[Gospel] operates on a deceptively simple yet lethal mechanism. Each time Ryan strikes an enemy or is struck in return, a “Gospel” mark is applied to the assailant. These marks accumulate quickly, needing only five contacts to reach full potency. Once the fifth mark is placed, Ryan can trigger a detonation that unleashes damage fixed at 20% of the enemy’s maximum vitality. Should the enemy’s vitality be teetering below 20% at the moment of detonation, the effect transitions from damaging to deadly, activating a “kill” effect that renders any form of immortality or resurrection null and void, ensuring a definitive end for the foe.

Despite the apparent complexity of stacking five “Gospel” marks, the process is expedited by the bidirectional nature of the marking whether Ryan is the aggressor or the target aids in swiftly reaching the necessary count. This flexibility provides Ryan with strategic control over the timing of the detonation, allowing him to choose the most opportune moment to unleash the “kill” effect, a capability that proves invaluable against formidable adversaries with robust defenses.

As for the final professional skill, [Tide of Pain], it holds a special place in Ryan’s arsenal. Like its precursor skill from the [Gluttony Hunter] class, it enhances professional compatibility through a cyclic interplay of enduring “pain” and experiencing “joy.” However, it diverges by translating “Pain Value” directly into tangible increases in [Physique] and [Spirituality], rather than just facilitating progression.

The accumulation of “Pain Value” requires Ryan to frequently enter a state of “severe injury” a condition that would be daunting and recovery-intensive for most. Yet, with the aid of the [Heart of Gluttony] and [Relic·Embrace of Blood], Ryan turns things around with surprising ease, likening the recovery to everyday activities like breathing or drinking water. This unique ability allows him to rapidly stack up to the 25% threshold within mere hours. The real challenge, then, lies in initiating the “Joy after Pain” process once the cap is reached, a challenge he contemplates tackling during his travels.

Unlike the more public rituals of career advancement, the “Joy after Pain” is intensely personal, demanding no witnesses, only Ryan’s own confrontation with his resilience and capacity for recovery.

In the hallowed confines of the sacred duel arena, Ryan allowed himself a moment of reflection. The long and arduous journey, filled with trials both physical and spiritual, had finally culminated in significant growth, catapulting his abilities to new heights. He perused his updated panel with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation:

Captain: Ryan Leland

Age: 18

[Bloodline]: Descendant of the Vikings

[Title]: Son of Blood, Son of Overthrow, God-Slayer (When facing enemies of gods, resistance to various abnormalities increases by 30%)

[Talent]: Soul of the Otherworld

[Spiritual]: 8.8→24

[Physical]: 36.06→40.26

[Path Occupation]:

First level – Glutton Hunter (100%), Pirate (100%)

Tier 2: Apostle of Joy (0%), Storm Warrior (0%)

[Professional Skills]:

Level 1 – [Gluttony Hunter]: Food War, Gluttony Heart, Blood Hunt; [Pirate]: High-spirited War Roar, One-handed Weapon Specialization, Water War Specialization

Tier 2: [Apostle of Joy]: Aura of Joy, Tide of Pain, Gospel; [Storm Fighter]: Brave Strike, Storm Body, Throwing Expertise Enhancement

[Learning skills]: Storm Sword (Master), Navigation (Beginner), Wonder Items (Beginner)

[Special skills]: Dragon Helm (Master)

Ryan’s journey through pain, recovery, and ultimate growth not only defined his character but also his destiny as a formidable warrior, forever chasing the elusive joy found in the heart of battle.

As Ryan stood amidst the remnants of the grand battle, he marveled at the remarkable leap in his capabilities, his gaze lingering on the panel that detailed his latest achievements. His titles [God Slayer] and [Storm Swordsmanship (Master)] served as potent reminders of his recent confrontations.

[God Slayer] was a title born from vanquishing the remnants of a deity, bestowing upon him enhanced resilience against celestial entities and their capricious powers. Meanwhile, [Storm Swordsmanship (Master)], a level he achieved after mastering the formidable [Storm Sword Technique – Dividing the Sea], had advanced almost imperceptibly, a testament to his growing mastery that could easily be overlooked amid more dramatic victories.

His spiritual and physical attributes, augmented by six new professional skills, now painted a picture of strength that Ryan found difficult to quantify. Yet, he was certain of one thing: should the God of Destiny’s remains or Pope Libra challenge him again, even with constraints on his spiritual power, the battle would likely be a swift and decisive victory.

A knowing smile curved Ryan’s lips as he reflected on these profound gains. His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed the golden shield that once bordered the Holy Duel Arena had vanished, replaced by a cascade of golden light speckles that seemed to cleanse the darkness of the eternal night, touching every corner of the island.

As the light bathed the land, the petrified monsters dissolved into streams of light, retreating into the underground maze. The entrance to this labyrinth, crafted from the remains of the God of Death, began its descent into the earth, vanishing without a trace.

The landscape bore the scars of battle, yet without the devastation, it might have all seemed like a fleeting dream.

In the aftermath, the faith of the islanders in the God of Libra had evaporated. The once vibrant light screen that hovered in the sky now lay in ruins, its remnants faintly illuminated by the “Divine Artifact – Sacred Libra.” This glow, no longer fed by faith, flickered like the dying light of a setting sun.

As the Holy Duel Arena hovered silently, Ryan turned to see Fire Witch Milanla approaching. Her visage was as pale as parchment, yet she moved with a determined grace toward him.

The arena beneath them cracked, disintegrating into countless particles of light, and as they descended gently to the platform below, the quiet was finally broken.

“Red Kite…”

Ryan’s voice filled the silence.

“Knight Purple Wind, thank you for your aid.”

“The reward I promised lies within the treasury at the heart of Saint Tos Palace. Once Ariel awakens, present this token to her,” Milanla instructed, handing Ryan an earring that flickered with the essence of flames.

With her task complete, she turned slowly and made her way to the ice coffin. As she gazed upon the girl whose cheeks were now tinged with color, life pulsing stronger within her, a serene smile touched Milanla’s lips. Her form began to fade from the edges, becoming as ephemeral as the light around them, a poignant reminder of the ephemeral nature of their victory and the enduring spirit required to face what lay ahead.

Ryan stood a few paces from the ice coffin, his brow furrowed in concern and confusion.

“I’m dying,” Milanla revealed, turning to him with a serene, yet melancholic smile. “Did you think using the secret technique to reverse life and death, and wielding the artifact, the sacred scales came without a cost?”

Her voice was gentle, imbued with a resignation that made the weight of her sacrifice palpable. “I know you have questions, Ryan, but time isn’t a luxury I possess anymore…”

“You should speak with my sister, Yellow Sand, later. She knows everything I do…”

As she spoke, Milanla leaned forward, her hand reaching into the ice coffin to caress the face of the girl lying within. Her touch was tender, filled with love and farewell. At her touch, the girl’s eyelashes fluttered, her blue-gold eyes slowly opening, revealing the depths of the sea within them, initially clouded but swiftly clearing.

The girl, the real Water Drop Princess Ariel, parted her lips, her voice hoarse yet unmistakably clear, “…Mi…Lanla.”

“It’s me, Ariel. Long time no see,” Milanla replied, her smile warm yet tinged with the sadness of parting. The edges of her form grew more translucent with each passing second.

Ariel’s eyes widened in a mix of shock and awakening. She tried to lift her hand, a simple gesture that seemed monumental given her frailty. When her fingers finally touched Milanla, they met no resistance, passing through as though through mist.

“Though this is cruel…” Milanla continued, her smile unwavering, “Do you remember your vow, Ariel? To forge a world free from theocratic oppression, a sanctuary where witches and all folk can thrive without fear? I may not witness it, but I believe in your strength to make it real. You always had such confidence, such optimism…”

“Don’t cry, Ariel. You’re far from the frail image you once held…”

Tears escaped Ariel’s eyes, her dormant memories stirring, awakening to the enormity of the sacrifice made for her life. She tried to speak, to grasp the fleeting particles of light that slipped through her fingers, but words failed her as Milanla’s form dissipated into a swarm of glowing red particles, scattering like butterflies in the wind.

Behind him, Ryan heard the soft patter of footsteps. He didn’t need to turn; he knew it was Huang Bing, her presence marked by a restrained grief that even her clenched fists couldn’t hide.

“Elder sister…” her voice broke the heavy silence, trembling with sorrow.

The red particles paused momentarily, as if casting a final, apologetic glance back before vanishing into the ether.

Ariel, newly awakened from her icy slumber, sat disoriented, her hands lingering in the air, struggling with the reality of her rebirth. Ryan stepped closer, the crisp sound of his footsteps echoing softly. Ariel’s gaze shifted, drawn to the flame-like dance of the earrings in Ryan’s palm fiery and vibrant, a lasting emblem of Milanla’s spirit, forever flickering in the physical realm.