Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 236

Chapter 236: The Source of Miasma!
In the heart of Thundera City, the sprawling, dignified space of the Sky Sword Gym beckoned. Under the vast roof, a woman dressed in green, her movements fluid and deliberate, entered the dojo. Suspended above her was an ancient wooden plaque, boldly inscribed with the characters “Sky Sword Gym.”

The walls of the dojo were lined with racks brimming with various types of one-handed swords, each a silent testament to the challengers who had failed to best the dojo’s leader or his disciples throughout the centuries.

As the woman in green, known as Cross, the current chief of Sky, reached the center of the dojo, a weary voice echoed from the shadows.

“Kross, have you located him?”

The voice, heavy with fatigue, seemed to embody the image of an aged man clinging to the vestiges of strength.

“…Yes, teacher,” Cross responded after a brief pause, her tone a mix of reverence and hesitation.

“Well…”

The flicker of candlelight revealed an elderly figure seated at the far end of the dojo.

“You are no match for him,” the old man declared, his voice resonant with wisdom and resignation. “After years of conflict, the time has come for a resolution.”

“Teacher!” Cross’s voice sharpened with frustration. “Why did you let that traitor escape? With your prowess, Durand stood no chance of fleeing!”

“Hehe,” the figure chuckled, his silhouette dancing in the dim light. “Cross, you underestimate him. Let him come if he dares. Instead of fretting over him, focus on preparing for the finals in three days. Remember, even as my disciple, you won’t inherit the ‘Sky Sword’ if you cannot claim victory.”

“…Yes.” Cross bowed her head, her resolve hardening as she bit back further questions.

Only after she had exited did the old master sigh deeply, a whisper to the empty dojo: “After all, you are not him…”

…

Ryan’s eyes fluttered open to the gentle sway of a bamboo raft moored beside a secluded island. Foregoing the comforts of the Black Rose for this journey, he found himself resorting to the old, humbler means of travel. Standing, he stretched, his neck cracking lightly, the shift from luxury back to simplicity was a stark reminder of the old adage: it is hard to return to frugality after enjoying abundance.

He scanned towards the mast out of habit; seeing no distress letters from Silver, he was reassured. Moving towards the campfire, Ryan prepared to teleport, the glow of the flames casting shadows that danced like the flickering candlelight of the dojo he had left far behind.

Sparks scattered into the dark as Ryan arrived at Bonfire Point within the Corruption Outpost, his latest search in the volcanic region yielding no trace of the elusive glutinous beast. The familiar, pungent stench of the area triggered a flood of memories. Once, fresh off a victory against a high-level monster, a younger, brasher Ryan had charged into this very outpost. He narrowly escaped death thanks to a fortuitous intervention by a Blood Claw Dragon, which took a lethal hit intended for him from an ancient dragon’s fiery breath.

Opting not to rush away, Ryan settled down cross-legged by the campfire, deep in thought as he replayed every detail of that near-fatal encounter. Understanding the ancient dragon’s capabilities could prove crucial.

“The dragon’s powers aren’t typical, no signs of elemental fire, ice, or thunder. Its aura resembled the corrosive miasma of the Rotten Miasma Abyss, but far more potent,” Ryan mused to himself.

This realization underscored the importance of the Elimination Fruits he carried, capable of neutralizing such debilitating effects. “I have just seven fruits left, enough for a few initial attempts at subjugation.”

Ryan knew better than to expect a swift victory; the peril of facing the ancient dragon, could easily outlast the fruits’ protective efficacy. He pondered the apparent discrepancy in the dragon’s strength. “It’s curious. The dragon’s attack was strong enough to critically injure a Blood Claw Dragon, yet it didn’t kill it outright. Could there be a weakness or ailment plaguing? Or perhaps ‘ancient dragon’ refers not to a strength class but to a distinct species altogether?”

Yet, the sheer power of that single attack couldn’t be underestimated, it was still a creature of formidable prowess.

Standing up, Ryan shook off his reverie. “This is all the intel we have. Any further speculation here is pointless. It’s time to delve deeper into the Rotten Miasma.”

With that, he left the warmth of the campfire behind and ventured through the underground cave system, navigating a path he had committed to memory. The toxic miasma that filled these tunnels would deter any ordinary adventurer, but Ryan, with his extraordinary physical resilience, a robust 221.1 was impervious to its effects. Each step took him closer to the heart of the abyss and the mysteries waiting there.

Enhancing [Physical Fitness] is not just about boosting speed and strength; it’s a comprehensive enhancement of one’s entire bodily functions.

Ryan moved swiftly, his enhanced physique carrying him effortlessly to the familiar edges of the shallow miasma zone. It didn’t take long before he reached the very spot where he had previously encountered the ancient dragon. Scanning the area, he furrowed his brow in confusion.

Usually, this area teemed with Pterosaurs, small, flying creatures that, while weak, were numerous and nimble in the air. It was odd that none were visible. “Could something have hunted them all? Something voracious enough not to spare even these lesser beasts?” Ryan mused, his mind racing with possibilities.

A sudden thought struck him. Could the elusive “dark green loofah” have ventured here, perhaps engaging the ancient dragon in a direct confrontation?

Fuelled by this speculation, Ryan pressed on, descending deeper into the terrain. Soon, he stood at the entrance of an immense underground cave, its walls a stark gray-white adorned with sparse vegetation. A thorough search yielded no sign of the “dark green loofah,” prompting a resigned sigh from him.

“I know the loofah is formidable? I’ve seen its strength firsthand. It’s certainly preferable to face something familiar than an ancient dragon, the capabilities of which remain a mystery,” he reflected. Yet, the absence of the loofah suggested it had chosen not to confront the dragon after all, likely deterred by the dragon’s overwhelming presence.

“Is this a sign of the dragon’s terrifying strength, or simply a tactical retreat by the loofah?” Ryan pondered, unsure whether to feel relieved or more alarmed.

His thoughts were abruptly cut off by a subtle shift in the atmosphere. A fine, gray mist began to seep into the cave, its composition reminiscent of dust or swarms of minuscule insects. A primal alarm went off in Ryan’s heart as he realized the cave was quickly filling with this mysterious fog.

—It has appeared!

With a heightened sense of urgency, Ryan gripped the hilt of his greatsword, pulling it from its sheath as his senses sharpened, time seeming to stretch and slow around him.

Emerging from the dense, swirling fog was a figure both graceful and menacing, a creature whose very presence dwarfed the typical aura of dragons. This was no ordinary beast; this was the Ancient Dragon itself, its formidable essence filling the cave, oppressive and commanding, asserting its dominance over every inch of its lair.