Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: First Professional Battle!
The ocean roared beneath them, waves cresting with violent bursts of white foam as they crashed against the ship. On the deck of the ‘Black Rose’, tension hung as thick as the salty sea spray in the air.

“Swordsman” Il’s gaze settled on the young man before him, a large sword slung awkwardly at his side. The midday sun cast a harsh light, draping a halo of golden brilliance around the young man’s silhouette.

Despite his formidable appearance of his sword, this young warrior, known as Ryan Leland, seemed the least threatening when compared to the more sinister figures of the Dark Moon Witch and the Knight Girl. Il could discern this with a mere glance at Ryan’s spiritual essence, which shimmered weakly around him.

The essence of a warrior’s prowess, after all, lay in their spirituality, the deeper and more vibrant this force, the greater the harmony between the warrior and their chosen path, and the more potent their abilities.

Ryan Leland exuded a raw, almost monstrous ferocity, yet his spiritual essence was undeniably muted. The [Golden Rule], an ancient and unfailing measure, confirmed Il’s assessment.

Marked with the “blood mark,” Ryan had been nothing more than a common man until recently. Mere then a few days ago, an unknown event had catapulted him into the realm of first-level professionals. Fresh into his role, his spiritual strength was paltry at best. Likely, he struggled with the basics of his newfound abilities, let alone mastering the “universal secret techniques” or “exclusive secret methods” that could set a novice apart from a master.

Il, on the other hand, had been blessed with the [War Song], a boon that effectively doubled his combat efficacy. Surely, with such an advantage, defeat was inconceivable.

These thoughts flickered through Il’s mind as he quashed the stirring of unease within his chest. Decision firming, he abandoned any last vestiges of hesitation and surged forward in attack.

A radiant shimmer of white light enveloped him as he activated the [First-Level Soldier]’s core skill [Charge]. A seemingly simple ability, yet devastatingly effective, it allowed him to bridge the gap between himself and Ryan in the blink of an eye, all the while boosting his subsequent strike with enhanced force and speed.

Il unleashed his black long sword with a furious swipe, channeling dense spiritual power into the blade. The move was his formidable [Sword Skill – Charged Slash], aimed horizontally at the delicate skin of Ryan’s neck.

The combination of [Charge], [Sword Skill-Charged Slash], and the empowering [War Song] magnified the ferocity of Il’s attack to its zenith. Against a novice, first-level professional, Il, fortified by his advantages, poured his entire might into the onslaught from the outset.

Step by cautious step, such vigilance had carried Il to the threshold of the second level.

The edge of his sword was so keen that it caused the air near Ryan’s neck to prickle menacingly even before the metal could meet flesh.

Yet Ryan’s gaze remained undisturbed, a serene pool of calm.

This was his inaugural clash against a true professional. The last adversary he had faced was merely a robust ordinary man skilled with a scimitar. Perhaps it was the myriad of conflicts he had weathered in his travels, but not a flicker of panic stirred within him now.

In his eyes, how could these human foes compare to the colossal monsters he had battled, creatures that dwarfed him in size tenfold or more? Though his current incarnation lacked the formidable strength of his adventurous alter ego, was this opponent truly as daunting as a single claw from those behemoths?

As Il’s blade bore down, slicing through the mere meter of air separating it from its target, Ryan acted. With a swift, fluid motion, he drew his own weapon, a gleaming silver-blue sword.

The clash of metal echoed sharply, reverberating as spiritual energies clashed tumultuously. The impact sent Il staggering back, his face draining of color as he fought to regain his footing after several involuntary steps. His hands trembled on the hilt of his sword as he stared in disbelief at the young man who had so deftly parried his strike, now standing poised and ready.

“Such power… such power… how is it possible?!” Il gasped, the shock etched deeply across his features.

Despite the overwhelming force of his triple-boosted attack, Il found himself bested in this direct confrontation.

–A monster indeed!

The only thought coursing through “Sword Master” Il’s mind was disbelief at the monstrous strength before him.

He had utterly miscalculated.

The young man standing against him, while not as formidable as the fearsome knight girl, was clearly no ordinary first-level professional. The sheer magnitude of power unleashed was something beyond the scope of any typical professional training, was this some kind of innate divine strength?

Il’s mind raced for an explanation, but he had no time to ponder further.

Ryan was already in motion.

“Kill!!!”

His cry, laden with spiritual force, reverberated across the deck, sending a wave that jolted Il, disrupting his concentration. The resonant [High-spirited War Roar] not only jarred Il but also muddled the effects of the [War Poem] that Lord Sproul played in the background, diminishing its influence dramatically.

A pale white aura enveloped Ryan, signaling a surge of morale enhancement boosting his physical prowess.

With a thunderous crash, Ryan’s boot hit the deck, propelling him forward. In a blink, he was upon Il, his sword slashing downward with lethal intent.

Il, seasoned by years of disciplined swordplay and momentarily bolstered by the remnants of the [War Poem], slipped into a state of heightened focus. Though it lasted less than a second, it was just enough for him to snap back to reality as the looming blade filled his vision.

It was too late to evade.

In desperation, Il grasped his sword with both hands, bracing it horizontally to intercept the descending blow.

“Bang——”

The impact was titanic. Despite Il’s teeth-gritted resistance, the power behind Ryan’s strike overwhelmed his defenses. The sword smashed through El’s guard, the blade driving deep into his shoulder as blood spurted, staining the deck crimson.

The shock of the blade embedding itself in his flesh was matched only by the realization of his dire predicament.

The immense force of the blow drove Il to his knees, his body crashing heavily against the wooden deck. The right half of his body numb and unresponsive, he felt a terrifying loss of control.

The exertion was so extreme that Il’s eyes bulged, bloodshot and wild, as blood trickled from his ears, nostrils, and the corners of his mouth. Staring up with a face twisted in agony and disbelief, he couldn’t fathom how he, with far superior spiritual strength, had been so thoroughly bested by Ryan Rayland’s sword.

Across from him, Ryan’s face remained impassive, though internally, he was taken aback. His strike hadn’t even been fully charged, yet it had brought this formidable-looking adversary to his knees? The surprise quickly gave way to understanding as he reviewed the calculations in his mind.

Typically, a first-level professional’s [Physique] ranged from 2.0 to 2.5, depending on their specific training focus. In contrast, Ryan’s baseline [Physique] stood at an impressive 3.09, and with the morale boost factored in, it escalated to approximately 3.4.

He had unleashed the [Storm Sword Skill-Broken Waves], and even with just a “half-charged” enhancement, the power of his slash soared to a staggering 5.1, a coefficient increase of 1.5 due to the technique used.

Professional growth typically manifested through advancements in secret techniques and spiritual power. [Physique], on the other hand, rarely changed unless influenced by significant realm advancements or exceptional circumstances.

With his various augmentations, Il’s [Physique] was around 3.5, a full 45% lower than Ryan’s enhanced 5.1. A disparity of 20% was notable; 30% could be devastating. But 45%? It was a sheer rout.

Thus, the reason behind Il’s swift defeat became painfully clear, he had been overwhelmed by a single, mighty stroke.