Captain – Chapter 305 – The Devil’s Joke

Bivis didn’t answer, only slightly lowering his head.

After a long silence, he finally laughed bitterly, then looked up at the young woman, gently shaking his head: “I have no evidence, nor can I tell you the deeper secrets. So trying to persuade you is naturally just a foolish dream.”

Roy said nothing, but her eyes conveyed the message: “At least you’re self-aware.”

She wasn’t surprised by this outcome, because once all truths were revealed, he would have no more value to her and would become a disposable pawn.

The scholar knew this, but he understood even more clearly that even if he laid everything bare, it wouldn’t decisively help his persuasion. The young woman might still maintain her position and treat his advice as mere noise.

More likely, it could have an extremely severe countereffect.

If Roy learned his true identity—no, even if she only confirmed some of her suspicions—then any hope of persuasion or alliance would be futile. He would likely be thrown overboard immediately, consumed by the cursed flames, or worse…

Thinking about the pirates’ hatred toward him and those torturous methods where death was desired but unattainable, the scholar turned away, gazing at the dark sea, not wanting the captain to see his flickering eyes or discern his unsettled emotions.

This time, the young woman didn’t guess the scholar’s thoughts, assuming he was merely discouraged by his failure to persuade her. She too looked into the distance, saying calmly: “My disbelief isn’t personal. I’ve experienced deeply scarring betrayal, making it difficult to trust others.”

Roy had indeed experienced many betrayals, but that was inevitable for a pirate, especially as captain of a ghost ship like the Mermaid—nothing special.

So the deeply scarring betrayal she mentioned referred to just two instances, or rather, two people.

Robert and Richi.

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“But rest assured, I don’t trust that devil either. I’ll keep your stories in mind, and if I find evidence proving he’s truly evil and deserves death, no one will need to persuade me—I’ll know what to do.”

Having said this, Roy seemed to breathe easier. She secretly glanced at her first mate, and seeing those azure eyes still full of support and encouragement, her mood improved somewhat.

Idle talk aside… though it wasn’t entirely idle, the real task before them was still the Acherousian Lighthouse, so the young woman naturally shifted the conversation.

“Tell me about the tower.”

Now that eternal night had come, the song had emerged, and the lighthouse’s position was confirmed, Roy naturally wanted to know specific details about it.

Such as its structure, height, potential problems, curses that needed breaking, and most importantly, how to light the lighthouse—so they wouldn’t be clueless when they arrived.

Hearing the young woman’s question, the scholar seemed to finally regain his composure. His finger tapped lightly on the railing as he began describing the lighthouse: “A lighthouse is just a lighthouse. Even if named after a deity and built with supposedly eternal ice, it’s fundamentally no different from ordinary lighthouses.”

“It might be taller, but at least its structure isn’t innovative—a spiral staircase leading to the tower top, open viewing platforms on each level—I imagine you know all this.”

“Yes, let’s skip these details.”

Although Roy wasn’t an architecture enthusiast and pirates rarely needed lighthouse guidance, she had seen many and explored some out of curiosity, naturally understanding ordinary lighthouse structures.

“The ice isn’t cold or slippery, just extremely hard, so you needn’t worry about freezing or falling. No matter how cruel that devil is, he wouldn’t joke about such important matters.”

Bivis’s eyes revealed a hint of reminiscence as he continued: “So, if you can find its location and successfully reach the tower top, only one problem remains.”

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“How to light the fire.”

This question seemed somewhat redundant—even the most foolish pirate could start a fire with flint and fuel.

But Roy knew that since this was the devil’s handiwork, it certainly wouldn’t be so simple.

After all, fire-lighting depends on the environment, and not all fuels can burn in a lighthouse made of solid ice.

Moreover, if it were that simple, the siren wouldn’t need to lose her life as the scholar had mentioned, and the race wouldn’t face extinction, contradicting the devil’s intentions in naming the lighthouse.

So the captain already had some guesses about the fire-lighting method, just waiting for Bivis to continue.

“Siren blood is the world’s finest fuel, capable of producing a deep sea-blue flame that can burn for decades, illuminating great distances.”

Song guides the way, blood fuels the fire—the devil truly knew how to “maximize utility.”

The scholar’s answer matched Roy’s guess. She sighed silently, a persistent coldness rising in her heart.

She now understood somewhat why the devil had exterminated the siren race.

The lighthouse was the door to Satin Island, and that door had a lock. For safety and secrecy, there could only be one lock… only one key.

If other sirens remained alive, their songs would become beacons guiding them to this door, and the blood flowing in their veins would compromise the key’s uniqueness. Therefore, apart from the siren chosen by the devil, the rest…

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Not one could remain.

This was the reason—too absurd and cruel for humans to comprehend or execute, only possible for a devil.

After waiting a while without the captain’s urging, Bivis turned to look at her, seeing a thoughtful expression on her fair face. Realizing she now partially believed his words, a satisfied smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

This was an opportunity, and he excelled at seizing opportunities.

“Aren’t you curious, Captain, why the siren at the Acherousian Lighthouse continues singing day and night, awaiting the devil’s chosen one, despite her people being slaughtered, herself imprisoned for centuries, and her ultimate fate being death?”

Roy was indeed curious about this question. She widened her eyes at the scholar, warning him not to be mysterious but to speak quickly.

“That’s because it isn’t her singing.”

Bivis was direct this time: “Though sirens are legendary creatures, they aren’t deities. They still need daily water and food to avoid starvation. And while their lifespans are long, they certainly couldn’t survive until today.”

“So the devil devised a method—encasing her in a crystal coffin with a curse, slowing her life’s ebbing.”

“Though Captain Edward was remarkable, he hadn’t completely taken the Lady’s power and naturally couldn’t grant others immortality, only using this method.”

Watching the young woman’s slightly flickering eyes, the scholar’s voice grew colder than snow, more shocking than thunder, as if condemning that devil: “Before this, to prevent the siren from escaping, Edward broke her wings and placed a curse on her, ensuring she could never pass through the door leading from the tower top.”

Unable to exit the lighthouse’s top level, with broken wings, naturally she couldn’t leave—only gaze distantly at the far sky and sea through the windows. What desperate despair that must be!

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“Why didn’t she jump from the lighthouse?”

Roy’s tone was somewhat dejected. She wasn’t suggesting the siren should have died earlier, merely puzzled.

After all, sometimes death might be a more beautiful destination than life, just as the scholar had countless times wished for death while trapped on the Victoria.

“Why?”

The scholar answered softly: “Because the devil excels at manipulating hearts, whether his pawns, unrelated strangers, or closest friends.”

“He first gives you the deepest despair, then a glimmer of light. I can even imagine his expression and tone—he would say, ‘If you do as I ask, on the day of your release, the souls of all your sisters and relatives will find true peace.'”

The sea held countless curses, including vicious types that trapped souls in eternal suffering. Naturally, people sought ways to break these curses, especially when those trapped might be their relatives or dearest friends.

Her people certainly qualified.

Roy understood why the siren chose the crystal coffin over death. She sighed heavily, her mood quite somber—but this wasn’t everything.

Because the scholar laughed again, full of mockery.

“Unfortunately, it was all false—just the devil’s joke.”