Captain – Chapter 579 – The Shield That Rises Against the Wind

“Tap, tap…”

Outside a cramped room in the Nightmare King’s cabin, footsteps suddenly rang out.

Hearing those unhurried steps, like a wildcat stalking a desperate mouse, the man hiding under the bed held his breath, his heart beating uncontrollably.

“Creak.”

Accompanied by a grating sound, the wooden door was pushed open.

Because the room was in a remote location and had been abandoned for a long time, there were no oil lamps installed outside. Even with the door open, no light spilled in, leaving the interior still shrouded in darkness.

This also meant searching would be very difficult.

And the man hadn’t just crawled under the bed, but had entered a deeper hidden compartment. This was something he had specially prepared, a hiding place that even the captain didn’t know about.

Though once at sea, a warship became an isolated island, and no matter how long one hid it was impossible to escape, having this preparation was better than having none. After all, who could predict worldly affairs?

Perhaps someday it would come in handy.

Just like now.

But despite hiding in this secret place, with the room dark and lightless, logically no one should be able to discover him, yet hearing the approaching footsteps, the man remained extremely nervous.

After all, the one pursuing him was no ordinary person.

But an expert equally skilled in concealment, an executioner who favored assassination from the shadows.

One of the five legendary pirates—the Blood-Eyed Butcher.

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Blinking hard to clear the stinging from cold sweat entering his eyes, the man suppressed his breathing while peering through the small hole used for ventilation toward the outside.

Having adapted to the darkness for a long time, the man could vaguely see a corner of the blood-colored robe, see that person stop before the bed, then turn toward his direction.

At this moment, let alone breathing, the man didn’t dare even the slightest tremor.

He was rigid all over, making almost no sound, like a dried corpse left for countless years.

The man’s wide eyes reflected those boots, until his spirit and body were nearly at the breaking point, when the figure standing before the bed finally left.

Only after the pursuer exited the room did the man suddenly revive, breathing heavily yet carefully, discovering his back was already soaked through with sweat.

Lying flat, every part of his body revealed the joy of escaping death, even the corners of his mouth slightly lifted in an ugly smile.

But the good times didn’t last long, especially that smile, which froze after just a moment.

Looking at the small insect close at hand, pressed against the wooden board and emitting colorful fluorescent light, the man was briefly stunned, then immediately pushed open the hidden compartment’s wooden board and crawled out, screaming as he crawled, as if trying to scare off his opponent.

Fortunately, even after crawling out of the bed, the small insect didn’t strike him.

But unfortunately…

Trembling as he raised his head, looking at the youth whose face was hidden in shadow, looking down at him from above, the man crawled backward frantically until he hit the wall.

“First Mate Ferguson, you really know how to run.”

Richi extended his finger to retrieve the small insect, placing it back in the crystal tube in the hidden pocket at his chest, speaking lightly while simultaneously reaching to draw the short blade at his waist.

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“No, no, no, Captain Richi, you can’t kill me. I still have value.”

“Yes, I’m still useful, I’m still useful…”

Watching his opponent approach, Ferguson raised his hands to block in front of him, pleading without hesitation, completely disregarding whether the Nightmare King had actually changed masters.

He knew that without immediately taking a stance, what awaited him would definitely not be any prisoner treaty.

No, now it seemed even pleading was useless.

Stopping before the man whose eyes were vacant and seemed to have given up hope, the youth gently shook his head: “In my view, I’ll never have a day when I need you.”

“Never.”

Speaking thus, Richi slowly drew two short blades, not worried whether his opponent would resist. Someone like him would only be a cowardly power-seeker until death.

Not even daring to raise a blade—could he even be called a pirate?

Thinking of certain rumors, the youth silently scorned, looking down completely on this so-called master conspirator before him, but just as the blades were half-drawn from their sheaths…

An accident occurred.

Pale golden light flashed, illuminating the room for an instant.

After a faint muffled sound, Richi came to his senses, involuntarily frowning, feeling he had just seen a figure fall into the sea.

A… burning figure.

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A moment later, the youth realized this wasn’t an illusion, because not far outside the porthole, an extremely stable light mist had risen, curling upward toward the sky.

It looked very much like some kind of signal.

The light mist passed through the porthole, naturally illuminating the room and Ferguson’s ashen face. He first blinked in confusion, then like grasping a lifeline, suddenly stood up and lunged at the youth.

Only… his purpose wasn’t to attack.

Ferguson desperately pressed down on the youth’s hands, trying to push those half-drawn short blades back, but no matter how much force he used, he couldn’t make them budge even slightly.

Richi’s strength wasn’t great, but that depended on compared to whom.

Meeting those blood-red pupils close at hand, feeling the indifference and killing intent within them, the man bit his teeth and wouldn’t let go, speaking rapidly: “Captain Richi, now isn’t the time for you to kill me or me to kill you. We need to prepare quickly.”

“We need to immediately have the crew stop fighting, then sail this damned ship as far away as possible, never stopping along the way, otherwise…”

Looking at Ferguson’s pale face that didn’t seem like acting, the youth raised an eyebrow slightly. After a brief silence, he shook off his hands and sheathed his blades, asking expressionlessly.

“Otherwise what?”

Seeing this, the man knew he had escaped death, but still seemed somewhat lost, his lips pressed white. It was a long time before he steadied himself: “Otherwise it will come.”

“It?”

Richi repeated hoarsely. After hearing the description that Ferguson’s trembling lips struggled to squeeze out, he was silent for a while, then without further ado, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outside, leaving only a cold warning.

“I hope you’re not talking nonsense, or I’ll definitely pull out your tongue.”

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On the bridge shrouded by wind and rain, which had in some sense truly become an arena, that strange curved blade finally revealed its prowess, carrying wind currents to break through the rain.

The blade pointed directly at the young man’s heart.

This was a divine artifact from the devil’s hand, meant to help believers establish their footing in the present world. Not only did it possess terrifying magic power, its sharpness far exceeded ordinary blades.

Let alone just a mortal body enhanced by great power—even the hardest metal of the current age couldn’t block it for a moment, only to be cut in two like paper.

This was the source of the Deep Sea Captain’s confidence.

Whether driving wild winds or bringing down rain curtains, his purpose wasn’t to deceive anyone’s eyes and ears, but to trap Caine, making his opponent stop due to being lost.

Thus, this blade wouldn’t miss, and if it didn’t miss…

The young man would surely die.

Perhaps before you die, you’ll see clearly the difference between me and you, see clearly who is unworthy.

Thinking coldly, with only gloom remaining on his face, Talin passed through the rain curtains that consciously made way, advancing like a ghost with the help of those obedient wind currents.

His gaze passed over the curved blade that spread dim light like a heartbeat, falling on Caine who was raising his hands to block. The Deep Sea Captain seemed already able to see the scene of the blade severing his arms and piercing straight into his heart, see his despair before death.

But that exquisite scene never presented itself before his eyes in the end.

Because what met the curved blade was not the young man’s body.

But a shield.