Captain – Chapter 688 – Why Not Fight to Find Out?

“I told you, you should forget about me.”

This was the first thing the person on the throne said after a long standoff and silence. It was colder than snow, lighter than water, yet the meaning behind it was utterly direct.

That the young woman shouldn’t have come here, shouldn’t have boarded the eerie ship, thinking to take him away.

She certainly shouldn’t have approached that devil.

And faced with this sudden… reproach? The resentment and grievance Roy harbored toward that person was surprisingly not ignited. She only paused slightly.

Somewhat surprised, but quickly understanding.

The surprise was that after being pierced through the heart by the black blade, he could still retain autonomous consciousness and hadn’t attacked the moment he saw her—this was already astounding.

The reason she quickly understood was because through her knowledge of their ancestor, she realized this was another tedious psychological tactic, though not one led by that devil.

In other words, even with a blade that could control life and death, that devil could hardly truly control this descendant who was only one step away from perfection—he could only attempt to influence him.

Just as he had stripped away nearly all emotions, leaving only that thread of obsession with his child.

Thus, as someone viewing this world with a devil’s perspective, someone who understood her heart and strength, someone entering the game as a selfless father…

Of course there was only one choice: to say those words.

And then drive her away, the farther the better.

For the young woman whose thoughts moved like wind, such simple, clear matters required no deep consideration. In an instant she had seen through everything completely, and only then was the anger in her heart stirred up.

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“Should I say I admire you?”

When responding to those words, Roy was equally cold in expression and voice, and at the corners of her lips there was even a trace of mockery: “Admire how you can still be so clear-headed after being pierced through the heart by the death goddess’s black blade and drifting here for who knows how many years.”

“Rational as a block of ice, wanting to drive me away the moment I arrive?”

Though she had so many complaints to voice and seemed to have endless anger toward that person, after saying these words, the young woman’s blade-like cold words still stopped.

Because she knew it was meaningless, whether for the other party or for this obvious situation.

No matter what she said, the person before her wouldn’t change his mind, because he no longer retained any emotions, sitting high on his throne just like that devil.

Only that pitiful obsession remained.

At this point, Roy couldn’t help but recall the words their ancestor had said before she stepped through that gate, thinking: yes, this matter was indeed much more interesting than simple fighting and killing.

Watching a child who had followed her father’s footsteps and searched bitterly for twenty years reach the end, only to discover everything was already beyond change, with that person even advising her to leave.

How could it not be ironic and interesting?

Without needing to guess, Roy knew that even if that devil couldn’t see the scene here, his lips were probably now curved in the same sly, detestable smile as before.

But now, she was not as easily frightened as when they first met.

This kind of trick would only make her angry, and then more determined.

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At some point, her fists that had been hanging at her sides and trembling constantly gradually stabilized. Roy lowered her head slightly and exhaled softly. When she raised it again, no emotion could be seen on her face.

Only calm—not the calm before a storm, but steady composure in the face of wind and snow.

“Do you know how long I’ve been searching for you?”

The young woman’s light words reached his ears, but the person on the throne, who had remained silent since speaking those words, still showed no intention of speaking, only quietly watching her.

There was hidden affection in his eyes, but no sign of struggle.

The wind and snow were his will, so naturally they couldn’t be melted away by a single sentence.

But quite coincidentally, the captain hadn’t planned to wait for that person’s answer either. She immediately continued: “It should be twenty years. Unlike that devil, I don’t plan to live forever, so this time is long enough.”

“At least… in my not particularly smooth life.”

Looking at that face that seemed unchanged yet actually hid too much weariness and sorrow beneath its coldness, Roy couldn’t help but pause before saying very seriously:

“I think it should be the same for you.”

Not everyone wanted to never die, to touch the other shore—just like her who wanted to end everything, like the man before her who was willing to forever lose his bloodline for her sake.

Though she never said it, she had always acknowledged in her heart that he was a remarkable person, able to sit across from the previous Great Captain, able to battle the Pirate King to this point.

But just like the reason for his failure, in the end, the curse was still deeply inscribed within him.

Once Edward died, the curse of the devil’s lineage—or rather, the blessing—would be completely severed. Except for her, all of that person’s descendants would fall back to the mortal world.

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The person before her was naturally the same.

So twenty years was truly long, and the suffering brought by that length of time was inescapable.

“Since you were willing to use this time, to use something possibly more important than life and death, to exchange for my future, then how could I possibly retreat after coming this far?”

The person on the throne still gave no response, but Roy’s face showed no disappointment either. They looked like two strangers, with one telling her own story.

Trying to convince the other—no, rather trying to convince herself.

Convince herself to forget that inevitable ending, to move forward, and never look back.

“Though I must say, I really do hate you, can’t help wanting to beat you until you’re covered in bruises, but in the end that’s all—and can only be—a matter between us.”

“A matter for our family.”

As she spoke, Roy’s eyes gradually brightened, her left hand having unknowingly moved to the scabbard at her waist, lifting it slightly, just like her slightly upturned face at this moment.

“And before that, I’m going to take you back, and I won’t let that blade go either.”

“Then I’ll go settle the final score with that devil.”

Hearing the young woman’s resounding declaration, seeing the scattered snowflakes that fled in all directions rather than dare approach her body due to the fighting spirit rising from her, the person on the throne finally reacted. He denied her in a flat tone:

“No one can do it.”

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One sentence, yet it seemed to deny two things simultaneously.

In his view, taking himself and the blade away, and defeating the devil, were both impossible—not defeatist talk or post-defeat psychological damage, but simply fact.

But whether it was because the young woman’s face was truly endearing, even better-looking than he had imagined and speculated when they had met earlier than that previous time.

Or because the expression on it was too calm, not seeming like it would be moved even slightly by these words, the man remained silent for a moment before adding: “It’s already too late.”

Whether to save him or kill the devil…

It was already too late.

“But without trying, how could I be satisfied?”

Accompanied by a slight scraping sound, the Iskavian curved blade—though in darkness, still gleaming bright from candlelight and ice crystals—was drawn from its sheath amid the young woman’s soft laughter.

Then slowly aimed at the iron throne, aimed at the bridge of that person’s nose.

“You don’t know that I’ve always held to the concept that strength comes first, and that hasn’t changed now. To put it simply, whoever has the bigger fist is right.”

“And if someone suddenly appears, making me unable to tell who’s stronger between us, then the method of verification is quite simple—nothing more than having a fight.”

“Without fighting, how could I know whether I can win or not? Don’t you think so…”

“Dad.”