The sea of the West Blue had never been this calm before…
Gern Reginald Sigmar stood on the deck of the warship, one hand resting on the hilt of the black blade Bahuang, his gaze fixed on the faint outline of an island slowly emerging on the horizon.
"Report! Ashen Harbor is straight ahead!" a Marine hurried forward, unease laced through his voice."According to intelligence, the Bloodspear Pirates landed here this morning…"
"This morning…" Gern narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing.
Ashen Harbor—once a famous fishing town of the West Blue, renowned for its luminous pearls. Generations of villagers had lived peacefully off the sea, their lives simple yet prosperous.
But now, the town that should have been bathed in morning light was wrapped in a suffocating, unnatural silence.
As the warship slowly docked, a stench drifted through the air—burnt flesh, blood, and rot.
Gern's brow creased almost imperceptibly.
"Something's wrong…" a Marine behind him swallowed hard. "It's too quiet…"
When the ship finally docked, everyone froze.
Blood.
The entire port had been dyed a dark crimson. Thick, sticky pools had yet to dry, and boots squelched sickeningly with every step.
Bodies lay scattered everywhere—some impaled through the chest by spears and nailed to crates, others hacked apart and discarded like torn rags.
"Ugh—!"A young Marine couldn't hold it in and bent over, retching violently.
Gern didn't stop. He stepped forward, his boots sinking slightly into the gore-stained dock.
On both sides of the street, buildings had been burned down to blackened skeletons. The flames were long extinguished, but smoke still lingered in the air.
Charred corpses curled amid the ruins, frozen in the final agony of their deaths.
Fishing boats that once crowded the harbor had been reduced to skeletal husks drifting on the water. Beneath the surface, faint shapes could be seen—sunken bodies, like drowned fish.
And this was only the harbor.
"Those pirate bastards…" a Marine behind Gern growled, fists clenched until his knuckles cracked.
Gern kept walking, his expression carved from ice.
When he reached the town itself—
The entire place had become hell.
Corpses were piled grotesquely along the streets. Some were pinned to walls with spears; others had their abdomens ripped open, entrails trailing across the ground like dark red carpets.
Children's bodies hung from ropes tied to the lighthouse, swaying gently in the sea breeze.
Their throats had been slit cleanly, blood long since drained, hollow eyes staring blankly toward the sky.
At the entrance of a tavern, a man's severed head had been impaled atop a Marine flagpole. His jaw had been forced open, a luminous pearl shoved into his mouth—
A grotesque "decoration," crafted from Ashen Harbor's own pride.
At the center of town stood a tower.
A tower of corpses.
Dozens of bodies were stacked together, forming a gruesome monument. At the very top lay a naked little girl, draped in a Marine flag.
Her throat had been slit. Her hands were nailed to wooden posts, spread open like a butterfly pinned for display.
Yet her eyes remained open, hollow and empty, staring endlessly into the sky—as if asking a question no one could answer.
"Th-this… this isn't human…" one Marine finally broke, screaming as his mind collapsed.
Gern stood before the tower in silence, his gaze terrifyingly deep, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles sank white.
So this was the truth behind those romanticized pirate banquets…
Behind the stories of freedom and adventure lay burned cities, children clutching their mothers in death, and civilians nailed to masts like decorations.
This was the so-called freest adventure in the world.
"Report! Lieutenant Gern! We found survivors on the eastern side!" a Marine shouted as he ran over.
"Take me there."Gern turned instantly and strode toward a half-collapsed warehouse.
Inside, several militia members lay crumpled in the corner, soaked in blood. One was still alive—barely.
His abdomen had been pierced through; blood continued to pour out, soaking the straw beneath him.
"Hang on! Medics are on the way!" a Marine cried as he rushed to stop the bleeding.
The man weakly raised his hand and grabbed the Marine's collar with trembling fingers.
"They… they did it on purpose…" he rasped.
"What?" the Marine froze.
"The pirates… they let us send the distress call…"His pupils began to dilate."They wanted… to lure you here…"
Gern's gaze turned icy.
At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed outside.
"Lieutenant Gern! Bloodspear Pirates spotted at the eastern port! They never left!"
Gern slowly rose beside the lifeless body."So it was a hunt."
The Bloodspear Pirates had slaughtered the entire town—just to bait the Marines into a trap.
"T-Those monsters…" a Marine whispered, pale with fear.
Gern slung the black blade Bahuang across his back and walked toward the exit, his voice cold and steady.
"Direction."
The young Marine stiffened before answering, "E–Eastern port. They're still there."
"Mm."
Gern moved without hesitation, his footsteps steady, the black blade swaying slightly behind him.
Marines along the path snapped to attention, awe and reverence filling their eyes.
"Lieutenant Gern!" a young Marine ran up hesitantly. "We… we—"
"Move the warship out," Gern said without stopping. "Anyone who escapes—kill them."
"B-but sir… how many men will you take?"
"None."
His silhouette stretched long beneath the sunlight."I alone am enough."
"But that's the Bloodspear Pirates—!"
The words died in the Marine's throat.
Gern had stopped.
His gaze locked onto the small body wrapped in the Marine flag.
The girl had already been taken down, but the blue-and-white cloth still fluttered like a slap across the face.
"All hands!" Gern roared, his voice shaking the harbor.
Every Marine froze.
"Take down every flag on this ship!" His voice trembled with restrained fury.
"Lieutenant—!"
Gern turned slowly, his eyes burning as they passed over each young face before settling once more on the child's corpse.
"Justice that arrives too late…"His voice was quiet, but it struck like a hammer."…isn't justice at all."
As Gern walked toward the edge of the harbor, silence swallowed the air behind him.
One Marine clenched his fist.
Then another.
And another.
"Take down the flags!!!" they shouted in unison.