The sharp, resonant horn sounded from the observation deck, piercing through the wind and rain, rousing all the passengers. Without having time to dress, some in coats, others in nightgowns, and many barefoot, they rushed to the windows to gaze upon the outside world. Half of them soon spotted the immense three-masted sailing vessel—unusual in its very nature—seeing the three dark sails, and the hazy, trembling yellow patches glowing in the deep darkness. Alongside the roaring wind, the patter of rain, and the night sky devoid of red moon or stars, many passengers felt as though the ship had emerged from hell, bearing an indescribable terror and majesty. "The Black Emperor!" After a brief moment of stunned stillness and panic, this name surfaced in their minds. Anyone who had sailed at sea or lived for some time in the colonial port cities would have heard of such a pirate vessel! "Oh, the storm is with us, just as we are." "May the goddess protect us!" "By the steam!" ... One after another, prayers rose spontaneously, filled with fear and helplessness. These passengers were well aware that the owner of the *Black Emperor* was the highest-paid sea captain in the world, a true king of pirates—someone so formidable that even the combined firepower and crew of multiple national navies could not bring him down. This meant they were now about to fall into pirate hands! Many women could no longer bear the thought of being humiliated and sold off to unfamiliar lands. Some trembled uncontrollably, others collapsed, their knees giving way, slipping from behind the windows and kneeling on the floor. Some quickly drew out daggers and revolvers, either determined to resist or unwilling to face the worst outcome. Others, lacking any weapons, simply moved their coat stands to sit beside them. The men's performance was no better. Aside from a few who drew weapons and attempted to organize resistance, most either stood frozen in disbelief, sought shelter, or cursed the ill-fated passenger ship and the "King of the Seas." Eventually, the captain's voice reached every passenger through some kind of amplification device: "Be quiet! There's no need to fear! The owner of the *Black Emperor* has established his own rules—unlike other pirates—he and his crew only seize goods and never do anything else!" This message was repeated several times, and the panicked passengers gradually calmed down, no longer as terrified as before. Compared to what they had imagined, simply surviving and avoiding further humiliation was already a remarkable outcome. After a few dozen seconds, some passengers found it unbearable that, after years of hard work and perseverance, they had finally accumulated a modest savings, only to see it all vanish now. Overcome with sorrow, they began weeping. Several of them had even taken loans to start their businesses—should they fail to bring back the funds this time, their families would likely be forced to live on the streets, relying on the poorhouse. Thinking of this, they quickly acted, hiding the money in various concealed places, hoping to preserve as much as possible. After completing these preparations, each of them gripped their weapons tightly, ready to die alongside the pirates at the crucial moment. A beast, when dying, still fights back—how much more so a human? At this point, many of the pirates aboard the *Black Emperor* were already stationed along the ship’s sides, poised to leap onto the target vessel as soon as it came within range. Their second-in-command, Lord Bird Masten, the "Count of Fear," was calmly observing the passenger ship through a single-lens telescope, silently calculating the time remaining until the two vessels closed the distance. This seasoned pirate, whose bounty had already surpassed ten thousand pounds, wore a finely patterned, intricate Indist-style shirt at the sleeves and collar, and a dark red captain’s coat, as if he were awaiting the start of an elegant banquet rather than the onset of a raid. Suddenly, he felt a sharp flash before the steam-sail hybrid passenger ship vanished from sight! Bird Masten quickly moved his single-lens telescope to search, but in that direction, aside from the waves whipped up by the gale and the red-headed ospreys that fed on fish during storms, there was nothing else. Such a large steam-and-sail hybrid ship had simply disappeared! "...”Bird Masten’s eyes flickered, unable to make a clear judgment. "Where is the ship?" "Where is such a large ship?" "It was right there just a moment ago!" ... The pirates on deck also noticed something was amiss, and all of them expressed their astonishment. A ghost ship? No—there was no ghost ship of that design. That kind of steam-and-sail hybrid had only become popular over the past few decades. A grand illusion? Had someone used a large-scale illusion to conceal the ship? Such an illusion must be of half-divine caliber. Bird Masten thought it over, then tucked away his telescope and walked toward the ship’s cabin. Throughout this process, it seemed the standard for measuring distance had become unclear. Lord Burd Maste covered a considerable stretch in just a few steps—seven or eight—reaching the level beneath the captain's quarters, where he bowed with due respect: "My Lord Count, something unusual has occurred during the hunt." —On the *Black Emperor*, "The Sovereign of the Five Seas," Nast has always referred to himself as a Count, a title granted by the decree of Emperor Rosel. Of course, he has also publicly declared that he will eventually establish a kingdom of his own, rising to the rank of Duke, Prince, and ultimately Emperor. After a brief silence, a deep and authoritative voice emerged from within the captain's quarters: "Go around." "I shall carry out your command," Burd Maste replied without asking why, simply accepting the instruction. Of course, he could imagine the reason: regardless of whether it was magic or not, it was far beyond the capabilities of a mid- or lower-tier being to have a large wind-and-steam hybrid passenger ship vanish silently—under the watchful eyes of hundreds of pirates. Such an event must have been made possible by the presence of a half-god or a powerful being who holds a half-god-level seal. To bring an ordinary passenger ship into direct conflict with an unknown half-god, however, would not be a rational course of action. Even if Count Nastor, the "King of the Five Seas," were to take such a step, he would only do so if there were clear, direct, and substantial interests or positional disputes at stake. From this perspective, the fact that the opposing half-god merely concealed the ship without launching any counterattack indicates that he wished to avoid a direct and intense confrontation with the "Black Emperor" and Count Nastor. Thus, his action was simply to demonstrate presence and exert a deterrent effect. Immediately, Bird Mastan ordered the sailors to move away from the ship's side and maneuvered the "Black Emperor" to change course. At that moment, a massive and heavy red-headed osprey suddenly broke away from the group and soared toward the "Black Emperor," circling high above the ghostly vessel. Amidst the pirates' bewilderment, the osprey gazed down upon the deck and spoke in a human voice, low and resonant: "I would like to meet Count White Maple." Bird Masten stood motionless for a moment, then turned his gaze toward the ship's cabin. The dignified voice of "King of the Five Seas," Nastev, echoed once more—without directly answering the osprey, he instructed his subordinates: "Let him in." As Bird Masten prepared to carry out the command, the red-headed osprey had already plunged downward through the dim, stormy sky, its body gradually transforming, twisting and flowing into the form of a human. When it landed on the deck, there was no longer any osprey—only a man wearing a tall hat, dressed in formal evening attire, with a feathered mask covering his face. Bird Masten's eyes slightly widened, as though trying to see him more clearly. Yet no matter how closely he observed, he could not detect any anomaly in the flamboyant man from the front—much as if the red-headed osprey had never appeared at all. A few seconds later, Bird Mastan's pupils dilated further, as the man in the feathered mask passed by, allowing him to see the man's side. This guest-of-honor-like figure was remarkably slender—only as wide as two fingers pressed together! For a brief moment, Bird Mastan thought he saw a walking mannequin, though the man seemed slightly thicker than a mannequin. Monster—struggling to swallow, he watched the terrifying half-god move toward the cabin. The pirates on deck stepped back several paces and pressed against the ship's side, as though what had just passed before them had been a nightmare. To them, this figure, so strangely proportioned, was unprecedented—more startling than any monster they had encountered before. On the third floor, outside the captain's room. Klein grasped the handle and turned it, opening the door. His presence was so unusual—part passive, part active. The passive aspect stemmed from the red-headed osprey being too slender; after setting aside portions of its body to create clothing and masks, even without extracting its organs, it could no longer support a typical human frame. The active aspect lay in his growing efforts to embody the role of a "mystic," beginning to develop a sense of direction: the magic itself wasn't the focus—the key was to demonstrate the concept of "mystique" through the methods of a mage. He still wore a crown of tapering towers, scaled down in proportion, draped in a long robe of black with silver trim, his facial contours firm, his forehead etched with fine lines, a short beard of dark hair framing his chin. Deep black eyes shimmered with a steady crimson glow, drawing the observer's gaze downward. "Never have I seen you," said Nast, his voice low. "Mr. The Arcane Magician." Cayne removed his hat and bowed. "Now I know you." Nast's voice, one that made spirits tremble, resonated throughout the captain's chamber. "Speak. What brings you here?" "Sir Count, I would like to know your impression of Emperor Roscel. All know that you and your father have seen Him—more than once." Cayne replied, unflinching. Nast glanced at the half-god before him, a figure like a paper man, and the crimson light brightened slightly. "Sit down, then." "As he finished speaking, Kline immediately felt a powerful pressure, compelling him to obey and sit down in the chair beside him. Yet, since he had come only as a secret figure—the 'thread of the spirit' briefly trembled—the slender silhouette, thin as a book, swiftly stabilized."