The air within a ten-meter radius suddenly whipped into chaos, a howling wind erupting on the spot. Before them, a pale, nearly transparent beam of light—about five meters thick—materialized in midair, as if night's glow had solidified. The air itself had taken physical form.
Broo, collapsed weakly on the ground, stared with bulging eyes. His twisted face contorted in abject terror.
But it was already too late.
The blast sounded like a thunderclap. That terrifying white beam tore through everything ahead like a force of nature. The seven or eight pirates standing at the bow were engulfed in light, their bodies crushed as if struck by sledgehammers. Bones shattered, blood burst from their mouths—and they died instantly. The bow of the Broo was blown clean through, leaving a gaping hole so massive it nearly severed the ship from stem to stern.
"W-What kind of power is this?! Is this really something a human can do?" A young crewman fell to the deck, paralyzed with fear.
"No way... This is insane!" Even Ayo—the usually quiet second mate—was slack-jawed in disbelief.
"Our ship..." A burly, bearded pirate looked mournfully at the heavily damaged Broo.
"No... The Captain... How did it come to this?!" another pirate cried out. What was supposed to be just a routine raid had spiraled into a massacre—not even their worst encounters with the Marines had ended . And now, their captain was dead.
"We're one of the biggest pirate crews in the East Blue! How the hell did some teenage brat do this to us?!" A sleazy-looking pirate with a flamboyant hairdo was practically hysterical. He had been standing just feet from the gaping hole in the bow—one step closer and he'd be dead too.
Aeridar suddenly turned his head, completely ignoring the sinking Broo beneath his feet. He grinned maniacally at the other pirates, like a madman. Without a moment's hesitation, he drove his fist toward the largest cluster of enemies.
Another shockwave exploded from his fist.
Dozens of meters away, pirates were hit full-force by the invisible blast. Blood gushed from their mouths, their bodies crumpling as if struck by a giant hammer. Even the deck beneath them splintered into a web of cracks.
Aeridar vanished from sight in an instant.
A moment later, a shadow emerged in the center of the pirate horde. A storm of violence followed—limbs shattered, bones snapped, dozens of pirates collapsed to the floor in a blood-soaked heap.
Kicking through the air in rapid succession, Aeridar launched himself skyward and soared toward another pirate ship.
"Rankyaku—Blade Frenzy!"
His legs sliced the air so fast they became afterimages. A dozen or more blue-white crescent blades rained down like falling moons.
Shick—shick—shick—shick—shick—
On the deck of the second ship, over ten pirates screamed as they were struck. Deep gashes carved down to the bone. Some lost arms. Others, legs.
Then Aeridar landed on the deck with a thud—no pause, no mercy. He threw another punch.
Another shockwave blasted forward, tearing a path through the crowd over ten meters long. Nearly twenty pirates were left either dead or writhing in agony.
"Even the gentlest of souls... hide a savage joy when blood is spilled, don't they?"
Captain Jaron narrowed his eyes, watching Aeridar turn the pirate ship into a slaughterhouse. The boy's face was twisted—half maniacal, half serene. That laugh, those eyes—it was like something inside him had snapped.
"At that age... to have such monstrous power," Jaron muttered, frowning so deeply it etched a 川 on his brow. "But if he came from Kukos Island, I guess it's not too surprising. Maybe that dual nature—this madness—is a result of the brutal survival pressure on that island."
By now, the rest of the Gigiriel's crew had snapped out of their shock and were pushing back the boarding pirates. With their captain dead, enemy morale collapsed. Most of them scrambled to flee—some even leapt into the sea.
"Captain—what's wrong with Aeridar?!" Dimitri ran to Jaron's side, staring nervously at the blood-covered boy wreaking havoc across the enemy ship.
"Probably... it's from surviving on Kukos Island since he was a child. That place twists people. The pressure warps you. He must have bottled it up... but once he sees blood, it all comes flooding out. It's probably... Bloodlust Syndrome," Jaron answered, eyes sharp. He seemed to have pieced it together.
"But it's alright. He's only killing pirates. He's still in control—he knows who the enemy is."
"Bloodlust Syndrome..." Dimitri echoed, half-understanding, gaze never leaving Aeridar. He clutched the beast-tooth dagger at his side so tightly his knuckles went white, fearful he'd lose control.
As time passed, the battle neared its end. Most pirates from the two enemy ships had been annihilated. Only one ship—its main mast sheared off by Aeridar—managed to limp away. Its hull had taken over ten cannon hits and a direct shockwave blast. It wouldn't get far. Likely, it would sink before nightfall.
Dusk fell, bringing the battle to a close.
The sea was strewn with corpses. Blood painted the waters red. Splinters of wreckage floated everywhere. One ship had already sunk, leaving a deep whirlpool. Another barely clung to the surface, falling apart at the seams.
On the Gigiriel, the surviving crew members were already at work—gathering loot, tending to the wounded, and clearing bodies. The corpses of enemy pirates were dumped into the sea. Fallen comrades were laid carefully on the deck, white sheets drawn over them with reverence.
At the bow of the Gigiriel...
"Hey, hey, take it easy—my ship's not made of iron, you know." Jaron glanced sideways at Aeridar, who was now sitting on the deck.
Huff... Huff... Huff...
Aeridar was covered in blood, panting heavily. Half of his face was twisted in a crazed grin; the other half was eerily calm. His eyes flickered—bloodthirsty one moment, cold the next.
"I'm trying," Aeridar muttered, clearly uninterested in small talk. He shut his eyes, forcing himself to breathe evenly, trying to regain control.
"Hey man, chill out," Dimitri chimed in, forcing a grin. "C'mon, the world's not that bad..."
"Right. A world full of pirates and blood—real 'paradise'," Aeridar deadpanned, cutting him off.
"Uhh..." Dimitri faltered, unable to argue. "Well... I guess paradise's not exactly heaven."
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