"This seems like my... 'Cognitive Revision'?"
This seems like my... 'Cognitive Revision'? Byron re-examined the mask's abilities; wasn't this essentially an equivalent to his somewhat aberrant 'Psychological Disguise Technique'?
He quickly expended some Spirituality to read the history embedded in this [Cursed Object] and obtained more detailed information:
"The shaman mask symbolizes the Aztec Death God Apuch. It was born at the same time as the [Bone Gnawing God] when Tarascan City, the city once beneath our feet, was destroyed.
Both carry the resentment of tens of thousands of the city-state's residents against the invaders; one is a [Curse Spirit], and the other is a [Cursed Object/Sacred Relic].
At this moment, attracted by the massive approaching force of thousands of outsiders, the mask has returned to the place of its birth.
As long as an accepted chanter recites the city-state's blood-and-tear-soaked final history,
they can use the mask's four abilities: Divine Emblem, Spirit Medium, Self-Hiding Barrier, and Soul-Protection Armor..."
After reading the Sailing Logbook's entry, Byron now completely understood the purpose of this third Sacred Relic, following the [Number Three Crystal Skull] and the [Golden Toilet].
[Divine Emblem]: Allows one to connect with Death God Apuch and borrow a portion of His Authority. This has some connection with my [Mad Hunt], which commands the legion of Undead. If their Authorities are consistent, they might even enhance each other. However, Death God Apuch has since been dragged down from the altar by his followers, transformed into the undying, horrific Bone Gnawing God. Even though that entity was extinguished decades ago, rashly trying to connect with Apuch now carries unpredictable risks and requires careful attempts.
[Spirit Medium]: This is quite suitable for the Spirit Mediums of the Graveyard Sequence, those who 'give rest to all things.' Raising Low Order individuals to the Middle Sequence would be no problem at all.
[Soul-Protection Armor]: This can defend against attacks from Spiritual Bodies. On the perilous Bantaan Archipelago, this ability is very practical.
And the last one, [Self-Hiding Barrier], is a revamped version of the Psychological Disguise Technique, which can significantly enhance this kind of transcendent ability that interferes on the cognitive level.
Its rank is equivalent to the Pied Piper's Shepherd Flute, a Second-Class Relic corresponding to the Middle Sequence.
It just so happens Bruh is currently feigning to be Bill all day to cover for me. To prevent the team's Mid-Sequence Transcendents from noticing anything amiss, he has been meticulously keeping his distance from them.
If he replaces the iron mask he currently wears with this one, there will be no discernible flaws when facing anyone below High Sequence.
The only Mandate of Heaven it demands is the continuous creation of death, especially the death of the People of Castilia.
Byron realized this first combat-ready treasure was incredibly useful for both him and Bruh, and his spirits lifted considerably.
He flashed a wide smile at Cutthroat, who was looking their way.
"Cutthroat, a pleasure doing business with you! If not for your formidable display holding back that creature, I couldn't have worn it down to its demise. Your shadow witchcraft is truly an eye-opener. I have a few bottles of good wine; why don't we find a chance to get together and have a drink sometime?"
Having benefited himself, he didn't mind bestowing some praise upon others after the fact. After all, compliments cost nothing.
Seeing his utterly sincere smile, Cutthroat almost wondered if he had misjudged him. Realizing the crew members were all watching, he could only manage a dry laugh in the end. "HEH, Mr. Sea Hunter is even more impressive. Your strength is surely comparable to Mr. Executioner Bill's, isn't it? Perhaps we can spar sometime."
While Cutthroat was secretly congratulating himself—though he'd been played, he had suffered no losses and had even conveniently eliminated a competitor, feeling quite pleased with the outcome—Bruh, previously notified by Byron, had already infiltrated the chaotic Hook Pirates in the guise of Bill.
After a somber eulogy for Captain Hook, he immediately extended an olive branch to them from the Pioneer Navigation Colonization Company. "I believe many of you have already heard about the terms offered by our Pioneer Navigation Colonization Company. This is our Pirate's Ten Commandments, especially this ninth one—merit shall always be rewarded! We also have our specially launched '721 Captain Fission Plan,' offering everyone the opportunity to become a Transcendent, to become a Captain... Those interested, just sign here. For those who aren't, I won't force you. Yes, I absolutely will not force you!"
The "sincere" smile playing on his lips already captured a third of Byron's characteristic charm.
When the Navy Department conducted assessments for the seven Pirate Generals, they modeled it on the 'Officer's Promotion Examination,' even stipulating the number of successful candidates for subsequent years. All seven Pirate Generals had followed this precedent, implementing the Hightins military system within their own Privateer Fleets. Fleets constructed under such a unified standard would naturally allow for seamless integration when the York Family eventually took control.
Unfortunately, while the York Family's plan was idyllic, they overlooked one crucial detail. When the seven Pirate Generals began to cannibalize each other, such seamless integration would also apply to their takeovers!
Byron never forgot that he must not allow the People of Castilia to grow too strong. Even more so, he could not let his enemy, York, become more powerful. One of the paramount objectives of this operation was to grow stronger by parasitizing Hightins' system, much like a bloodsucker!
Thanks to old Hook for the gift of the Privateer Fleet! I'll even perform a flashy hand dance at your grave.
As for the die-hard loyalists within the Pirate Group, and the ambitious opportunists dreaming of seizing power? The entry 'You're Not the Killer' would soon teach them the meaning of death by gunshot, drowning, or a fall from a great height... all with homicide conveniently ruled out.
「A week flew by in the blink of an eye.」
On the island at the heart of Lake Texcoco stands the Tenochtitlan Royal City.
Every year, during the first month, Shaman Wizards would commune with The Pantheon worshipped by the city-state, divining the most auspicious day to hold a grand sacrificial ceremony. This was known as the "Blood Feast" or the "Festival of Blood."
The already gruesome skinning ritual was thus pushed to an even greater climax.
"Empress, please raise your hand."
"Empress, please raise your foot."
'Falcon' Alvin assisted Beatrice, who served as both the Empire's Queen and the chief celebrant for the ritual. He helped her into a magnificent gown, then knelt, gently taking her foot to fit an exquisite gold-threaded shoe onto it. He then supported her as she slowly exited the resplendent palace.
Just as she reached the doorway, Beatrice suddenly paused and turned to whisper to him, "I should be fine here. The Blood Feast and the God Killing Banquet are about to begin. Falcon, go and rendezvous with His Excellency the General."
This time, however, Alvin did not depart with his usual promptness and efficiency. As Beatrice grew puzzled, she saw him unexpectedly raise his habitually bowed head, straighten his posture, and meet her gaze directly.
He spoke slowly, his tone allowing no dispute, "My beautiful Queen, the skinning ritual altar in the city center may appear safe, but it concentrates all the city-state's highest echelons and peak Transcendents. Though I am unaware of how your ultimate plan will unfold, it will undoubtedly lead to a confrontation with those natives. I firmly believe that the General will arrive in time to ensure your safety. But before that happens, should those natives attempt to harm you, they must first step over the corpse of I, Falcon Alvin! I am prepared to die, but I will never permit anyone to harm a single strand of your hair, nor will I allow you to perish at another's hand. If today I can safely deliver you into the embrace of General Cortes, even death would leave me with no regrets! Please, let me stay by your side."
Alvin's tone carried an uncharacteristic firmness, even a dominance, she had never witnessed in him before. Even if Beatrice's heart were forged from stone, it couldn't help but tremble upon hearing such words. Moreover, Falcon's demeanor, now devoid of its customary timidity and even obsequiousness, made Beatrice feel that the Alvin before her today was even more imposing than the General.
A hunting dog, once a mere hound, no longer a deferential cur—he had transformed into an eagle, soaring through the nine heavens!
She was typically indifferent to the fawning 'sincere admirer' type, but this kind of domineering display...
She felt a subtle dampness stir within her, irresistibly clenching her legs.
"Alright... very well. You may stay by my side."
Gazing at Falcon's face, this man, whom she had always regarded as a mere loyal servant and little else, suddenly seemed not so contemptible.
Perhaps... once this ceremony concludes, it wouldn't be entirely out of the question to offer him a little... reward. After all, when the General is absent, this beautiful body of mine is merely idle.
However, she remained oblivious to the fact that as Alvin spoke, his eyes were intently fixed upon the Golden Code she cradled in her hands.
Byron constantly recalled Violet's warnings. The more he looked at the hefty golden tome, the more he felt a sense of destiny connecting him to it.
Today, I will stay right beside this Golden Code, and no one is going to make me leave it!