BBYW Vol. 3 Chapter 1 (WN)
Chapter 1 – Monsters Dwell in the Sea
The southern seas enjoyed a summer-like heat nearly all year long.
The intense sunlight pouring from the pure blue skies sparkled on the transparent blue waves.
On such a summer day, A lone vessel was riding the sea currents.
Pictured on its flag were two black snakes, their bodies entwined together as the heads stretched towards the sky.
The ship belonged to the “Snakebone Pirates”, a newly formed crew that recently started to raid the southern seas.
Their main sources of income were kidnapping and slave trade. They robbed people of their dignity and traded it for money – one of the worst kind of ruffians plaguing those seas.
“Captain, there’s a small boat coming from the east.”
One of the pirates called for the captain’s attention. At the other end of his gaze, the small boat in question was being rocked by the waves.
“What? A drifter in these parts? There aren’t any islands nearby.”
The nasty-looking man addressed as captain frowned and took out a pair of binoculars from his breast pocket.
Upon closer inspection, the small boat was flying a flag smeared in black.
“That’s…hah, just some castaway criminal.”
It was customary in those seas to set up flags painted in black on the boats used for castaways. The black flag was a signal for unaware sailors not to rescue the drifter.
“Haha, the boat’s off the prison island’s current…I guess the wind knocked it off the tidal current?”
“What’re we gonna do, cap’n? Let it go?”
“Naw, pick’em up! I want to know what they did to be thrown out to sea like that!”
The pirate cackled as he gave the order to his subordinate.
The pirate ship then rowed closer to the boat and picked up its single passenger, a man.
The castaway was a young man, around 20 years old. His body, tightly tied with ropes, showed various bruises. He likely underwent a brutal interrogation: there were also marks caused by lashes.
“Whoa! Now this is a big find!”
The captain cheered at the sight of the castaway.
Young men fetched a good price on the slave market: the value would go down if he was revealed to be a criminal, but no one would find out if they sold him a few islands away from the current area.
“If he’s useful enough, we might as well make him work on the ship! So? What made you take an ocean cruise all by yourself, boy?”
The captain sneered as he approached the castaway.
“Damn, they sure did a number on you, brat. Who did you piss off?”
The castaway looked up at the captain, without a word. His face was pitifully swollen and bruised.
“Haha, we’ve got a looker on our hands! You’re gonna be worth something, that’s for sure!”
Despite the bruises, the young man appeared to be quite handsome. As soon as they healed, it wouldn’t be difficult to sell him as a male prostitute.
“Hey, someone cut his ropes! We’re going to sell him as a slave. Cool off his wounds, so he doesn’t drop in value!”
“Right away, cap’n!”
One of the pirates cut the castaway’s restraints. The latter, still silent, did not show any sign of resistance.
“Stand up, boy!”
“What? Come again?”
For the first time, the young man spoke. He had probably spent days without eating or drinking anything: his voice was raspy and dry.
“I said…no hard feelings.”
The young man’s right arm, marked by the rope, stretched forward. With a speed completely unexpected by the pirates, the young man snatched the knife that had just freed him.
“What the hell are you doing!?”
In the blink of an eye, the young man had cut a pirate’s throat with the snatched knife. Immediately blood started pouring from the slashed throat, like a torrent breaking through a dam.
“…I don’t have anything against you people.”
The young man lurched back on his feet, more like a ghost than a human would.
His body, drenched in the pirate’s blood, was reminiscent of the demons in oriental tales.
“No resentment, ill will, or anything. What I’m going to do to you now, is just stress relief. You’re going to die in the process, but…no hard feelings, all right?”
The captain clenched his teeth.
The young man was clearly an enemy: yet strangely enough, he couldn’t muster any hostility towards him.
The hatred and rage for the murder of his subordinate was crushed by an intense fear, robbing him of any will to oppose the castaway.
“Kill him!! Tear him to pieces!!”
Nevertheless, the captain shouted, desperately trying to rile himself up as well.
The subordinates, equally intimidated by the castaway’s presence, readied their weapons.
“That’s the way. If you’re armed, you’ll make it easier for me to kill you.”
The castaway swayed, knife in hand.
The pirates jumped the young man, all at the same time. The difference in numbers was stark: on top of it, his only weapon was a small knife. The outcome of the battle seemed to be decided from the beginning.
The castaway, however, showed no fear. He bared a set of deadly fangs and glared at his enemies.
“Safe trip to hell!”
The castaway swung his knife, slashing the pirates’ necks and wrists, one after the other.
The name of the young man covered in wounds and bruises was Dyngir Maxwell.
The hero of the Lamperouge kingdom’s eastern province, carried by fate to the southern seas.