It had been three full days since the Queen and her pirate crew entered the Neon Kingdom. The kingdom's territory wasn't particularly vast, but the long years of war had left most of the roads in ruin, which made progress painfully slow.
"Open the gates! They are guests of His Majesty, the King!"
The shout came from a man atop the city wall who seemed to be in charge. Soon, the thick gates of the capital city, Saan, creaked open.
The carriage carrying the Queen and Caron's group rolled into the city at a slow and deliberate pace.
And then...
"Wooooaaah!"
"Welcome! Welcome!"
Cheers erupted from the crowds lining the streets.
Caron peeked through the window and gave a faint, cynical smile. He remarked, "Looks like they prepared a lot, huh?"
It wasn't hard to tell this welcome was staged. The expressions on the citizens' faces were vacant and drained, with not a single trace of genuine joy. Even as they raised their voices in cheer, the air around them felt weighed down by despair.
The Pirate Queen, Kynda, nodded in agreement and said, "Looks like he wanted to put on a show. Nelson's always been a vain bastard. Now that he's got a crown on his head, he probably thinks he has to play king properly."
"Do you think he's a tyrant?" Caron asked casually.
"He couldn't be anything else," Kynda answered, sipping from a flask. "The man spent his whole life swinging a sword for coins. You think someone like that could govern?"
Despite effectively walking into the lion's den, her expression didn't waver. She radiated an unshakable confidence—the kind that came only from overwhelming power.
Leo, watching the two of them chat as if they were on a morning stroll, let out a quiet sigh of disbelief.
Am I still that far behind...? he thought. While he was visibly tense, Caron and Kynda seemed almost bored. Leo wondered if perhaps that was what it meant to be an 8-Star warrior.
"Leo," came a gentle voice. It was Seria.
"Yes, Saintess," Leo replied.
"Don't let them get to you. They're the strange ones, not you," Seria said, offering a serene smile.
Leo nodded with a wry grin and asked, "So... You're nervous too, then?"
"Not at all. The Light always watches over me. No matter what happens, I will survive and fulfill my mission. So, I have no reason to worry," Seria answered firmly.
"...Right. Of course," Leo said.
"Master, I say we just assume they're all insane! It's not that you're weak! With me, Rigor, let's climb to greater heights together! And then we'll teach those smug lunatics a proper lesson—" Rigor began, but was cut off.
Shut it, Rigor, Leo snapped.
As usual, the only thing that ever comforted Leo was his feeble sword, Rigor. Not that it helped much. Even if Rigor was once the sword of a Sword Saint, it didn't offer much more than chills.
Still, perhaps that was why Leo felt strangely attached to it—it mirrored his own inadequacies.
While Leo sulked with his sword, Caron kept looking out the window. He said, "I don't sense any dark mana. Do you feel anything, Seria?"
"No, I don't," Seria replied, shaking her head.
"Nelson definitely partnered with dark mages. So why can't we feel anything?" Caron asked as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
There weren't that many possibilities.
The idea that the dark mages hadn't done anything to the capital seemed ridiculous because if they were draining the border villages dry, they wouldn't just leave the capital untouched.
Which left the more likely possibility...
"They've concealed it completely," Caron muttered.
If even Guillotine and Seria, a Grand Saintess, couldn't detect anything, then the concealment magic had to be powerful—something designed to mislead even the most acute of senses.
Dark mages had always been good at building strongholds. They could well have created new ways to hide dark mana.
"That's far more dangerous," Kynda said softly. "We have no idea where the dagger pointed at our backs is hiding. It's always the blades you don't see that cut deepest."
"So, does that make you afraid?" Caron teased.
"Hmm. I'd be more worried about you. I'll outlive you, no question. You've got the look of someone who'll die before me," Kynda replied.
"But I'm younger," Caron said with a smirk.
"There's an order to arrive in this world, but none in leaving it. Want me to send you off today?" Kynda asked jokingly.
"As I've said many times—I'm especially good at beating up old folks," Caron replied.
Kynda chuckled. Even in a situation like this, she appreciated how Caron never lost his impish charm. Arrogant as he was, this particular quality pleased her.
"You really were born to be a pirate," Kynda remarked.
As their banter continued, the carriage finally rolled to a stop.
"We've arrived, Your Majesty!" the coachman called.
Kynda set her bottle down and rose, gripping her spear.
"Maybe because it's a small capital, it didn't take long to get to the palace," Kynda muttered.
"Well, that's how it is in a countryside town," Caron said.
"I'll get off first. You cute little pups follow carefully behind me," Kynda said with a smile.
When the door swung open, Kynda stepped out first, followed quickly by Caron and the rest of the group.
Before them stood the royal palace. It was neither grand nor ornate, but the vines growing across its old stones hinted at a long and storied past.
Caron narrowed his eyes as he looked around. He muttered, "I smell blood."
It wasn't his imagination. That sharp, metallic scent was unmistakably blood.
Kynda agreed, scanning their surroundings before saying, "What a terrible way to welcome guests."
"...Caron, isn't that a bloodstain over there?" Leo pointed to a patch of red on the stone floor.
There it was—the truth of how the Mercenary King had taken over the palace. If he'd wanted, Nelson could have used magic to erase all traces of blood. But instead, he left it out in the open like a trophy.
"A tyrant through and through," Caron muttered.
The display was clear. Fear was Nelson's chosen method of rule. In times of chaos, fear was often the most effective tool of control.
Kynda frowned deeply and said, "A man like that never had a shred of political sense."
She snapped her fingers, and the pirates waiting behind her approached. She ordered lazily, "Wait here."
"But Your Majesty, the Mercenary King is unpredictable. We should accompany you—" one of the pirates began, but was cut off.
"Did I ask for suggestions?" Kynda interrupted coldly.
There was no need for persuasion. The pirates obeyed immediately. That was how tightly Kynda held her crew in check.
After leaving her men behind, Kynda turned to Caron and asked, "Shall we go see that disgusting face?"
It was time to meet the Mercenary King.
Together, they strode toward the main palace.
***
The Neon Kingdom had boasted a proud history spanning over two hundred years. Among the southern kingdoms, it held the deepest roots and had once enjoyed a golden age, ruling over vast territories.
The main palace that stood as the heart of this storied kingdom was breathtaking. Towering pillars supported the grand halls, while murals and statues adorned the walls in elegant harmony.
"Her Majesty, Pirate Queen Kynda Reynolds, enters!" the chief chamberlain announced.
With that declaration, Kynda and her party, including Caron, stepped into the royal audience chamber.
A luxurious crimson carpet—imported from the Pajar Sultanate—stretched from the entryway to the throne. Dozens of nobles stood stiffly on either side of it, faces frozen in a display of false neutrality. Despite their best efforts, fear still flickered in their eyes.
At the far end of the hall, seated upon the throne, was a man with a massive frame. His eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness—this was the tyrant who ruled the palace.
"Welcome to the Neon Kingdom, Pirate Queen," the King's voice boomed, laced with power and mana that reverberated through the chamber.
Kynda stopped in her tracks and offered him a faint nod, then said, "It's been a while, Nelson."
"Your beauty hasn't changed a bit," Nelson said with a leering smile. "Still breathtaking, as always."
"I'm assuming you didn't invite me here just to comment on my face?" Kynda asked.
Before Nelson could respond, one of the nobles stepped forward and jabbed a finger at Kynda, then shouted, "How dare a mere pirate speak so rudely to His Majesty, the King of Neon? Your Majesty! Punish this insolent woman at once, lest we allow the law of the kingdom to crumble!"
The man had an oily face and a ridiculous curled mustache—he looked like a perfect caricature of a sycophant.
Kynda cast him a bored glance then asked, "Was that directed at me? Nelson, was this all part of a little play you arranged?"
"What could I possibly say to a noble so loyal to his king?" Nelson replied with mock solemnity. "Such earnest loyalty... It brings tears to my eyes."
"Well, if he wants to pick a fight with a pirate, he'll be handled the pirate way. Xenon? Deal with him," Kynda ordered.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Caron answered smoothly, answering to the alias they were using.
He stepped forward without hesitation and slapped the noble across the face.
Smack!
The sniveling man collapsed to the floor, frothing at the mouth, trembling uncontrollably.
Nelson burst into booming laughter. "Haha! A noble getting smacked around by a pirate? Useless to the last drop!"
The nobles flinched at his laughter, bowing their heads, their shoulders shaking.
Pirates after mercenaries... What's to become of us now?
Even as their ancient kingdom was reduced to a playground for cutthroats and opportunists, there was nothing they could do. The weight of despair pressed down on them like chains.
"You're the first guest of my kingdom," Nelson said with a sly grin, rising from the throne and approaching Kynda.
"Kynda Reynolds. You were always clever and always shrewd. When I received your offer to shake hands first, I thought you hadn't changed a bit," he continued.
A wave of mana surged from Nelson's body and filled the chamber. It had the force of someone who had reached the pinnacle of 8-Star. He hadn't earned the title of Mercenary King by mere chance. His power was formidable—and deadly.
Even Leo and Seria flinched under the pressure.
"And where are those famed heroes of yours?" Nelson asked.
"They're waiting outside the palace," Kynda replied coolly. "No need to drag them all in. It's just you, after all."
"That sharp tongue of yours hasn't dulled one bit, has it, Queen?" Nelson said.
"Thinking you're all grown up now and acting all smug in front of me—what an eyesore. Just get to the point already, you brat," Kynda said.
Her words dripped with scorn, but she'd earned the right to speak that way. Though not a sovereign in formal title, she had ruled the seas for decades. Even before the continent's strongest warrior, Halo, she held her head high. A man like Nelson could never make her lower it.
"Hehe... It's been a long time. I thought maybe we could share a drink or two," Nelson said, flashing a grin. "I've got some fine bottles saved."
"Drink by yourself. I don't share drinks with ugly bastards." Kynda turned him down in an instant. The insult was blunt and deliberate.
Nelson's expression twisted in irritation, but he quickly shifted his gaze past Kynda and locked eyes with Caron. He asked, "And who the hell are you?"
He looked Caron up and down: Bronzed skin, a dangerous aura, and a face that screamed 'pirate'. But that wasn't what caught Nelson's attention.
A pirate... at a level that I can't gauge his strength? Nelson thought.
Caron's mana—dense and unreadable—made it impossible for Nelson to assess his level. That could only mean one thing that this unknown pirate had reached at least 8-Star... or perhaps higher.
A man of this caliber among her heroes, and I've never heard a word of it? Nelson thought.
If this was a true 8-Star pirate, word would have spread long ago. Pirates, like mercenaries, were ruled by strength alone.
Which was why Nelson decided to test him.
Shing.
Nelson drew a crimson blade from its sheath, emanating bloodlust. He said, "Queen, your training methods are garbage. Is this bastard mute or something? Otherwise, how could he not answer when an adult is speaking to him?"
He looked ready to strike at any moment, but Caron, calm as ever, met Nelson's glare head-on. He replied lazily, "Do I have to answer?"
"Ugly mug, filthy mouth. You're lucky you're still breathing," Nelson growled.
For a moment, Caron considered what to say. Then he glanced at Kynda, who gave him the subtlest of nods.
Caron had to act like a pirate. That was all the permission he needed. He looked down at the blade hovering near his neck and chuckled.
Then, grinning from ear to ear, he said, "You know, Mercenary King, you're one ugly bastard yourself. Haha! I've seen orcs living in the hills who look better than you. Do orcs ever confess their love to you? I think you'd be a hit with them."
Caron, clad in the guise of a pirate, didn't hold back.
Nelson's expression twisted with rage. He said, "I'll start by ripping out that tongue of yours."
With that, the Mercenary King swung his blade at Caron, and his wrath exploded through the chamber like a storm.