Beneath a rare clear sky, the vast blue ocean still held a thick fog in one spot—a massive Ghost Ship, the Resurrection Goddess.

On its bow deck, a sparring match was underway.

One side was Pipe Master, the skeletal pirate captain in a crimson coat. The other was the adorable Princess Sasha, also clad in red. This wasn’t a formal duel—just swordplay practice with wooden blades.

"Hmm. Come at me, Sasha."

"Ahh..."

Sasha drew her wooden sword and lunged. Her footwork was stiff, her stance unrefined. The path of her strike was obvious. Yet Pipe felt a flicker of pride at her eyes—sharp with courage and resolve.

*Clack.* Pipe matched her pace, blocking her swing with his own wooden blade.

"Good... again."

"Ahhh..."

Unable to speak, she conveyed everything through expression and gaze. Compared to three months ago, she’d changed greatly. No longer walking timidly, she now strode with head high. Yet scars from her past ran deep. Only with Pipe did a faint smile touch her lips; to others, her face remained an icy, emotionless mask.

It couldn’t be helped. Pipe Captain’s skull face had become her mirror through constant closeness. And wary of others, she’d modeled herself after her savior—the skeletal pirate—as a child mimics parents. To Sasha, Pipe was family.

*What a headache. Who’d ever marry this girl?* But it was progress. After all she’d endured, this was already remarkable.

While the pair practiced on the bow, Purames and Greenland leaned against the stern railing, watching with envy.

"Just like father and daughter... I never knew the Captain had such tenderness. Strength, wisdom, patience, warmth... the perfect husband should be like this."

"Tch... How can I, a doll, bear his children? Marriage might work. Even *that* part might work. But babies? How?"

Their eyes met accidentally. Sparks crackled in the air.

"As a woman, I pity some people... that ache of longing is truly tragic."

"Hmph. True. The powerless soon learn it’s not their fault. But those with power who can only watch? *They’re* the tragic ones."

"Grr... You bitch. Who says I won’t get my chance?"

"Tch... And who are *you* mocking, you eel with nothing but a fish tail for lower half?"

Sasha, exhausted, plopped onto the deck gasping. Pipe knelt, pulling a Silk handkerchief from his pocket to gently wipe her brow.

"Great progress. Sword skills and footwork can be trained. Don’t rush. What I praise is your courage and resolve—that’s the hardest part. You’ve done well."

"Ahh... ah..."

A slight tremor touched Sasha’s lips. Her eyes crinkled. Only Pipe and one other understood this smile.

"Go find Faglas. Eat something. Then we’ll continue."

Sasha nodded, gripping Pipe’s bony hand to stand. She smoothed her rumpled red coat and ran off—glancing back at him often.

"Purames... Greenland... what are you doing?"

"Captain! I have a report... about Scarface..."

"And I have updates on the Three Kingdoms War..."

"*I’ll* speak first!"

"Grr..."

"Tch..."

Pipe patted their shoulders, calming them. He swept his coat aside and settled into his chair.

"War news first."

"Yes! My puppets report both armies remain locked in stalemate. Kingdom knights, short on supplies, raid Imperial villages. The Imperial commander uses scorched-earth tactics—evacuating villagers to fortified cities. The deadlock continues..."

"Any news on the Gifted?"

Pipe cared little for ordinary soldiers. His concern was the so-called Heroes—the Gifted humans. How strong were those who could kill gods?

"Both sides hold back their Gifted. Only minor clashes so far. Their power? Roughly twenty percent of mine, Purames’, or Faglas’ strength."

"Twenty percent... like that Karl fellow? Or the Shadowblade assassin?"

"Yes."

Pipe stroked his chin. If he rated himself Level 100—and Purames, Greenland, Faglas the same—then these Gifted were barely Level 20. But how could Level 20 kill a god?

*Wait.* A chilling thought struck him. Level 100 gods? That was his novelist’s assumption. The Seven True Gods here might only be Level 50... or 30. He’d foolishly treated them as Level 100.

*Damn it.* To his crew, his caution must look utterly stupid.

*Stay calm.* There might be ways to kill Level 100 gods... but eighty percent chance he’d overestimated them.

"Enough. Purames—Scarface’s report?"

Pipe’s tone stayed neutral. His skull face hid the frantic self-scolding within.

"Yes. To prepare for nation-building, I sent Scarface to establish a foothold in the Kingdom."

"Nation-building?"

"Yes. Didn’t you plan to make Princess Sasha a puppet monarch?"

"Make Sasha a ruler?"

*Brilliant.* He’d promised Sally a good life for Sasha. A pirate’s daughter wasn’t noble. But Empress Sasha? Far better. Yet... *puppet ruler*?

"Exactly. (Damn, stealing my subordinate’s idea is shameful.) Your effort is appreciated. I’d meant to discuss this—(thank gods skulls don’t blush)—but you’ve... already acted. (Lies are hard!) Detail your plan. (I’m despicable.)"

"Of course. Though crude, I’ll share my scheme since you’re interested. First, Scarface raids Kingdom coasts under Sasha’s banner, building her rebel reputation. Once strong enough, we seize territory to found a nation. Then, using this state as cover, we gradually devour the Kingdom. Finally, this puppet nation unifies the continent—with us non-humans ruling from shadows, Sasha as figurehead..."

*Perfect.* Hidden yet effective. Purames truly earned his "Strategist" title.

"Well done. Your work is valued."

"All thanks to you, Captain. Without bringing Sasha back, I’d never grasp your profound vision..."

*Profound vision?*

"You planned everything from the start. You hid it only to test us—to stop us relying on you blindly. Am I right? Such deep care for your crew... I’m ashamed I once leaned on your wisdom for everything."

*You think that? How convenient for me...*

"Hmm. You understand. But flaws remain. Scarface’s loyalty is bought with blood and coin. Remember the Kingdom’s elite: Temple Warriors, priests, knight-commanders. Send core members to support him."

"Understood. Who shall I send?"

"Golden Key. One hundred elite crew. Equip them from the Lonely Mountain armory. Prioritize gear resisting Light and Fire—priests’ holy power cripples us. Weapons must counter Light magic too."

"Yes, Captain."