My name is Trident. Captain of the Barbarossa Pirates.
One day, that absolute idiot Ollie stole a gem called 'Tears of the Saint' from the Royal Cathedral. It's no ordinary rock—it's a crystallized mass of magical energy the Empire spent a century collecting. Without it, every defensive mechanism in the Empire shuts down. That means monsters flood the city.
And that's not all. After stealing it, Ollie had the nerve to say, 'That's half my objective complete.'
I chase him. I need to know why h
Crazy Ollie: A Thief's Requiem - Even after the fall of the flower, the sea remains crimson.
The vibration of the cannon fire sent violent tremors through the ruined church's stone floor.
Trident, still gripping his broken cutlass, climbed over the mountain of rubble and fixed his aim on Olly's back. But the wound in his left shoulder was deeper than he had anticipated. Beneath the bandages, the sutures had torn open, and hot blood trickled down his arm, dripping steadily. His vision warped slightly.
(*I'll end it here.*)
Gritting his teeth, Trident summoned the last of his strength and lunged forward. The broken blade caught the faint phosphorescent glow of the Saint's Tear and gleamed dully.
But—
Another cannon blast.
A shell struck terrifyingly close, shattering the church's side wall. The impact sent waves rippling through the stone floor, and the rubble beneath Trident's feet collapsed in a great cascade. He lost his footing—just for an instant.
"You're too soft, Captain."
Olly had turned around. In his right hand, he held a slender dagger. His amber eyes, still carrying that sardonic light, narrowed coldly.
The next moment, a searing, white-hot agony tore through Trident's left flank.
The sensation of cold steel plunging deep, parting flesh and pushing through organs. Lukewarm blood flooded from Trident's mouth. His broken cutlass struck the stone floor with a dry clatter.
"Guh... hah..."
Trident dropped to his knees. The pale blue light of the Saint's Tear illuminated the blood-soaked stones. His own blood spread through the ring of light as if it were a living thing.
(*He stabbed me... Olly did.*)
Olly did not pull the dagger out. He ground it deeper into the wound, pressing down as he looked upon the collapsing Trident. There was no longer even an expression of hatred on his face. Only a profound exhaustion clung to it, a resignation that seemed to see through everything.
"I knew it. You're a man who can't kill a friend, right to the very end."
Olly's voice was terribly hoarse from his continuous chanting of destruction. He released his grip on the dagger, staggered, and turned back toward the Saint's Tear. From his back, there was the faintest suggestion of a laugh.
"...I never hated that about you."
Before he could finish, a cannon shell detonated at point-blank range.
A deafening roar.
The fragments of what had once been the church's stained glass scattered with piercing shrieks. Olly's body was slammed against the stone floor as if crushed by the blast wave. Countless shards of rubble struck his back, and a mist of blood danced in the air.
Even so, Olly crawled.
Dragging a trail of blood across the stones, toward the Saint's Tear.
"...Not yet. I won't let it end. The tsunami... it's almost here... With this... it all ends..."
Neither of them could move anymore. Pinned beneath the rubble, lying in pools of blood, they could not even reach out a hand to one another.
Trident, his vision clouding, stared at Olly's retreating form and sank into the memories of the past. What surfaced in his mind was a scene from twelve years ago, in a tavern in Ragnaroka.
Tilting a bottle of rum, the two young men had laughed together. Olly, with that same sardonic smile he wore now, had said:
*—Listen, Captain. We're pirates. We're not bound by any country or any king. Someday, let's sail freely across all the seas of the world.*
Trident looked at the back of his own right hand, at the old scar. The mark of the Red Flag oath. The same scar was on Olly's right hand.
(*Why did it come to this?*)
He had long known the answer. The Empire. The Empire had twisted everything.
But deep within Olly, who fought with eyes filled only with hatred, Trident had certainly seen it. The shadow of the friend who had once sailed the seas with him.
That was why he could not bring the cutlass down.
"...Damn... it..."
Murky tears spilled from Trident's eyes.
The ceiling of rubble began to collapse with a shriek.
The cannon fire from Gustav's fleet was now indiscriminate. The stone pillars supporting the church cracked, and the great beams of the ceiling descended with a groaning creak. In a matter of seconds, this place would become a tomb of debris.
But it was then.
"—Stop this, Olly!!"
A white shadow rushed to the fallen Trident's side.
It was Garnet Lumina.
Her silver hair was stiff with sea spray, and her torn nun's habit was stained with blood and mud. Her bare feet were slashed by the rubble, leaving bloody footprints on the stone floor, yet still she ran.
For a moment, she stopped at the sight of Trident lying face down, seeing the deep despair etched on his face. But she immediately raised her head and fixed her gaze on the Saint's Tear.
The crystal, still on the floor, pulsed. An eerie high-frequency wave trembled through the air of the entire island, and the uncontrollable pale blue phosphorescence flickered.
"There's no time...! If this continues, everything will truly end. Not just the Empire you hated, but even the things you tried to protect!"
Olly, his back pinned by the rubble, coughed up blood and laughed.
"...What are you saying, now of all times? Things I tried to protect? Those things... are already long..."
"Don't give up!!"
Garnet reached for the bandages on her own left arm.
Beneath them were countless thin scars, carved into her flesh each time she had poured her magical power into the Saint's Tear. It was the place on her body closest to magic.
With trembling hands, she drew her own short sword.
"...I am a saint. A sacrifice to protect the people. If that is so... then this is my way."
She slashed deeply into the old wound on her left arm with the short sword.
A sharp pain. Blood gushed from the wound as if spurting. But that was not all. Her scar, along with the blood, began to emit the phosphorescent light of pure magical power. It was the residual magic that had seeped into her very flesh and blood over the seventeen years of her life, poured continuously into the Saint's Tear.
"...Ugh, aaaaaahhh!!"
Screaming in pain, Garnet pressed her slashed left arm against the Saint's Tear.
A taboo that no previous saint had ever attempted. A last resort: pouring her own life force and magical power directly into the crystal to forcibly activate its defense mechanism.
The crystal emitted a blinding light.
The light was pale blue, yet as intense as the sun, bleaching the entire ruin of the church white. The crystal's defense mechanism had responded to the direct command of the administering saint's blood and magic.
The sea around the island began to roar and swirl into a vortex.
A colossal waterspout formed, centered on the island. It was a wall of water stretching into the sky, and the ships of Gustav's fleet were swallowed into the maelstrom like toys. The massive hull of the flagship Granvelt was torn apart by the water pressure, the screams of its crew drowned out by the roar.
On Garnet's left arm, the magic sigil burned and festered.
The skin split, and the stench of scorching flesh hung in the air. Her power as a saint, in that moment, was almost entirely lost.
"...Trident... sir..."
Her face pale from the excessive loss of blood and magic, Garnet smiled faintly even so, and collapsed on the spot.
Gustav, on the bridge of his flagship, watched the scene of the waterspout swallowing his fleet in utter stupefaction.
The reinforced glass of the bridge shattered, countless fragments slashing his face. The old burn scars on the right half of his face were stained red with fresh blood. The impact knocked his prosthetic hand loose, and it fell to the deck with an eerie metallic clatter.
"...Impossible. Inconceivable. My fleet..."
Gustav's icy blue eyes glared at the burning ruins of the church.
(*Trident... You again. My... order...*)
What surfaced in his mind was the face of his subordinate from twelve years ago. That detestable man who ignored discipline, ignored orders, and acted on emotion. An existence that, even after being driven from the military, continued to disrupt the world.
His adjutant, covered in blood, rushed onto the bridge.
"Admiral! Your orders! The fleet will be annihilated at this rate! We must retreat!!"
"...Silence."
Gustav did not even pick up his detached prosthetic hand. He simply continued to stare at the ruins.
"Permission to retreat granted. ...But Trident. Next time, I will personally eradicate that disease you call 'freedom.' I swear it."
In his heart, he swore a twisted, obsessive revenge against his former subordinate.
At that moment, a single blueprint slipped out of the classified document case that had fallen at his feet. On it were the words 'Project Second Saint's Tear' and the signatures of several scientists. It was a duplicate of the plan that the Velg Curia had been advancing in utmost secrecy. The loss of the crystal was not a complete defeat for the Empire.
But to Gustav now, such things no longer mattered.
The only thing that filled his heart was a desire for revenge against a single pirate.
The crystal shattered.
Garnet's last magic was exhausted, and the Saint's Tear reached its limit. The azure gem burst into countless fragments, one of which tore through the air like a bullet and pierced Olly's chest.
"...Guh... gah..."
A massive amount of blood flooded from Olly's mouth. Blood streamed from his pierced chest. Lying amidst the rubble, he stretched a faintly trembling hand toward Trident.
"...Captain."
His voice was astonishingly faint, yet terribly clear.
A single tear, the likes of which Trident had never seen before, spilled from his eye.
"...Do you remember? Twelve years ago, in the Great Fire of Glanz... that kid you saved, even breaking orders. Lillie... was her name."
At that name, Trident gasped. Forgetting the pain in his flank, he crawled closer to Olly.
"...You... how do you know Lillie's name..."
"...That girl... was my one and only... little sister."
Olly, his face smeared with blood, yet crying, laughed like a child.
"She was the only one... I wanted to keep away from these bloodstained hands. Because you... a pirate, protected her... I could still... remain human."
It was the first time Trident had heard Olly's true feelings.
There was no mask of the avenger, no sardonic clown. There was only a brother who wished for his beloved sister's safety more than anyone, and who desperately wanted to thank the one who had saved her.
"...Thank you, Trident. Captain... I'm sorry. For everything."
The collapse began.
The church ceiling screamed its final scream, and everything came crashing down. A massive mountain of rubble, along with Olly's body, broke through the floor, surging toward the basement, and then toward the sea.
"Olly!! Reach out your hand!!"
Trident shouted. Bleeding from his flank, he desperately stretched out his hand.
Their fingertips came within mere centimeters of each other.
"...This is fine."
Olly, at the very end, wore a light smile, just like in the old days. And then, his body, along with the collapsing rubble, was sucked into the darkness of the deep sea.
"Olllllyyyyy!!"
Trident's scream echoed hollowly through the crumbling ruins.
Murky seawater and dust from the rubble obscured his vision. His hand had grasped nothing but empty air.
How long had he been like that?
When he came to, the cannon fire had ceased, and the waterspout had vanished. The world was wrapped in a silence like ringing in the ears.
Klaus, the surviving navigator, and Heinz, the chief gunner, pushed through the rubble and rushed over. Seeing Trident collapsed face down and Garnet unconscious beside him, they gasped.
"Captain!! Are you alright?! ...Whoa, that's a nasty wound!"
"Making the girl carry the burden...! Come on, let's go. This island is going to sink completely."
Heinz lifted Garnet onto his back, and Klaus supported Trident's shoulder. Trident, one last time, stared into the darkness of the sea where Olly had vanished, and then nodded weakly.
The half-destroyed Red Bull sailed through the sea where the afterma
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