The pirates of the Flag of Fire had long established their dominance over the other two pirate crews, not only through their overwhelming power but also through the vast wealth they had accumulated over the years. Their influence stretched far beyond the seas they sailed, reaching even the distant shores of the three kingdoms. At the center of this dominance stood their captain, a man feared and respected in equal measure, widely regarded as the most powerful among all pirates. It was precisely this reputation that kept the three kingdoms from interfering with the affairs of the pirate island.
It was this very crew that Henry had chosen to join.
His reason was not loyalty, nor ambition for power, but something far more personal—the search for a rare and mysterious metal known as melarium. Stories about it were scarce, often dismissed as myths, but the few whispers that existed pointed toward the pirates of the Flag of Fire. And so, Henry found himself standing among strangers, waiting for a chance to step into the world of seas and ships.
The line before him was long, stretching all the way to the dockyard. Men of all kinds stood there—some desperate, some hopeful, and others simply lost. The dock itself was alive with movement. Ships of every kind filled the harbor: small fishing boats rocked gently near the edges, merchant vessels stood heavy with goods, and pirate ships dominated the scene with their imposing presence. Among them, the ships bearing the Flag of Fire were the most numerous, their banners fluttering proudly in the sea breeze.
The crew was organized under five commanders, each controlling a fleet of more than ten ships. Henry, by chance or perhaps by fate, was assigned to the fourth commander. Unlike the others, this commander did not boast the largest fleet. In fact, his fleet was noticeably smaller. Yet, what he lacked in numbers, he made up for in victories. It was said that he had defeated more enemy fleets than any of the others.
The pirates under his command spoke of him with a strange mix of admiration and fear. He was not known for brute strength like some of the others. Instead, his reputation was built upon his mind—his strategies, his precision, and the way he could turn even the most hopeless battle into a decisive victory. More importantly, he held the position of vice-captain of the Fire Pirates. Many believed that if the current captain's son did not exist, the fourth commander would have already been named the next leader.
At the dock floated the ship that would soon carry Henry towards his interest. It was a massive vessel, its surface marked with scars from countless battles. The hull, reinforced with metal, gave it an imposing presence, while the engine deep within it released steady puffs of steam into the air. Unlike ordinary ships, this one was powered by mana cores extracted from beasts, making it both powerful and unpredictable.
Henry stepped onto the deck, feeling the faint vibration of the machine beneath his feet. The air smelled of salt, oil, and iron. Almost immediately, he was approached by a man who seemed to command respect from the others—the right-hand of the fourth commander.
The instructions were brief and direct.
"Do what you are told. Do nothing when you are not."
There was no room for questions.
Soon after, food and basic gear were distributed among the new recruits. Many of the recruits such as him looked weak and exhausted, their faces pale and their bodies frail. It was clear that some had not eaten properly in days. When the food was handed out, they devoured it without hesitation, as though afraid it might be taken away.
Once the preparations were complete and cargo had been loaded, the ship slowly pulled away from the dock. The crew moved with practiced efficiency, shouting orders and adjusting sails as they set course for the Land of Fire—one of the three great islands in the Sea of Arath.
As the distance between the ship and the shore grew, the noise gradually faded. The sea stretched endlessly in all directions, calm and undisturbed. The pirates, who had been shouting moments ago, began to settle into a quieter rhythm.
The stillness was almost unnatural.
One of the new recruits, unable to contain his curiosity, spoke up.
"Why is the sea so calm?"
A nearby pirate let out a quiet chuckle before answering.
"Calm seas are not always a good sign," he said. "There's a story about that."
The others leaned in slightly, listening.
"Centuries ago, there lived a voyager unlike any the world had ever seen. He was young, but his talent was unmatched. He could navigate through the most violent storms, sail across the most dangerous waters, and survive climates that would kill ordinary men. It was said that he had traveled across every sea and set foot on every island that existed."
The pirate paused, glancing at the horizon.
"But one day… he disappeared."
"Some pages of his diary were found years later," he continued. "Most of it was lost, but what remained spoke of things no one could fully understand. He wrote about enormous creatures that ruled the seas—monsters so vast that they could swallow ships whole. According to him, these creatures controlled the very waters themselves, dragging anything that entered their domain into the depths."
A silence fell over the group.
"Some people say he went mad," the pirate added. "That those were just the ramblings of a man who had seen too much. But not everyone believes that."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"A few days ago, a fisherman claimed he saw something out there… something as large as a ship."
The recruit swallowed nervously.
The pirate turned his gaze back to the sea, his expression unreadable.
"Maybe that's why the sea is so quiet," he said softly. "Because something beneath it is waiting."
He let the words linger before finishing—
"Like the calm before the storm."