Chapter 154

Chapter 154: The Beautiful Captive

Facing the onslaught of arrows and bullets, Midi performed the simplest action.

He drew his sword.

Demon Swordman skill, Demon Slash.

No ripple of demon god power, no surge of magic, no earth-shaking momentum—just a plain sword strike.

The result seemed ordinary and unassuming, utterly low-profile.

Yet the next instant, a frenzied hurricane erupted from the sword’s edge. This tangible whirlwind shredded every projectile midair before roaring upward like a tornado, plucking the enemies from the gunwale and hurling them overboard!

By the time the ironclad’s guards regained their footing, Midi had already crossed the iron chains, one foot planted on the ship’s edge.

He stood tall, gazing down with sharp eyes. His black hair fluttered in the sea breeze as the pitch-black Black Sky sword in his hand radiated menace, akin to the Killing God’s descent. The seasoned sailors froze, none daring to approach.

Midi used the pause to scan the deck. His target soon came into view—a graceful young man near the helm at the rear.

The man appeared in his mid-twenties, slightly older than Midi. His features were delicately androgynous, so beautiful he’d rival any woman in a dress, surpassing even Odel the half-Elf. Compared to this vision, Midi’s own handsomeness paled.

Only the young man’s posture and bone structure confirmed his masculinity. Had it been otherwise, Midi might’ve suspected a disguise.

The beautiful young man showed brief astonishment at Midi’s solo boarding but swiftly regained composure. Pointing at Midi, he ordered coldly, “Capture him!”

His voice, crisp and ambiguously charming, matched his appearance.

Hearing the command, Midi halted his advance, smiling faintly as he stood firm.

He hadn’t come for desperate gambits. With power to crush the entire ironclad, hostage-taking was unnecessary. He’d defeat them all openly until they yielded. Should tricks emerge, he’d simply escalate the lesson.

Tactics meant nothing without strength—a truth driving Midi’s relentless growth as a reincarnator.

His calm dominance kept the guards tense. At their leader’s order, the level 40 psionicist beside him roared, condensing energy into a massive orb.

Psionicist skill, Energy Wave.

“Kill!”

As the first Energy Wave shot forth, the psionicist charged a second, waiting to strike when Midi dodged. Crew members rushed to flank, aiming to distract.

To Midi, these were mere gnats.

He stepped forward, leveling his sword. The Black Sky’s edge pierced the energy orb with pinpoint precision.

A shrill hiss erupted as the orb deflated like a punctured balloon, veering wildly before exploding among scrambling crew. Before they could react, Midi swept his sword, summoning a gale that flung them overboard.

One move emptied the deck.

The next moment, Midi didn’t wait for the psionicist to act. He leaped forward, becoming a gray blur that charged straight at his opponent.

“What?!” The psionicist panicked, unable to fathom how someone could move so fast. He stumbled backward, trying to raise a last defense, but it was too late.

Midi reversed his longsword and penetrated the man’s guard with impossible speed. He thrust the hilt squarely into the psionicist’s stomach, the impact driving deep into his flesh.

With a wet gasp, the man spat foam and flew backward like a broken kite. He crashed into the mast dozens of meters away, knocked unconscious.

Nothing remained to hinder Midi now.

“Surrender,” he said flatly, stopping before the beautiful young man.

The youth’s hand twitched toward his waist—reaching for a hidden weapon. But seeing Midi’s relaxed posture, he sighed and dropped his arm. “The Conqueror is yours. I’m Wells Flying Sail, sixth heir of the Flying Sail Family. Your name?”

“Faye.” Midi smiled.

Smart people required few words. Wells had already guessed Midi’s intentions. Why else defeat everyone without killing?

“What now?” Wells brushed hair from his face.

“Bring the two lady captains here.”

Twenty minutes later.

The Conqueror’s bright hall held three groups.

At one side sat a sullen Wells with his aides. The white-haired elder was pinned by Hawk Brigade officers, while the psionicist slumped pale and drugged, barely conscious.

Opposite them were the captains of Star of the South and Albatross.

Sonia maintained her composure but couldn’t hide her shock. Who was this Faye? Seizing an ironclad single-handedly, subduing the Flying Sail heir—what power did he wield?

Karina leaned close, whispering, “Be careful. That black-haired schemer’s no savior.”

Though rescued, the Albatross’s captain seethed. Her ship had suffered most—shattered stern, broken mast, dead crew. Learning Midi had watched until the last moment made her furious. Why let people die if he could stop it? Her resentment burned hotter than toward Wells.

She vowed to thwart whatever plan this latecomer had.

Midi, unaware of her hatred, focused on Wells. He’d summoned the women merely to settle the heir’s lingering schemes.

“Let’s resolve your disputes,” he announced.

His calm tone carried iron authority. A veteran of the Sais family’s noble war and Belmar’s civil war, Midi had forged his presence through countless victories. As Belmar’s de facto ruler, his aura silenced dissent.

Karina opened her mouth but choked under the pressure.

Wells’s lazy charm faded to grim acceptance. After a long pause, he admitted, “I hunted these ships to force their captains into servitude. That’s all.”