Seeing Aiven, obviously in a dazed state and wearing a Navy officer's uniform, the wizard Gagong quietly placed a bone blowgun to his mouth.
"Whoosh!"
"Clang——!"
The well-honed combat intuition allowed Aiven to swing his sword at the last moment when the blowgun dart was about to hit, slicing the poisoned dart away like lightning.
Even though he was unharmed, turning around to see the oddly dressed aboriginal old man, Aiven couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat.
Although he was somewhat worried about Uncle Gel facing such a bizarre and disgusting "monster" alone, Aiven thought it best to first deal with this sneaky old guy.
"Heh heh heh, foolish Navy, Gagong has seen your death omen!"
To Aiven's surprise, after the attack failed, the strange old man not only didn't flee but instead crawled out of the cabin, muttering to himself while continuously attacking Aiven with the blowgun.
Whoosh——
Whoosh——
The deep brown skin suggests he is an aboriginal from the Southern Continent or the New Continent, with bone ornaments all over and tattoos covering over eighty percent of his body, resembling the image of an aboriginal witch doctor from the adventure stories Aiven heard as a child.
Aiven quietly heightened his caution.
Because in legends, such bizarre beings rarely seen in the civilized world might not have much combat ability, but they possess all sorts of strange and terrifying witchcraft, which are hard to guard against.
Even though Aiven boasted about having mortal peak level combat skills, he dared not underestimate such a being.
"Sword Style: Floating Boat!"
With incredibly agile movement, Aiven easily dodged all the incoming blowgun darts.
Sure enough.
Seeing that the blowgun darts he shot continuously couldn't harm Aiven, the old witch doctor cackled and took out a dark green "sphere" from a python skin bag, hurling it fiercely at Aiven.
"Perish! Your death omen should be here!"
Aiven's keen sight instantaneously captured what it was. His pupils suddenly shrank. It was a human head that had been shrunken by some unknown means, but with clearly discernible features, just shrunken by several times.
Bang——
A large, sticky, mist-like green gas escaped from the head, rapidly spreading on the deck.
Aiven dared not try this eerie thing on himself; he leapt up the mast, standing on the ship's sail boom, dodging the gas, which was evidently heavier than air.
"Ah—— Help!"
"Ugh... ugh... I can't breathe..."
While Aiven could avoid it, it didn't mean everyone on the deck could. Many pirates and the sailors fighting them were caught in it, letting out a shrill scream before falling silent.
"You should die!"
Aiven was furious upon seeing this.
Although realizing this was some sort of witchcraft effect, Aiven couldn't ignore such behavior that turned people into spellcasting materials, nor could he stand by while his comrades were mercilessly slaughtered.
Whoosh——
The sea breeze quickly dispersed the poisonous gas; the pirates and sailors who escaped by a hair's breadth hid in the corners, too frightened to come out. Standing on high ground, Aiven was the first to spot the witch doctor.
The old witch doctor was still hiding behind some barrels, sneakily observing the commotion on the ship, mumbling: "My divination shouldn't be wrong. Death, a powerful and young body, a raven, don't these symbols indicate I would harvest the body of a young warrior, then successfully practice a powerful corpse reanimation technique?"
Hovering quietly above him via the ship's rigging, Aiven felt a wave of absurdity. Is this guy dreaming? A clearly non-combatant magic profession coming out to confront a warrior like me just because his divination saw my downfall?
If all wizards were such nonsensical lunatics, it's no wonder all the churches issued witch hunt orders.
Initially thinking the "Witch Hunting Movement" was, like in the previous world, a means for the ruling class to persecute the civilians and suppress dissenters, Aiven now thought there might be a need to reevaluate.
"At least people like this old witch doctor who sees human life as insignificant shouldn't exist!"
Even though thoughts raced through his mind, they didn't hinder Aiven's fierce actions.
Holding the longsword backward, like a golden eagle swooping down on its prey, he pounced down from the mast with force, drawing a beautiful arc with the longsword, cutting past the witch doctor's neck.
Thud——
The shriveled head fell to the ground, a look of disbelief still on its face, but its eyes were lifeless.
Aiven himself, using the tip of his foot to touch the deck, continued to roll forward, quickly distancing from where the witch doctor was. Afraid that this witch doctor would follow in the footsteps of Blood Anchor Zack, not content with just dying himself.
Fortunately, whether due to the witch doctor's lack of skill or something else, Aiven's concern didn't materialize. The half-baked witch doctor was cleanly dealt with by the warrior's flying dragon strike.
Daring not to touch anything on such a person's body, considering Aiven knew nothing about witchcraft, he wasn't about to risk himself getting into trouble for the sake of loot.
Aiven found the leftover fire oil on the pirate ship and directly set the old witch doctor's body and belongings ablaze, burning them to ashes.
While the fire was still burning, Aiven cooperated with the sailors who had boarded the pirate ship to clean up the last of the pirates on board, encountering no more difficult enemies this time.
The quality of the fire oil the pirates prepared was good; by the time everything was over, the witch doctor's body had almost been burned to ashes.
A large section of the well fireproofed deck was also charred, but fortunately, Aiven had removed nearby flammable items before setting the fire; otherwise, this pirate ship would undeniably follow the fate of the Warrior.
However, something remained unscathed.
"What is this?"
Amidst the burnt bones and ashes, a black stone sculpture resembling a sunken ship lay quietly, its smooth surface showing not a single sign of scorching.
Step.. step.. step..
Aiven walked forward, glancing at the strange object. As if driven by an unseen force, he put his hand on it; the surface was icy cold, and the earlier flames felt like an illusion.
"Splash!"
But in the next moment, it felt like stepping into the salty seawater, and Aiven found himself rapidly sinking, reaching the seafloor in just a moment.
Boundless darkness enveloped him.
The seafloor mud squirmed, wrapping around him, suffocation, coldness, stench; countless negative sensations from his senses drowned Aiven.
Time's flow suddenly accelerated; innumerable barnacles, tube worms, bryozoans, mussels, algae, and other parasites grew rapidly on him, lifting his hands—one had turned into a crab claw covered in carapace, the other decomposed into countless black algae of unknown variety.
A sudden sense of terror snapped him awake for a moment, suddenly seeing a huge red exclamation mark in his vision, an urgent alert sound ringing in his ears.
"Mental state shift, alarm! Alarm!"
Instantly aware that he was trapped in an inexplicable illusion, Aiven mustered all his strength for a hard struggle.
"Pop——!"