"This kind of thing can't be done well by one person alone!"
Leilin smiled as he sat down beside
"Don't..." Isabel struggled.
"Sit still!" Leilin's expression turned stern, causing Isabel to falter, her grip even weakening somewhat.
Leilin slowly rolled up Isabel's sleeve. What he saw was not fair, delicate young skin, but rather an arm covered in strange scales, with a curved wound at the shoulder and elbow—the injury Steve had inflicted earlier.
"Demonic transformation? And it seems to be a fairly high-level conversion ritual..."
Leilin shrugged, then skillfully used magical energy to treat Isabel's wound, applying medicine and bandaging it up in the end.
"It's ugly... isn't it?" At some point, Isabel had turned her face away, her voice seeming to carry a slight choke.
"No! Actually, it's not bad at all!"
Leilin said earnestly. After all, his own transformation into a warlock hadn't been much better—he was practically an existence that had completely abandoned his human form.
"There's one more thing..."
Leilin seemed focused on treating the wound, his voice still speaking softly.
"I want to establish a privateering fleet, and I hope you'll come help me!"
"Be a pirate? Why?" Isabel's face froze. Privateering was just a fancy word for piracy.
"They came to bully us, so we should return the favor!" Leilin sneered.
"As for personnel, those pirates from the Black Tiger Pirate
"Also, I've found you a decent first mate—this
"With our people as the backbone, those pirates as the rank-and-file, plus the captured pirate ships and Steve's wealth, we should be able to assemble a force quickly. I need you to keep this power firmly in your hands..."
Leilin deftly finished wrapping the bandages, and by now Isabel had wiped the tears from her face, returning to her previously tough image—though Leilin felt the crying girl just now had been more like the cousin he remembered from childhood.
"How do you know I'll agree?"
Isabel looked at Leilin.
"Because it's my request! Dear cousin!" Leilin smiled, bringing a slight flush to Isabel's cheeks.
"I need to think about it! You can leave now!"
Clearly, being alone with Leilin in the cramped cabin made Isabel feel somewhat uneasy.
"I'll await your favorable reply!" Leilin walked out, politely closing the door behind him. In truth, he knew she had already agreed, since it was also beneficial for Isabel.
"...High-level demon? Heh..." Leilin stroked his chin, a peculiar gleam in his eyes.
Commanding a pirate fleet! It sounded rather outrageous—after all, for a noble to engage in such sinful behavior was truly a disgrace to one's name.
But in reality, Leilin knew exactly what evil lay hidden beneath the nobility's veneer of glory, civilization, and noblesse oblige. Every gold coin a noble spent was stained with the blood and tears of the innocent.
Even his own father, Baron Jonas, had actually always hoped to secure the support of some pirate crew or establish a privateering fleet to strike at his enemies, and had been working toward that goal.
Of course, since his time as a baron was still short, managing his fief properly was challenge enough, so the baron's plans had never been implemented.
As for the crime of piracy? That was a joke—no noble cared about that!
"This is newly discovered open sea, meaning no deeply entrenched forces exist here yet. It's still a blank canvas. And the profits from the sea—how can I let that Marquis Louis take them all?"
Leilin sneered. Whether it was purchasing high-level magical materials or building a mage tower in the future, he would need enormous resources and gold. How could he simply hand over the profits of the open sea?
Moreover, he was not the type to take a beating without fighting back.
That marquis's "favor"—he would repay it handsomely in the future. A handful of island groups in the Bodie Archipelago controlling a maritime armed merchant fleet and several pirate crews—did the marquis really think he was all that?
If not for concerns about Faolan Island and the family there, Leilin alone could have run guerrilla operations that left the marquis in utter disarray.
"Once the pirate crew is established, it can also give cousin a place to settle down. After all, in a mixed and chaotic place like the open sea, the gods won't pay too much attention, and occasional sacrificial rituals can be kept as secret as possible..."
Whether Isabel could appreciate Leilin's intentions was another matter, but he was confident that as long as it was his request, his cousin would never refuse.
"Woo-woo"
Waves continuously crashed against the hull, sending up gentle ripples, while not far away several seagull-like birds beat their wings and soared into the sky, letting out distant cries.
"This isn't far from Faolan Island, and it's only a short voyage, so there shouldn't be any problems..."
Leilin leaned on the railing, gazing down at the deep, dark ocean. The sea was never a calm place—tidal waves, storms, and even numerous deep-sea creatures could instantly destroy an entire fleet.
For the sailors of the open sea, every day was like dancing on the edge of a knife, with the possibility of returning to death's embrace at any moment.
"Among the gods, there are several who hold divine domains related to the ocean—like the Storm Goddess that Steve worships!"
Leilin's expression grew somewhat solemn.
That Steve actually had some priestly abilities. Although he could only cast the most basic divine spells, it was enough to put Leilin on guard.
Fortunately, the Storm Goddess was famously capricious—she frequently raised massive storms and tsunamis, destroying countless ships and fishing vessels, all to harvest the belief power born of fear!
Therefore, Steve had most likely pleased the Storm Goddess greatly during some ritual or prayer, prompting her to make an exception and grant him divine spells.
Otherwise, no matter how Leilin looked at it, he couldn't connect Steve with being a priest.
But even so, this was a significant problem. No matter how contemptible Steve might be, he still held a priestly rank, and Leilin didn't dare kill him lightly.
If they were alone out in the open, he could have silenced the guy—so long as word didn't get out, everything would be fine.
But this time there were too many people, too many tongues, and so many prisoners and even escapees. The fact that Steve had fallen into his hands was undeniable. If the man died now, it would actually cause considerable trouble.
Leilin didn't want to attract the attention of any true god's church, much less its hostility.
"What a waste—the man is a tenth-level warrior with priestly levels..."
A flash of crimson light appeared in Leilin's hand. The Devil's Blood Dagger flowed between his fingers, shimmering with dangerous light before quickly subsiding.
His current self could indeed devour flesh and blood to convert into spiritual energy to promote a mage's breakthrough, but there were requirements.
Before the energy from the last consumption was fully digested, he couldn't perform the next absorption. Moreover, a sudden surge of power posed a tremendous test for a mage's control.
If a first-level mage suddenly jumped to Legendary status, he would first be consumed by the violent mana raging through his body. Fortunately, on this front Leilin had a significant advantage—his true body had already reached the demigod level, and his control over energy was exquisite beyond measure. Spells and witchcraft always shared certain similarities, and his current mage level, when converted, was roughly equivalent to a first or second-level wizard.
Given all these considerations, Steve was lucky to still be alive. Otherwise, Leilin would have reduced him to a pile of dry bones long ago.
Leilin was now very selective about whose flesh and blood he consumed. Only elite professionals or powerful magical beasts could satisfy his pursuit of life energy. As for those insignificant pirates? He couldn't care less about them—even devouring all of them might not compare to Steve alone, let alone considering the impurity of the energy.
"The energy levels of this world seem to have very strict limitations..."
Leilin glanced at his data panel. Since he hadn't used the Devil's Blood Dagger this time, his stats remained unchanged from before.
"The standard of 1 point for an adult, then 10 points, 20 points—it's as if each one is a threshold!"
Leilin now had a much deeper understanding of this data.
For ordinary people to break through the 1-point threshold in their stats and become professionals was already very difficult, let alone mastering even greater power afterward.
And 10 points was an enormous threshold. Leilin's current highest stat—Spiritual Power—was only at 7 points.
By his estimate, only after advancing to tenth-level mage would it be possible to break through this threshold.
"A mage above the tenth level is already considered a powerhouse in the world of the gods. Is this the dividing line? Only when a single stat breaks through 10 points is one truly a powerhouse..."
Leilin had a premonition that increasing attributes in this world would be extremely difficult, becoming harder the further one progressed. Once his Spiritual Power reached 10, especially after advancing to Archmage, even the Devil's Blood Dagger would provide negligible enhancement and assistance.
"A harsh world, restricted supernatural power—even gods must submit to the world's rules..."
A fiery eagerness burned in Leilin's eyes.
At that moment, cheers rose from elsewhere: "We've arrived! I can see the lighthouse at the port!"
Leilin looked ahead, and indeed, through a layer of sea mist, he spotted a warm yellow light—the warmth of Faolan Harbor, which brought a smile to his face.