Pirate Kingship

"Captain, look! The lighthouse on Tayman Brak Island has come into view."

"According to the coordinates on the nautical chart, this is the only island nearby; there can't be a mistake."

As the World's Fastest Three-Master, the *Golden Deer* had taken only about two days to complete a journey that would take other merchant ships at least five. Aided by the cover of the dim night, they arrived at their destination on the boundary between the eastern and western parts of the Banta'an Archipelago.

Of course, this was largely thanks to the nautical knowledge in Byron's mind, a decade ahead of most ordinary adventurers. He remembered many hidden supply points, safe oceanic routes, private ports... and the absolutely fatal no-go zones. Barring exceptionally bad luck, arriving safely at the Hightins colony was not an issue.

Byron handed the ship's wheel to Guardian Knight Bruch, activated Spirit Vision, and raised his brass telescope to gaze at the small island shrouded in the night.

Colonial lighthouses generally used whale oil for illumination. A brazier would be filled with whale oil, mixed with a small amount of spices, and once lit, its light would be reflected by a huge mirror. The small, lowest-grade lighthouse on the edge of Tayman Brak Island emitted a light that wasn't very bright in the Material World, becoming somewhat hazy just a few nautical miles away. However, in Spirit Vision, a brilliant column of light pierced the sky, ascending into the void and drawing a silver-white giant net that enveloped the entire island, keeping many inexplicable and bizarre things at bay.

That was precisely the Silver Law, using lighthouses as anchors and nodes, expanding from the Old Continent to these bloody, chaotic overseas lands. This was also why every overseas colony, no matter how small, had to build a lighthouse immediately. Looking into the distance, in other directions invisible to the naked eye across the sea, column after column of light pierced the darkness, each representing a lighthouse. Human colonial settlements might lack churches, but they would always have a lighthouse and a tavern.

Notably, the Lighthouse Union, formed by Lighthouse Sequence Transcendents, was an international organization that favored no particular side. Regardless of which power applied, as long as the landowner paid the fee, they would construct lighthouses of three levels, from low to high, in every place humans reached. The Lighthouse Union had played a pivotal role in humanity's overseas expansion.

Byron deactivated Spirit Vision; superficially, he found no anomalies on the island. However, he took the time to enlighten the pirate officers around him about this organization.

"Common people only pay attention to maritime powers with vast colonies, or those Great Pirates and Pirate Warlords who rule their domains like kings. Little do they know, the seemingly detached Lighthouse Union is actually the one with the greatest potential energy among the many powers and groups! Their influence reaches every inhabited corner overseas; even the Church has to treat this force politely. Since we're preparing to manage our own territory, we'll inevitably have to deal with them sooner or later, perhaps even achieve deep cooperation. But for today, let's get to work."

At this moment, Sailor Chief 'Honest Man' Eight Fingers, who seemed to have been holding back for some time, couldn't help but suggest, "Captain, those nobles just bully us honest folks. Since you have the Earl's authorization, this island is your land.

"Moreover, this is merely a small, private, autonomous colony. Apart from paying taxes, it has little to do with the Kingdom of Castile's officials.

"Why don't we just go all the way... and chop them down!"

The battle-axe in his hand twirled, its keen blade and his teeth reflecting a chilling light.

As Byron's top henchman, Eight Fingers had followed him for a long time. He was no longer the petty pirate who couldn't utter a word even after a Gourmet had bitten off two of his fingers. Not only was he just one final ceremony away from ascending to Bayfolk Berserker, but his accumulation of various kinds of knowledge had also soared. He was no longer completely in the dark about the situation in the overseas colonies.

The colonization craze in the Banta'an Archipelago had only begun a few short decades ago. In fact, in the beginning, the official bodies and Royal Families of most colonial nations lacked money, manpower, and sufficient military strength. Yet, no one wanted to idly watch those vast, rich lands teeming with opportunity slip through their fingers. Therefore, the monarchs of various countries, including the then-reigning Lancaster Royal Family, jointly adopted a brilliant idea. They supported private colonial companies in their pioneering efforts and, through charters, issued a call to their nations' commoners, merchants, adventurers, and nobles of all ranks. They granted them rights to the land, forests, and minerals within their colonial territories. These grants also included the right to establish churches and nominate clergy, judicial jurisdiction, special usage rights, exemptions, royal privileges, and a certain period of tax exemption. Most importantly, they received the right to freely determine, create, and promulgate laws, provided they did not violate the King's Royal Iron Law!

In simple terms, the Kingdom granted these pioneers complete economic autonomy and political privileges, far exceeding the freedom of traditional nobility on the Old Continent. As long as they didn't openly rebel or stop paying taxes, they were virtual emperors in their own territories, free to do as they pleased. If one possessed the relevant knowledge, even training their own Law Mages was entirely legal.

Thus, to date, apart from the main colonial forces of various nations' officials and Royal Families, these seas were also home to numerous "company colonies" established by pioneering companies and overseas trading firms; "proprietor colonies" established by nobles from various lands; and "autonomous colonies" established by adventurers, major merchants, and even commoner Transcendents.

In short, as long as you possessed a charter, could establish a lighthouse, and hold your ground, you could gain official recognition. This required submitting the lordly decrees or popular covenants of your territory to the colonial Governor's Mansion and maritime court of your home country.

"Captain, the Grenville Earldom in the Tayman Archipelago, which now belongs to you, is one of these 'proprietor colonies.' The Tayman Brak Island, occupied by that group of People of Castilia, is just an 'autonomous colony' made up of private pioneers. To some extent, you are the legitimate 'lord' here. You surpass the Newman Family. They are concerned about domestic affairs and wary of the Kingdom of Castile's reaction, which leaves them hamstrung and only daring to act covertly. Even using force to reclaim this land would be completely in accordance with domestic law."

"Now that you put it that way, it actually..." Byron stroked his chin, forced to admit Eight Fingers had a point. As long as they could withstand potential military intervention from the Kingdom of Castile later on, a more direct approach was indeed feasible. Of course, it was also possible their opponents wouldn't bother with such a minor place, which would be ideal. The risks seemed manageable.

There are indeed two kinds of perfect infiltrations in this world: one is where no one notices, and the other is where there's 'no one' left to notice.

But after some thought, he still temporarily vetoed the suggestion. Major Newman wanted a method for "mass-producing quality spices," and wasn't he equally interested? He intended to plunder, not destroy. Even if radical measures became necessary, it was crucial to understand the island's situation first to act with a clear target. There would be no cure for regret if they accidentally destroyed the treasure.

Besides, Byron had a secret weapon for deep infiltration into enemy territory: an excellent assassin whose presence was practically nil!

"Gus, let's go."

The ship's second mate, 'Phantom Blade' Gus, agile as a monkey, grabbed a rope and leaped down from the crow's nest. He was clearly already practicing his eagle imitation, preparing for the future 'Eagle's Leap,' which would allow him to jump from any height unharmed.

"Haha, Captain, I've been waiting for you to say that! I've been so idle lately, my bones are about to rust. A murder by illusion technique on a deserted island—the name alone sounds thrilling."

Byron arranged for Bruch and the others to be ready to implement the backup plan and provide support at any moment. Then, he and the eager Gus leaped over the ship's side, were caught by two sharks, and slipped onto the small island undetected.

The moment they set foot on the island and caught the distinctive scent of spices, deep blue ink bloomed across a page in Byron's Sailing Logbook:

[The Mystery of Tayman Brak Island's Abundance, Historical Influence 15, Decryption Rate 5%]

「Meanwhile, inside the small chapel, in a secret room still faintly reeking of blood and brain matter.」

The last Second Order Transcendent, besides the old Priest and the young Dancer, was on night watch. He was scraggly-bearded, unimpressive in appearance, and his dirty clothes carried an inescapable scent of earth. This was a Famine Hunter, not commonly seen overseas. From the Fortress Sequence, they had a simple yet significant professional maxim: "Eat well! Dress warmly!" Indeed, on the Old Continent, they were often referred to by another name: farmers. However, when introducing themselves, they always insisted on the more impressive-sounding title of 'Famine Hunters.'

At this moment, this unkempt Famine Hunter was intently staring into the eye sockets of the Crystal Skull. Many words and symbols flowed between their two sets of eyes. After a long while, he blinked his dry eyes and sighed deeply.

"Sigh, the six people I fed it just a few days ago are almost fully digested, and the knowledge it spits out is becoming less and less.

"I'm just a little bit away from accessing an additional part of the agronomy technology for infecting wood with fungi to obtain quality spices.

"This technique doesn't involve drilling holes in trees, and there's nothing outwardly unusual about it, significantly enhancing its secrecy.

"But this Taya Empire Holy Relic won't consume the nearby natives; otherwise, we wouldn't have to constantly risk feeding it people from the Old Continent."

He carried a long-handled sickle, examining the Crystal Skull from all angles, unable to conceal his regret.

"It's such a pity. This treasure from an alien civilization has a deep chasm separating it from the collective subconscious of our Old Continent.

"Even if we brought several First Rank historians and naturalists, they could not decipher the corresponding information from it.

"To guard this secret, we had to kill all those who were brought here.

"Now, we cannot chant the deeds of the Holy Relic to activate its true capabilities, to utilize its complete power.

"We can only rely on the most primitive Blood Sacrifices learned from the natives and Ritual Witchcraft to coax out a little of its vitality and 'abundance' power.

"How is this different from a beggar who starves to death while holding a golden bowl? Such a pity, such a pity!"

This experience of coming away from a treasure mountain empty-handed was enough to drive one mad; such sighs had become a daily routine for all the local pioneers. As he was lamenting, he suddenly heard the Crystal Skull's lower jaw click open and shut, uttering, "Outsiders have invaded the land of abundance in the southwest corner of the island."

The Famine Hunter's first reaction wasn't to immediately raise an alarm, but to stare in astonishment. "How is that possible? Why didn't the lighthouse sound the alarm?!"