The one who silently approached the frogman from behind was none other than Byron. Not to mention that under the barrage of chaotic bombing, hardly any pirates remained on the ship. Even if they had all been unharmed, with Fat Dragon's memories, temporarily impersonating a crew member would not have been difficult.

He had set his sights on the *Barnacle Crab* and that particular contract conch back in Black Sails Harbor, knowing very well what the most valuable asset in this pirate fleet was. Seizing the opportunity, he immediately abandoned his own fleet, which had been pulled to the rear, disguised himself, and slipped onto the *Frog Warrior*. Taking advantage of the fact that Jerome was seriously injured, in critical condition, and not paying attention, Byron struck decisively.

"Python Swallowing an Elephant." After reciting the severing inscription and flicking his Snake Skin Bag, three 32-pound carronades crashed onto the pirate ship's battered deck. The maximum load of this Storage Curio was only ten tons. However, these 32-pound carronades were machined with a boring bar, allowing for thinner barrel walls and larger cannonballs. Their killing power at a few dozen meters far surpassed standard artillery of the same weight, yet they weighed only a third of a standard cannon of the same caliber—just under a ton. He could fit ten such carronades in the bag at once!

To complement his strongest assassination technique, he hadn't purchased any more. Instead, he used the Eighth Crystal Skull's *Morningstar Light of Knowledge* to directly transform a pile of iron ore into finely crafted cannons. He was known as the fastest gunslinger in the Low Sequence; quick to draw his gun, he was now equally swift as lightning in firing the cannons.

"Storm Sword Technique Secret Art: Metal Storm!"

His *Son of the Storm* ability, synchronized with his Flow State, made the surrounding winds an extension of his limbs. While he might not have been able to lift the cannons directly, simultaneously creating three small electric sparks on their flash pans was effortless.

BOOM—!

Three pre-loaded canister shots detonated, unleashing 1,500 small iron balls in a metal storm that instantly enveloped all the frogman's escape routes.

CROAK—!

The frogman, a practitioner of forbidden knowledge, was already essentially non-human after completing his second ascension ritual to the Middle Sequence. If he successfully performed the third ritual, he would transform into the Mythical Creature *Tidecaller Frogman*, capable of manipulating sea currents and tides.

Now, uttering a piercing, stone-shattering croak, he tossed the conch aside. Clasping his hands, his body abruptly became translucent and water-like. The surrounding seawater and the blood on the deck coalesced around him, forming a rapidly spinning Rapid Water Ring to desperately resist the encroaching metal storm.

But it was too close—far too close. He had only ever heard of cannons with ranges of one or two kilometers and effective ranges of one or two hundred meters. What difference was there between this bombardment at seven paces and a pistol pressed to his forehead?!

A watery mist erupted, and the raging Rapid Water Ring was, as expected, torn to shreds by the metal storm. The frogman, his body like a broken doll, collapsed onto the deck with a thud, convulsing as his light-blue blood pooled around him.

Byron felt a surge of Spirituality within him. He reached out, and the conch on the deck flew into his hand. His ability, *Why Did You Engrave Your Name on My Smoking Pipe?*, activated. By openly stating this phrase to an item's owner before forcibly taking it, he could claim permanent possession—not just physically, but also inheriting its mystical ownership. A faint light flickered over the contract conch, and he instantly became the new master of the *Barnacle Crab*.

"Ha! With this treasure, a good part of the Bantaan Archipelago will become my backyard," Byron mused aloud. "Controlling the eastern trade routes and setting up tax checkpoints will be no problem. If anyone dares compete, I can concentrate my forces for precise long-range deployment and eliminate them in one go. I could even dabble in legitimate logistics, specializing in premium express services. I've even thought of a name: Westwind Express!"

Just then, Byron felt a sudden weightlessness; the brief delay had allowed the Blue Hole to fully open. All ships within a two-kilometer radius lost buoyancy and plunged into the vortex. The *Golden Deer* and the Pioneer Navigation Colonization Company's Privateer Fleet, however, had been "deliberately" pushed to the rear and remained unaffected. In contrast, Rear Admiral Newman, his ship *The Support*, and a host of opportunistic allied forces were not so fortunate. Screaming, they vanished from the sea's surface.

"Croak…"

The frogman beneath Byron's feet let out a weak gurgle. As a Third Order non-human creature, its vitality was incredibly tenacious; it hadn't breathed its last. "The Deep Sea Leap has begun… Don't… don't get cocky. You won't escape either. We're going to the main battlefield of the Overlords! You dared to touch the Pirate King's property—*Lord Blue Hair* will definitely not… for… forgive you!"

The voice was so faint it was almost inaudible. Byron cleaned out an ear and asked, "What did you say? Say it again?"

The next moment, the frogman's already huge eyes bulged even wider. Byron, however, was treading on a wisp of sea breeze, drifting upward like a weightless leaf. What did it matter to him if the water lacked buoyancy? As long as the air had it, he was fine.

Clearly, only a fool would physically go to a battlefield where two great Overlords were slaughtering each other. Meanwhile, the *Holy Grail of Blood* in his palm lit up, reaping everything from the dying frogman.

Moreover, under Byron's command, the *Barnacle Crab* didn't follow the other ships into the Blue Hole. Instead, as the Blue Hole sucked away the surrounding polluted seawater, the crab dove back into the depths and swiftly made its escape.

In the blink of an eye, the sea returned to calm. The Barbary Pirates had vanished without a trace, and the third-party forces within the Joint Fleet had been reduced by a full fifth. Subsequently, the attention of all powers in the Bantaan Archipelago shifted to the main battlefield: Campeche Bay.

「An hour and a half earlier.」

The Castilian Invincible Fleet, having entered the bay, had already assumed a landing formation. Not far from shore, a group of Middle Sequence Transcendents was fiercely battling the *Bone Gnawing God*. Their clash resembled a fight between ancient behemoths, felling swathes of trees like straw. The terrifying aura of the battle sent countless birds, beasts, Demon Monsters, and Evil Spirits in the forest fleeing for their lives.

"The rest of you, pin down that Curse Spirit! Give the *True Cross Fragment* an opening for a one-hit kill," Governor of Havana Velazquez commanded from outside the main battle. "I will attempt to find a way to permanently destroy this monster." He clutched a valuable Antique Gold Coin, weaving a contract with his Spirituality, ready to act.

A Pawnbroker at the Third Order gained an advanced ability called *Pawn Contract*. Ordinary pawnshops typically exchange physical property—such as antiques, art, clocks, and Miracles—for money, essentially conducting lending businesses with personal property as collateral. They are normally seen as a supplement to banking, primarily offering currency loans with goods sales as a secondary function. Pawnbrokers of the Gold Sequence, however, were different. Their traded items weren't limited to physical property; they also dealt in many special, intangible goods rooted in Spirituality. Examples included a person's remaining happiness, well-being, courage, self-confidence—even transcendent abilities bestowed by the Silver Law or derived from Black Sorcery!

Pawnbrokers could use the power of these pledged items as if they were Miracles. However, their most common and straightforward method was *Contract Fraud*: paying a trivial sum to take one of another Transcendent's abilities as collateral. Then, using their wealth, influence, or contractual traps, they would compel the other party to default, thereby forcibly seizing the transcendent ability. Once collateral became unredeemed, they could dispose of it as they wished—sell it or use it themselves. This was similar to the Lighthouse Sequence Pirate's Third Order ability, *Plunder as Fire*—one achieved through cunning, the other through outright force. These were among the few professions capable of forcibly seizing another's transcendent abilities.

It was said that when Pawnbrokers reached the High Sequences, the range of pawnable items expanded further, extending to a person's physical body or even their fate. Beauty, health, love, financial fortune—things mortals desperately pursued yet often failed to attain—would be within their reach. Even if they couldn't create such things from nothing and could only acquire them through trade, it was akin to touching the divine realm of wish fulfillment.

Of course, Pawnbrokers capable of advancing to High Sequences were exceedingly rare worldwide; one couldn't even be found openly. If one could fulfill the desires of the powerful, what need would there be for the Church?

And now, Velazquez was attempting to use *Contract Fraud*. Ignoring the *Bone Gnawing God's* true intentions, he aimed to complete an unbelievable transaction: forcibly stripping away the creature's *Undying Body*!