Chapter 332: Easily Eradicated

In the Fleming family estate of Goldfeather City,

Maelen lounged on a plush beast-hide sofa, savoring the latest vintage from the Gri Highlands with quiet delight.

Past fifty, his power had advanced slowly—he doubted he’d ever break through to the Grand Mage tier.

Better to savor this fine life than spend every day in meditation and cultivation.

“Lord, we’ve uncovered the royal fleet’s purpose for setting sail.”

His knightly subordinate reported the latest intelligence.

“Speak.”

“It’s said His Majesty is furious over the pirate raid on Count Ronin. After interrogating the captured pirates, he confirmed the gang’s base—and this expedition is aimed squarely at the White Whale Pirates.”

A flicker of cold light flashed in Maelen’s eyes, then vanished as swiftly as it came.

“So they mean to eradicate the White Whale Pirates?”

“Yes, my lord.” The knight hesitated. “Shall we offer support?”

Maelen fell into thought.

After a long while, he shook his head, rejecting the suggestion.

“Our King Bruno is a man who values face. He’s sent his own ships—should we interfere, the Screaming Sea would erupt again in a crusade against pirates. I’ve no interest in answering such trivial calls.”

“And your intention, then?”

“Send word at once to Hurd. Have him take a few core members and the assets, and leave that place.”

Maelen took another sip of wine. “Leave the unimportant ones behind—let His Majesty’s men vent their fury on them.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Maelen swirled the wine in his glass, and the memory of the White Whale Pirates’ assassination of Ronin stirred a quiet anger within him.

He loved business—but he hated losing money.

This scheme, orchestrated by Moonlight Valley to eliminate Ronin, had been a disastrous investment.

He’d lost two large ships, several knights, and now even the White Whale Pirates had to relocate their base.

Rebuilding a pirate crew wasn’t difficult—but the whole affair left a bitter taste.

“Hesus was always full of empty promises. Swore it would be a hundred percent success—and look where we are.”

Maelen held deep resentment toward the Earl of Moonlight Valley.

Had he been in charge, he wouldn’t have sent just one Gold Knight. At least two.

He recalled Ronin’s championship duel against Karada at the Tournament—killing a man like that wouldn’t be easy with two Gold Knights. Five, perhaps?

Sending five Gold Knights at once might be too conspicuous—but his son-in-law, Ramsay, the Meteor Knight, could move freely.

Eliminating a man with such potential? Worth a Meteor Knight’s blade.

“Thankfully, Ronin doesn’t know I was involved in the assassination.”

Maelen breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Soon after, a Fleming family messenger bird landed on a remote isle.

The island had no official name—but since the White Whale Pirates took residence, it had become known as White Whale Island.

Technically an island, its landmass was tiny; an ordinary person could circle its edge in under an hour.

Yet on this minuscule patch of land stood a rudimentary dock.

Inside a spacious wooden building on the isle, the White Whale Pirates’ captain read a single letter.

It bore only one word, brutally concise: *Withdraw*.

To outsiders, it meant nothing.

To him, it meant everything.

After a brief pause, he rose abruptly and strode out.

...

On the boundless sea, Captain Vic, conscripted by Ronin, steered the vessel Ronin had named *White Whale*, leading the way.

Behind him sailed two vessels of the Denis family, and the royal warship.

Ronin himself rode aboard the royal vessel.

Forty meters long, it dwarfed even Denis No. 1.

Ronin had toured every inch of it, his heart swelling with envy.

They said such a warship cost over fifty thousand gold coins—and even then, you couldn’t always buy one.

Now, Ronin leaned against the railing, letting the sea breeze brush his face.

They’d sailed a full day. According to Vic, they’d reach White Whale Island in half a day more.

“You’re not going to go say hello to Micy?” Ronin teased Karada, glancing sideways.

When Karada had first seen Micy among the royal delegation at the harbor, his expression had been priceless.

Yet since then, barely a few words had passed between them.

Karada lifted his gaze to Micy, who stood at the bow, feeding her griffin.

His eyes burned with the urge to approach—but his feet remained rooted.

“It’s better to keep some distance,” he finally muttered.

Ever since Lud had spoken to him, he’d deliberately kept away from Micy—to spare her the gossip.

Ronin rolled his eyes.

He’d once thought Karada was hopelessly infatuated. Now he knew they both felt something—but class had built a wall between them.

He stepped to Karada’s side and kicked him hard in the rear, sending him stumbling toward Micy.

*If you can’t seize an opportunity like this, how will my domain ever produce a true talent?*

Love mattered. But having a powerful female knight in Ubei who could train griffins? That mattered too.

Karada crashed onto the deck with a thud. The noise drew Micy’s attention.

“Uh…”

He rose, glanced back at Ronin, then scratched his head, embarrassed.

“Little White’s grown a bit.”

Little White was Micy’s griffin’s nickname.

“Little White’s been an adult for years. She doesn’t grow anymore,” Micy laughed.

Ronin shook his head. Their opening line was truly legendary.

He turned and stepped into the cabin.

As he passed Melonika’s quarters, he paused.

This middle-aged man spent nearly all his time training.

Since departure, he’d scarcely left his room.

Last night, Ronin had tried to bond with him, asking what he was up to.

The man replied he was studying Rulans’ gifted technique, *Flame Dance, Thunder Strike*, striving to master it soon.

Luo Ning truly feared the opponent might employ this tactic aboard the ship, lest it be torn apart.

Fortunately, the opponent merely claimed to be refining attribute fusion techniques and would not unleash any devastating attacks.

“What a diligent person.”

Luo Ning returned to his cabin, spread out the beast hide, and began inscribing a spell scroll.

Time slipped away swiftly, and before he knew it, it was noon of the next day.

Across the vast ocean, an island emerged; as the vessel drew nearer, its silhouette and a rudimentary dock came into view.

This was the base of the White Whale Pirate Crew.

Yet the scene made Luo Ning frown—around the crude dock lay only two tiny wooden boats, no larger than skiffs; not a single sailboat ten meters long, nor even one five meters in length.

“Could this truly be the White Whale Pirate Crew’s base?”

Luo Ning harbored deep suspicion. “Could Wei Ke have been dishonest, deceiving us?” (End of Chapter)