Chapter 113: Diver (3)
That evening, on the coast of Mudside.
"Here, take one each."
Hardin, clad in a black diving suit, handed out wooden lances to the knights from a wooden box.
‘Is this really okay?’
‘Ughhh...’
The knights, dressed the same, received the lances one by one with worried expressions.
Manton, his face tense, asked Hardin.
"Young Master, are you sure it’s okay to do something like this?"
"What now? What's the problem?"
"From a certain point of view, this might be considered a crime..."
To that, Hardin shrugged and replied.
"It is a crime."
"Excuse me?"
"It’s a crime. We're poking holes in someone else’s ship—if that’s not a crime, what is?"
"...And you’re really going to go through with it?"
"If we want to protect the port, what other choice do we have?"
"But... if we get caught, it could be a huge problem."
Hardin snorted and replied.
"That’s why we’re not going to get caught."
"Sorry?"
"Crime or whatever, it doesn’t matter if you don’t get caught. And weren’t they the ones who struck first, anyway?"
"That’s true, but..."
Just then, as sweat streamed down Manton’s forehead, a loud voice rang out from behind.
"Why are you all acting like we’re going to die, huh? He said it himself, we just don’t get caught!"
When they turned their heads, they saw Mikkelsen holding a lance.
His brows were furrowed tightly—he looked furious.
Then...
"If the port shuts down, we’re all done for anyway! Let’s not start whining now!"
"That’s right!"
A few more knights, seemingly unhinged, shouted as they waved their lances.
Manton looked at them with concern and said to Mikkelsen.
"Aren’t you getting a bit too worked up? You should calm down..."
"Worked up? How can I calm down when the squad leader’s hometown is about to be wiped out?"
"That’s..."
Manton couldn’t answer that and closed his mouth.
Thunk!
At that moment, Hardin rested his lance on his shoulder and spoke.
"Enough noise. Everyone get ready. It’s time to move."
"Ah... Yes."
Hardin turned around and stared at the Count of Tread’s ships floating on the sea.
‘Let’s see here.’
Then he pulled a telescope from his coat and carefully observed every detail—the position of the soldiers, the ship prows, and the paths the water currents followed.
Once he’d finished analyzing everything—
"Alright, everyone, cover your heads with this."
"This is...?"
"For camouflage."
Hardin picked up some seaweed lying on the shore and draped it roughly over his head.
It looked a bit ridiculous...
"Ugh, understood."
Despite their distrustful faces, they all followed Hardin and put seaweed on their heads.
With preparations complete—
"Just follow behind me."
Hardin gestured with his hand and then dove straight into the water.
Splash! Splash!
Hardin and the knights of Daphne moved forward, cutting through the waves.
But for some reason, they couldn’t seem to gain any real speed.
‘The waves are rough.’
‘This... isn’t going to be easy.’
Perhaps the current had shifted in the meantime, as the force of the waves pushing against their bodies grew stronger.
‘Damn, should I just use mana?’
‘At this rate, we’ll never make it...’
Just as Mikkelsen clenched his teeth and tried to draw on his mana, Hardin warned him.
“Don’t even think about using mana—not even a little.”
“Huh? But... I don’t think we’ll be able to move forward like this.”
“Then what, should we go ahead and broadcast to them that we’re attacking? What do you think will happen if you start glowing in the middle of the night?”
“Ah...”
The knights furrowed their brows.
‘Reinforced Body’, which always manifested when using mana.
In this darkness, if a blue glow started to leak out... it would only be a matter of time before the enemy spotted them.
At that moment, Manton, who had stuck close behind Hardin, spoke.
“But if we can’t use mana, we’ll be completely exhausted before we even reach the ships...”
Then—
Swish.
Something slid up in front of Manton’s face.
Startled, he looked closer—it was Hardin’s wooden lance, extended backward.
“Grab it.”
“Excuse me? What is this for...?”
“Just grab it. And extend yours back too.”
“...Understood.”
Manton took hold of it and extended his own lance behind him.
Then the other knights followed suit, linking up in a straight line like a long worm.
“Keep in sync with me.”
Hardin took a deep breath, then forcefully pushed the water away with his legs and one arm.
His posture was close to a breaststroke form—easy to breathe in and efficient for conserving stamina.
Then—
“Urrgh! Let’s go! We’ve got to smash those bastards!”
Mikkelsen, latched on from the back, shouted while thrashing his limbs.
“Let’s go, let’s gooo!”
“We’re the ones protecting this port!”
Maybe influenced by this energy,
The other knights began kicking in rhythm, and slowly but surely, their bodies started moving forward.
But the worry didn’t fade from Manton’s face.
‘Can we really pull this off like this?’
He had learned Respiro, but to swim all the way to those ships while underwater... the distance was just too great.
And swimming blindly at this pace wouldn’t cover that distance either.
At this rate, they’d collapse from exhaustion before they even reached the ship.
‘What are you thinking, Young Master?’
Just as he continued forward with a face full of concern—
Hardin’s voice came from up ahead.
“You can let go now.”
“Huh?”
“I said, we’re here—you can let go of it now.”
“What are you talking...?”
At that moment—
Swoooosh! Splash!
“Gah!”
“Wh-what was that!”
Suddenly, a wave surged from behind and smacked the knights squarely on their backs, making their eyes widen in shock.
And then… their bodies suddenly felt lighter and were pushed forward.
Their movement became smoother, as if someone were pushing them from behind.
Manton’s eyes widened at the clear change.
‘Why did the current suddenly reverse?’
The waves had clearly been hitting in the opposite direction just moments ago…
"Y-Young Master. What did you do?"
"It’s a rip current."
"A rip current?"
"Yeah. You’re from a coastal town and you don’t even know that?"
Rip current.
A fast-moving current of water that flows in the opposite direction of the shoreline.
It appears between gaps in waves or rocks when the sea pushes toward the shore, forming a stream that can be anywhere from tens to hundreds of meters long.
Manton, being from Mudside, knew this phenomenon well…
‘He predicted this would happen—and timed it perfectly to ride the current?’
Just how did the Young Master...
At that moment, a memory flashed through Hardin’s mind as he swam.
Dammit… What kind of principle makes this even work?
One of the secrets of Wave Swordsmanship: Rip Current.
It was the very technique inspired by this natural phenomenon that he used when he beat Beryl.
During its development, he had spent nearly several dozen days stuck at sea, and thanks to that...
‘I can tell exactly when it’ll form... even with my eyes closed.’
That was how this operation had become possible.
Hardin spat out a mouthful of seawater to the side and raised his voice.
"Quit acting like you’re dying and move! We need to pick up as much speed as possible, sneak into their blind spot, then dive from there... just like we planned."
"Yes!"
The knights nodded and increased their pace.
Hardin looked toward the distant warships and curled up the corners of his mouth.
‘Just you wait, you bastards...’
I’ll show you exactly what happens when you mess with me—and with Daphne.
---
At that moment, inside the captain’s cabin of the Tread flagship.
"Can’t you extend the deadline just a little? How are we supposed to pay back 7 million gold within a year?"
"Exactly. This demand is far too excessive."
Viscount Cobalt and Malion protested with visibly agitated faces.
"Well, I’d say this is already a generous compromise."
Crunch, crunch.
Chillas, sitting across from them, took a leisurely bite of an apple as he answered.
Bang!
Cobalt slammed his palm down on the table and shouted.
"This is outrageous! Seven million gold—seven million! How could you demand full repayment within a year? We’d need at least five years! Why are you being so cruel?"
"If that's too difficult for you, wouldn’t it be simpler to just shut the port down?"
Foolish bastard...
From the start, there was never any hole for you rats to escape through.
As Chillas continued chewing his apple with an emotionless face, Viscount Cobalt’s voice grew more desperate.
"Please, I beg you! At least extend it to three years—no, even two! If you do that, we’ll somehow come up with the money!"
This time, Viscount Cobalt clasped his hands together and pleaded with a desperate expression.
No sense of pride or dignity remained—just raw desperation.
‘Disgusting.’
A sneer curled at the corner of Chillas’s lips.
Meanwhile—
‘Damn it, why must we suffer such disgrace… Just how much longer must we endure this, brother?’
Malion trembled with rage, but swallowed it back down, biting it into silence.
Then Chillas spoke again.
"Or, how about we raise the interest instead? If you’re willing to tack on, say, 10% annually, then maybe we can consider stretching the term to two years."
"You! That’s absurd—"
Viscount Cobalt was pointing and raising his voice when—
Boom!
"Urgh!"
The ship lurched heavily with a deafening roar.
Everyone in the captain’s quarters stumbled or was thrown off balance.
Crash!
Furniture shattered, and the apple Chillas had been holding rolled away on the floor.
"W-What the hell?"
Chillas immediately summoned his mana, his eyes glowing as he stood up.
But at that moment—
Boom! Boom! Boom!
This time, a series of explosions echoed in succession.
"Damn it..."
Crash!
Chillas steadied himself and rushed out of the captain’s quarters.
And there—
"Aaaaargh!"
"Shiiiiiit!"
He saw sailors rolling and sprawled on the deck, thrown by the shaking of the ship.
Cargo stacked on deck was spilling into the sea, and some crew members had even fallen overboard.
Chillas’s brow furrowed sharply.
"What the hell is this..."
As he scanned his surroundings, a knight came running up to him in a panic.
"S-Squad Leader!"
"What is it?! What’s happening out here?!"
"T-The lower hull's been breached! Water is flooding in from below!"
"What?"
His eyes went wide.
"A breach? In this ship? What the hell caused it?!"
"We don’t know. It happened so suddenly—we haven’t figured out the cause yet..."
"What did you say?"
Chillas’s pupils shook violently.
Clutching his head, he scanned the chaotic deck before raising his head again.
"What about sealing the hole?"
"Impossible. It’s beyond what we can repair!"
"Damn it!"
Crash!
Chillas kicked over a barrel lying nearby.
‘What the hell kind of nightmare is this?!’
Just then—
"Squad Leader, what’s going on?"
"Huh..."
Viscount Cobalt and the Daphne men, who had rushed over late, asked with bewildered expressions.
‘Could it be these bastards’ doing?’
If not them, then who else would pull something like this at a time like this…
As Chillas’s thoughts grew tangled—
"Squad Leader, your orders!"
"For now… move the ship to the nearest shore! Before it sinks—move, fast!"
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Grit.
Chillas ground his teeth, his face twisted in anger.
‘Damn it… why now?’
Just a little longer and he could’ve slit those bastards’ throats.
Why now, of all times...!
"Everyone, move quickly!"
In the end, Chillas had no choice but to swallow his rage and bark out orders.
Meanwhile, at the same time—
"Father."
"...This is..."
Malion and Cobalt, who had been watching the scene unfold from behind, widened their eyes and exchanged glances.
They didn’t need to say anything—they knew instinctively.
‘It’s Brother.’
‘It’s Hardin.’
But how?
In the middle of the ocean… piercing the bottom of a ship? Is that even possible?
Perplexity crossed both their faces.
While chaos reigned around them, the two of them moved toward the railing of the ship and looked down at the sea.
And then—
Swoooosh!
"Hm?"
"What’s that..."
Something black was passing across the surface of the water.
Roughly thirty figures.
Upon focusing their eyes, they could make out vaguely human-shaped silhouettes riding the waves, swimming.
And they were headed precisely in the direction of the pier.
Which meant...
Flinch.
The two men gasped softly and whispered.
"That… looks like our knight order, doesn’t it?"
"I-It does seem that way."
S-So it really was them?
To think they’d do something this insane...
Just as confusion flooded their expressions—
"Dammit! Who the hell is responsible for this?!"
Squad Leader Chillas shouted at the top of his lungs and stormed toward the railing.
Toward the direction where Hardin—or what appeared to be Hardin and his group—had disappeared.
‘…?!’
In that moment, a chill ran down the spines of the Lord and Malion.
"S-Squad Leader Chillas."
"What?"
Cobalt quickly rushed over, threw an arm around Chillas’s shoulders, and smiled brightly.
"L-Look, we’ll seriously consider your offer. One year… One year doesn’t sound so bad, actually!"
"What did you say?"
Cobalt blurted out whatever came to mind.
Chillas scowled fiercely at him.
"Get out of my way! You think this is the time to be talking about that?"
Wham!
He shoved Cobalt aside and tried to move back toward the railing.
This time, Malion blocked his path.
"I-Is there anything we can do to help? We’ll do our utmost to assist, within our means."
"I told you, I don’t need any of that crap!"
"But…!"
"Don’t get in my way! Get lost!"
Vrrrrrm!
Chillas drew his sword, eyes glowing with mana, and shouted.
He looked as though he’d swing at any moment.
Malion raised his palms and backed away slowly.
"A-Alright, so please, put that sword down—"
"Rrrrgh! Damniiiit!"
Chillas screamed and stormed off in the opposite direction.
After that whirlwind of fury swept past—
"Phew..."
They were alive.
Cobalt and Malion both let out a sigh of relief at nearly the same time.
Their eyes drifted once more toward Mudside.
From the shore, dozens of black figures crawled up onto land like cockroaches and quickly disappeared into the darkness.
‘Just what kind of stunt did you pull, Brother?’
‘Hardin, what the hell did you do?’
Perplexity clouded the faces of both the Lord and Malion.
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