Lord: I can see loyalty.

As the fat pirate's voice faded, the pirates on both sides parted to make way for him.

This allowed the "Grey Hyena Mercenary Group" from the southern border to pass through the rudimentary checkpoint and enter Freedore in the western border.

Frido Port was much more bustling than they had imagined.

The dock was filled with all kinds of ships, including many merchant ships, with cargo piled on the decks and sailors shouting as they unloaded the cargo. It didn't look like a pirate-occupied area at all.

Further away, several massive warships were quietly anchored, their iron rams gleaming coldly in the sunlight, while pirates patrolled back and forth on their decks.

The streets on the shore were bustling with activity, the sounds of vendors hawking their wares mingling with the noise from the taverns.

People dressed in various colors moved among them, including local merchants from the West, sailors, and the majority of them were ragged laborers.

Of course, there were also pirates who carried weapons on their waists.

If it weren't for the occasional prominent notices on the walls that read "Lord Philip," one would almost forget that this was a city occupied by pirates.

"It's really lively," Sloan said in a low voice, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily. "It's much more lively than I expected."

"The more lively it is, the better." Vance observed calmly, his voice barely audible: "The more lively it is, the easier it is for us to fish in troubled waters."

They walked along the dock, pretending to be looking for a suitable place to stay.

Behind them, the Sky-Top Knights, disguised as mercenaries, dispersed in twos and threes. Some went into the tavern, some gathered near the merchant ship to "watch the excitement," and some simply squatted by the roadside and chatted with the local laborers.

Everything is going according to plan.

"Vans, how's Lord Cohen doing these days?" Sloan asked in a low voice.

Vance did not answer, but simply looked up at the warships in the distance.

Cohen's plan was simple, yet bold—to divide his forces into three groups.

Vance and his group infiltrated the port as the "Grey Hyena Mercenary Group" to gather intelligence from the lower levels.

Pirates always need to eat, drink, and relieve themselves, and they always need to deal with local merchants who can't leave. The bits and pieces of information that slip out of the mouths of tavern owners, dockworkers, and even prostitutes on the street often contain intelligence from the pirates when they are drunk.

The second group consisted of a small squad of elite pirates from the Black Pearl. They were all new crew members and the Western pirates did not recognize them.

Instead of going into the city, they sailed two modified speedboats, disguised as ordinary fishing boats, out to sea near Frido.

That sea area was also the territory of the Western Pirates. Merchant ships from other places dared not approach it, but small fishing boats occasionally strayed in. As long as they did not go too deep, they would not be chased too fiercely.

What they had to do was record the number and size of the ships coming and going; this intelligence would allow them to piece together the enemy's approximate strength.

The third group was led by Cohen himself.

Vance didn't know where they went.

Cohen simply said, "I'll find those pirate leaders." Then, with a few agile men, he took the lead and headed towards Freedore Port, disappearing into the intricate network of alleyways.

Vance snapped out of his thoughts and was about to speak when he suddenly caught sight of several figures out of the corner of his eye.

He immediately pulled Sloan to the side, pretending to look at the junk at the roadside stalls.

Before them, three pirates were walking out from the depths of the dock.

They were completely different from the gatekeepers.

The leader was bald, with a face full of scars, a hideous old scar running from his left eye to his chin, and muscles bulging under his leather armor.

Behind him followed two equally burly men, with sharp eyes, steady steps, and machetes that could not be washed clean of blood hanging from their waists.

These were the true elite of this group of pirates.

Vance lowered his gaze, but his eyes never left the three people.

The bald man paused for a moment as he walked past him.

Vance's heart stopped for a moment.

But the bald man merely glanced at the junk he was "picking up," scoffed, and continued walking forward.

Only after the three figures disappeared into the crowd did Vance finally let out a long breath.

"Let's go," he said in a low voice. "Continue with the plan!"

…………

Deep in the harbor of Frido, there stands a tall, three-story stone building overlooking the sea.

This is the highest point in the entire port, overlooking the entire port of Frido, and it is also a gathering place frequently visited by the core of the Western Pirates.

On the third-floor balcony, three people were sitting around a round table.

Wine and meat were laid out on the table, but no one touched them. Three pairs of eyes, six gazes, were fixed on the same unfolded map.

On the map, the southern coastline is marked with a large red circle.

"Winter isn't over yet, what's the rush?"

The speaker was a man with a neatly trimmed mustache.

He wore a deep red velvet coat with a gold brooch at the collar and three gemstone rings on his fingers. He was adorned with jewels and looked nothing like a pirate, completely out of place in this pirate's den.

But he was sitting in the main seat.

Philip.

He considers himself the master of the Western Frontier and is also the de facto leader of the eastern part of the Western Frontier. He is greedy and cunning, and his eyes are always only on calculating his own interests.

He looked down on the crude brute in front of him, yet he had no choice but to rely on his strength.

Of the five pirate captains, he only respected the old pirate who had been silent for many years, because that man was the only one who could make him feel threatened.

"In a hurry?" The burly man opposite slammed his hand on the table, making his wine glass bounce around. "How long have I been waiting! That idiot Axel is living the high life in the South, why can't I be in a hurry?"

It was Derek.

He was as burly as a bear, with a face full of fleshy muscles, but his eyes gleamed with shrewdness.

Everyone around him understands that his rudeness is just a facade; this guy knows better than anyone when to charge forward and when to retreat.

He had once been hired as a sea mercenary along with Axel from the South, but pirates are ruthless, and he didn't care about that.

What he cares about is that Axel is doing better than him now.

"Alright."

A rare female voice among the pirates interrupted him.

On the other side of the round table sat a woman wearing dark leather armor.

She was around twenty-five years old, with a thin face and some beauty, but her eyes were cold and bloodless.

She wore no jewelry, and only had an ordinary longsword at her waist, but her aura made it clear that she was also one of the pirate leaders...

Timothy.

The only female leader among the Western Pirates, and also the most unpredictable in her actions. Although her fleet is not the largest, it is the strongest in terms of combat power.

She never got involved in the infighting among other pirates, and only did what she thought was right.

Their stronghold is in the north of the West, far from the South and close to the North.

"What's there to fight over in that wretched place in the South?" Timothy said coldly.

She glanced at Derek. "Take it if you want, but I want the North."

Derek grinned but didn't reply.

Philip stroked his mustache gently, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the map.

"We'll make our move as soon as winter is over," he said. "That new earl in the southern border is said to be quite capable."

"But so what? His soldiers can fight on land, but they're a bunch of landlubbers when they get to the sea."

He looked up at the other two.

"Once we take over the southern coast, we can slowly push inwards. Then, the south will be our granary, and with the south, the north and east will be ours..."

"Yours, yours," Derek interrupted him, speaking in a sarcastic tone, "It's yours, Lord Philip."

Philip merely glanced at him without saying a word.

Timothy picked up his glass, took a sip, and gazed at the distant southern sea.

The sea was calm and shimmering.

Beneath the calm surface, undercurrents surge.

…………

Southern border, Bordeaux, Count's Castle.

Vio stood by the window, gazing at the setting sun on the horizon, his fingers gently tapping on the windowpane with a steady rhythm.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

"My lord," Vincent's voice came through, "news has come from Black Pearl that Cohen and his men have successfully entered Freedore Port."

Vio didn't turn around, but spoke.

"Anything else?"

"It is said that three pirate leaders in the western border have been meeting frequently lately. According to scouts, they are likely to... make their move after winter ends."

This happened much earlier than the information provided by Elifis after winter ended.

Vio merely raised the corners of his mouth slightly.

"Pass down the order," he said calmly, "the Navy can begin preparations."

Outside the window, the last ray of sunlight sank into the sea, and night had fallen.

But in the darkness, warships were lighting their lights along the southern coast, awaiting their first voyage.

The storm has arrived, and the sword is aimed at the pirate empire of the West.