Lord: I can see loyalty.

On the sea, the wind was calm and the waves were still, with only the sound of seabirds skimming the surface.

A massive fleet is cutting through the waves, advancing majestically towards the southern border.

Black sails billowed in the sea breeze, the ship cleaved through the waves, leaving trails of white wakes.

Sunlight shone on the deck, casting a dense mass of figures on it. These were the most elite pirates of the Western Frontier, wielding scimitars, crossbows, and other weapons, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

Ten warships and ten fast boats.

A total of twenty ships, lined up in three columns, like a group of sharks attracted by blood, rushed toward the southern coastline.

On the largest warship in the center, several veteran pirates were gathered at the bow, gazing at the distant, faintly visible coastline, their faces bearing smiles of certainty.

"Lord Philip has really gone all out this time," a burly old pirate grinned, revealing a few gold teeth. "Seven real warships, five fast ships, and a full four hundred veterans—these are all the elite of our Western Territory."

"More than that," a one-eyed pirate chimed in, his voice hoarse. "Derek's side has also sent three warships and five fast ships, along with three hundred men, making a total of nearly seven hundred. Taking down a village in the southern border will be a piece of cake for them."

"You can't say that," a thin, middle-aged pirate shook his head, his expression becoming more cautious.

"Last time, the Southern Territory wiped out all seven of our ships. Although most of those people were just there to make up the numbers, the fact that not a single one of them survived shows that the young count is indeed quite capable."

"Just a little something?" the gold-toothed pirate laughed. "That's because you haven't met us yet! Every one of us here is a veteran who's been at sea for over five years. Do those landlubbers from the Southern Territory even deserve to be called a navy?"

The pirates nodded in agreement, their faces full of contempt.

Just then, a lazy voice came from behind.

"You're all right, but you're wrong about one thing."

Everyone turned around and saw a young, long-haired pirate sitting with his legs crossed on a deck chair by the cabin door, slowly sipping a glass of wine.

He had a handsome and strong face, and his skin was so fair that it didn't look like someone who lived at sea all year round. A faint, cold smile hung at the corner of his mouth.

The old pirates' expressions changed slightly, but none of them dared to utter a word of rebuttal.

They recognized this man; he was Philip's most trusted lieutenant, nicknamed "White Shark," and was said to have killed more people than the average person had ever seen.

But more importantly, no one knew his background; all they knew was that he appeared out of nowhere and became Philip's right-hand man in just a few years.

"What brilliant ideas do you have, brother?" the gaunt pirate asked tentatively.

The long-haired pirate, White Shark, put down his wine glass, gazed at the distant sea, and spoke with a hint of amusement.

"You think that Philip sent us here just to take over that village of Kessellow?"

The pirates looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Isn't it?" asked the gold-toothed pirate.

White Shark sneered and slowly sat up straight.

"Taking Kessellow Village is certainly necessary, but have you considered what will happen afterward?"

He stood up, walked to the bow of the ship, and stood shoulder to shoulder with the old pirates.

"Kaslow Village is just a granary, like a stepping stone on a ship. Once we've established a foothold and connected the South and West, the rest of the South will be ours for the taking."

"But that old fox Philip's real scheme goes beyond that."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

"Do you know what's following us?"

The pirates' expressions changed slightly.

"There...there's more?"

"Of course." White Shark's lips curled up. "Philip has also sent out the rest of the warships. They're not far behind us. When we start fighting the people of the Southern Territory, regardless of whether we win or lose, our forces can arrive in time."

"If he wins, he can expand his gains; if he loses, he can still gather his remaining troops and occupy Keslow Village, so he won't end up with nothing."

"More importantly..."

He drawled, his eyes growing sharper. "Once news of our capture of Keslow Village gets out, guess what Derek and Timothy will do?"

The gaunt pirate was puzzled: "They're definitely going to join?"

"Of course," White Shark said decisively. "Derek wanted a piece of the pie, but he was still a bit hesitant and didn't send a large number of people."

"As for Timothy, she's always had a strained relationship with the boss and has been observing the situation. But once we win and take over some territory, will she still be able to sit still?"

"At that time, pirates from all over the West will flock here, and the South will become our hunting ground. Philip will be the hunter commanding the hounds, easily gaining control of half of the West and the entire South!"

Several old pirates gasped in shock.

The gold-toothed pirate muttered, "Lord Philip's scheme is far too elaborate..."

"Deep?" White Shark sneered. "No matter how deep the strategy, it still needs to be fought."

We were the ones who captured Kethro Village, and we were the ones fighting tooth and nail against the Southern Reach.

"Philip was just waiting in the wings to reap the rewards."

The crowd fell silent, somewhat surprised by his statement.

White Shark turned around and looked towards the southern border, a glint of something unfathomable flashing in his eyes.

White Shark turned around and looked towards the southern border, a glint of something unfathomable flashing in his eyes.

However, none of this mattered to him. While strategic prowess was certainly important, ...

One's own abilities are what truly command respect. Philip isn't strong individually; even if he controls a lot of territory, who can he truly control? In the end…

He didn't say those words aloud, but the cold smile on his lips said it all.

The old pirates exchanged glances, but none of them said a word.

The fleet continued its journey, getting closer and closer to the southern coastline. The pirates on the lookout tower could already make out the outline of Keslow Village and the dock where warships were moored.

"Sir! Over there—!"

Suddenly, the sentry on the lookout tower cried out in surprise, his voice trembling with disbelief.

The great white shark suddenly raised its head.

"A fleet has been spotted to the right flank of the southern border! There are many, at least ten ships!"

"What?"

Several old pirates rushed to the ship's side, shading their eyes with their hands as they looked in that direction.

Sure enough, dense black shadows appeared on the distant horizon; they were sails, the sails of the Southern Territory.

Not just one or two ships, but an entire fleet, is sailing from the direction of Keslow Village, launching a preemptive attack on them!

"Damn it!" the gold-toothed pirate cursed, "Those landlubbers dare to launch an attack?"

"You're asking for it!" the one-eyed pirate grinned maliciously. "Perfect, saves us the trouble of searching ashore!"

The white shark narrowed its eyes, staring intently at the approaching warships.

Seven ships... ten ships... no, more.

He counted them; there were at least ten warships and seven or eight fast ships, roughly the same number as them.

The ship was brand new, and the deck was full of people. The reflection of their armor could be faintly seen in the sunlight. They were knights and militiamen from the southern border, as well as new sailors.

"Interesting," he said softly, his sneer deepening.

The two sides are getting closer and closer.

500 meters, 400 meters, 300 meters.

On the deck, the pirates picked up their weapons, drew their scimitars, and nocked their crossbows.

A tense atmosphere filled the air as everyone stared intently at the increasingly clear warships opposite them, their eyes filled with a bloodthirsty desire.

They were not like a hastily assembled group of shrimp soldiers and crab generals, but real pirates who had been fighting against nature and enemies on the turbulent sea for many years!

"Prepare for battle!"

An old pirate shouted sternly!

Along the ship's side, rows of crossbowmen raised their crossbows, aiming at the enemy ship opposite. In the center of the deck, groups of pirates wielding scimitars were eager for boarding action.

On the opposite side, the warships from the southern border also began to slow down and adjust their formation.

"Hard to starboard! Prepare the ballistae!"

Several large warships began to move, with fast boats spreading out on both sides, clearly preparing to encircle the enemy.

The white shark stood motionless at the bow of the ship.

He stared at a figure on the largest warship opposite him. It was a young man standing at the bow, with several guards standing behind him.

Although they were far apart and their faces were not clearly visible, their calm and composed demeanor could be felt even from hundreds of meters away.

That's the Earl of the Southern Territory?

For him, all the fancy preparations were unnecessary; all he needed to do was take down that count in the southern border…

"Slow down, maintain formation!" White Shark finally spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears. "Wait until they get close before engaging."

The pirates responded in unison.

The fleet from the south is getting closer.

Two hundred meters, one hundred and fifty meters.

The ballista has reached its firing range!

"put!"

With a command given, both sides launched almost simultaneously.

Boom——!

The crossbow bolts whistled out, slicing through the sea.

Several small fast boats were hit by arrows, but they were all blocked by wooden shields. Wood chips flew everywhere, but some people still screamed and fell into the water.

But many more crossbow bolts missed their mark, creating plumes of water on the sea.

"Speed ​​up! Charge forward! Close the distance and prepare for boarding action!"

The white shark roared.

The pirates rowed with all their might, rapidly increasing the speed of their boat and drastically reducing the distance between them.

One hundred meters, fifty meters.

"Get ready to board!"

On both decks, everyone gripped their weapons, waiting for that moment to arrive.

On the sea, a great battle is about to break out.