The deck fell silent, then screamed.
Even Iron Hammer Loff, tyrant of the East Blue, stared in disbelief at the river of blood running across his own ship. His voice cracked.
What was that? What did you do?
Ron did not even lift his chin.
Multiple Wind Blades. A wind spell.
Seems my reputation has not spread yet. After today the name Mage Ron might finally travel on the tide.
A cold chime rang only in his mind.
You achieved Ten Steps One Kill. Achievement points plus one.
Loff ground his teeth.
A pirate hunter. So you came for my head.
Correct.
A single lazy gesture. A pale blue edge cut the air. The gunman who thought he had a chance split from shoulder to hip. Ron never moved his feet. He did not have to. Spirit like a storm front. Perception like lightning. His body did not need to be quick when his mind already saw every twitch before it happened.
That is a mage.
Loff roared and charged, iron hammer howling. Ten meters. Nine. Eight.
Too slow.
A red star bloomed in Ron's palm and flew.
Loff swung down with the force to break a cannon. The fireball burst, turned to a wave of flame that washed over his chest and hair. He staggered. In that single falter three crescent blades slipped through the dying fire and fed on it. The wind caught flame. The flame rode wind.
Loff's pupils shrank.
He spun the hammer in a frenzy, trying to smash the storm itself. Fire and wind exploded around him. The blast shook the mast and sprayed sparks across the deck.
Captain Loff.
The survivors could barely whisper. Fear climbed their throats like ice.
Up on the cabin roof, Nami's eyes were wide. She had watched Ron practice. This was different. This was war. The man who had sunk a patrol ship minutes ago was being swallowed whole.
Blood sprayed out from the collapsing blaze and doused the last tongues of fire. When the smoke thinned, Loff stood revealed. The hammer was shards. The handle snapped. His body looked carved by a hundred razors.
He toppled.
Another chime inside Ron's skull.
You achieved Small Fame. Achievement points plus one.
Small fame? Ron blinked once. That was the reward for felling a pirate worth over ten million. So his bounty had already climbed. Makes sense after wrecking a warship.
A nervous trigger finger twitched at the edge of the deck. Ron did not look. A Wind Blade flicked out. The railing and the shooter fell in two neat pieces.
He turned. Ten or so remained. He walked toward them as if crossing a quiet pier. Two volleys of Multiple Wind Blades and a single Fireball had spent only two thirds of his power. More than enough to erase what was left.
One pirate broke first. He hurled his sword and dived overboard. That was the signal. Panic ripped through the rest. Some hesitated. Hesitation bled. The others leaped into the sea, praying the currents would be kinder than the mage.
The last fool tried to raise a musket. A whisper of blue ended the thought.
Silence again. Only the hiss of cooling planks and the slap of waves against the hull.
The Iron Hammer Pirates were no more.
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