It’s just a bug, just kill it.

As the words settled, Duke Gran and Alice fell silent—clearly, even they found the phenomenon suspicious.

“Mr. Black… are you implying this strange occurrence is linked to Jörmungandr?”

Cyril, the Eighth Son of the Round Table Knights, frowned slightly as he asked.

“Exactly. I assume you all already have a guess in mind?”

Black gave a knowing nod, stopping short. He knew they couldn’t possibly be unaware of the legend.

“Yes. I recall a passage from the legend of the Sea Dragon King Jörmungandr—Jörmungandr, the Sovereign of Water, holds the royal authority over the Sea Dragon Clan. Only under his call can the entire Sea Dragon race unite their power.”

Krystin spoke solemnly, each word heavy with weight.

“When he nears awakening, the sea dragons will gather for their king’s rebirth—ushering in a Dragon Feast!”

Alice continued where Krystin left off.

With just a few sentences, they’d pieced together a perfectly logical theory!

The Sea Dragon King Jörmungandr was in the Caribbean Sea—and he was about to awaken!

The royal fleet had little time left.

Seeing that they’d now completed his own argument, Black wisely fell silent.

Truthfully, everything he’d said was made up.

The White Pearl had never been attacked by sea dragons.
They’d never even sailed through the Caribbean Sea!

But the core of his claim? That was real—game lore from the prologue.

Still, he needed a believable excuse.

After all, a nobody pirate suddenly possessing such critical intelligence? That reeked of foul play.

He couldn’t exactly say, I’m a player—I just know!

“So I swear on my life—the seal of the World Serpent Jörmungandr lies in the Caribbean Sea!”

Black blinked earnestly at Elizabeth, face full of sincerity, trying to win over the silent empress.

But Elizabeth didn’t respond to him. Instead, she turned to the woman beside her.

“Lucy.”

“Yes!”

The woman—Lucy—wore a plain white robe and a clean white headscarf, cradling a yellowed book. She exuded scholarly calm.

She stepped forward, opened the book, and tore out a page. Muttering words no one could understand, she held it before Black.

The next moment—the paper burst into flameless fire, burning into a swirl of white smoke!

At the same time, Lucy’s once-black pupils turned pure white, her gaze locking onto Black, unblinking.

Black shrank slightly under her stare. This eerie magic—he’d definitely seen it in the game.

Was this Lie Detection?

“Your Majesty, Mr. Black is not lying.”

Just as I thought!

Black’s eyes widened, stunned by the spell’s power.

In the game, the Sage class possessed a rare ability called Lie Detection.
It could see through deception.
It had played crucial roles in multiple story arcs.

Witnessing it in real life? It shook him deeply.

But Sages were incredibly rare—only a handful could awaken to that class.

Hearing Lucy’s report, Elizabeth’s expression darkened—so sharply that Black nearly jumped.

Wait—didn’t I tell the truth? Why does she look like she wants to behead me?!

Could it be… she’s thinking of The Abyssal Rift?

Black suddenly understood.
If that was the place, no wonder her face had turned so grim.

“Take him back to the Wilton. Make sure he and the pirates are properly accommodated.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath, then ordered Black’s removal before turning back to the sea chart.

“Your Majesty… what troubles you?”

Duke Gran asked, voice dripping with false concern.

“Mother, what’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be happy we’ve found Jörmungandr’s location?”

Alice looked genuinely worried. Despite her usual arrogance, she was a doting daughter to her mother.

Krystin and Cyril also stared at Elizabeth, tense and uneasy.

If this woman—the empire’s most exalted—was troubled, it had to be serious.

“Look here.”

Elizabeth’s slender finger, pale as jade, pointed to a spot in the Caribbean Sea.

The others followed her gaze. On the map, it was a thin line, nearly black—indicating a trench in reality.

“The Abyssal Rift? Is that the name of a trench?”

“But I thought trenches only form in deep-sea zones?”

Krystin sounded incredulous, as if her geography knowledge had just been shattered.

“You’re correct. But this is not a natural trench.”

Elizabeth spoke slowly, her voice heavy with imperial authority.

“Natural trenches form from geological shifts. This one… was man-made.”

“Thousands of years ago, Konrad—the Sage of the Sword—fought Jörmungandr here. With a single, full-powered strike, he severed the dragon’s great horn… and split the entire sea, carving a rift thousands of miles long—what we now call The Abyssal Rift.”

Her tone was calm, almost detached—but the words struck like a boulder into their hearts, sending shockwaves through their souls.

Alice was a swordsman—the prodigy of her generation. Yet she couldn’t fathom how one strike could cleave a trench thousands of miles long.

Only a god could do that!

“There’s another thing you don’t know. Within the Abyssal Rift lies tens of thousands of tons of Jörmungandr’s blood. Even today, traces of dragon blood linger in the seawater.”

“Any dragon creatures near that area will see massive boosts in their abilities.”

Cyril realized it instantly. Even his usual calm shattered.

“So if we fight Jörmungandr and the sea dragons there… the battle will be heavily against us!”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Correct. I considered this possibility before coming. I hoped Jörmungandr wasn’t sealed here.”

“But fate is unkind.”

“What awaits us… will be a grueling battle.”

Her voice was heavy, revealing the storm raging in her heart.

The atmosphere turned oppressive. Only Duke Gran’s expression remained oddly unreadable—everyone else fell silent.

Jörmungandr was already a nightmare.
Now, all the sea dragons would be stronger?
This battle was turning into a suicide mission!

“Doesn’t matter. When soldiers come, we block with generals. When water comes, we dam it. Our ancestors cut him down once—we’ll cut him down again!”

“Order the Dragoncleaver Guard to intensify training. Calibrate all dragon-slaying weapons. Maintain strict order on the fleet—prepare for war!”

“Yes!”

The others saluted and left.

Elizabeth truly was the empire’s empress. With just one sentence, she transformed despair into fiery resolve.

As long as she stood firm, the empire would never fall.

Lucy, her closest aide, understood this well.

The empress’s earlier reaction? Just annoyance at the inconvenience.

“This is troublesome… but if I hadn’t prepared for the worst, I wouldn’t have come myself.”

“Just a sea worm. Cut it down, and it’s done.”

Elizabeth said it lightly. She hated complications—but fear? She hadn’t felt that in a long time.

“Black… a mere pirate knows so much. How… interesting.”

Lucy murmured, surprised. The proud empress—intrigued by a lowly pirate?