Headed by a Snake

Chapter 883 No Different

?With a heavy heart, Krysaos made his way out of his room and through the main hallway, each trudging step slow and slower still.

Waiting for him above deck... were the hard stares of hardier sailors; snide, passive-aggressive comments... and in at least one case, barely-contained hostility.

If he could, he'd jail or lash or even keelhaul each and every sea-rat on the ship that looked at him funny.

If he really did, though... there'd be maybe three or four people to run the whole ship... including himself.

...That'd be a f*cking pain.

"Ughhhh," Krysaos groaned loudly as he climbed the stairs, stopping in front of the double doors to the main deck.

He clenched his fist until it hurt.

He'd spent enough time feeling sorry for himself... so he began to focus on his anger and discontent.

Once he went out there... he no longer had the privilege of being Krysaos the human f*cking being.

Once he stepped through those doors, he had to put on the mask of Captain Krysaos, the guy with the most leviathan wang on the ship... the guy that'd toss half the crew into a single hotbox without hesitation... the Metal-Rank capable of punching straight through a grown man's chest.

Relaxing his fist, he took a deep breath and rested his hand on his sword hilt.

--his... sword.

He drew it slowly out of its sheath... allowing the blade to ring against the metal lip.

It's-- no...

*Her* name was... the Heart of the Ocean.

...Captain Krysaos of the Neptune's Revenge narrowed his eyes.

There was a hole in his memory. In it... there were probably one or three things he could never get back.

However... whatever magic affecting him couldn't change his heart... and it couldn't hide the feelings he kept deep inside.

He couldn't explain them... but he trusted those feelings more than anything else.

Anger.

Indignation.

Hatred.

A violent, burning need for revenge.

...against... the gods?

Krysaos grit his teeth.

So be it.

He felt his emotions swell... all those things raging inside his heart like the crashing waves of a storm. Water mana surged around him, coalescing into a heavy rain that flooded the lower decks.

Krysaos felt his body tremble and shake.

It was too much mana.

It was... the divine essence of the cultist's Guardian Beast.

The LT said it could kill him if he used it recklessly-- that he'd disintegrate into a burst of light.

He said... out of every ten humans, nine had bodies that couldn't withstand that kind of mana. It was the reason why the strongest human Casters-Classes in the Realm were limited to Third-Circle.

It's just that... Krysaos no longer gave a f*ck.

"?Iron Tail of the Gods-Damned Whitesaber Tuna!!!?"

Krysaos spun around like an absolute, f*cking badass, striking the double doors down with his heel. They flew off their hinges and out, heading straight at the lone, bearded figure standing in front of the main mast.

Just before they hit the cocksucking son of a scrag, the doors exploded into tiny bits and pieces.

Seven... gods-damned... f*cking hells, that guy was strong.

The old, musclebound man stood up straight, completely unaffected.

"Che. Can't f*ckin' believe it..." He groaned, "Can't even be f*ckin' entertaining! ...Useless-arse, f*cking mortal."

Krysaos recognized that voice... the voice of an old sailor, his voice ravaged by drug-smoke.

He recognized that man... wrinkled and bronze-skinned. His grey, sea-weathered beard fell down to the middle of his naked chest, almost but not quite covering rows of rippling abdominal muscles.

He looked like all he did was hoist the sails, sun-in and sun-out...

The bastard also looked like he'd sink like a big, ugly rock.

Krysaos had met the sea god once before-- his filthy, rotten-toothed sneer unchanged even from all those years and moons ago.

That man... was the one and only god of the f*cking sea... and the source of his hatred.

Krysaos smirked.

Waves upon waves of mana continued coursing through his body, triggered by his hate...

"It's you."

"Yeah, yehh," The geezer opened his arms, flexing his pectorals like a common brainless dickwad... "So we meet again-- an' in the flesh. So what? You wanna give it a go, shite-for-brains?"

That guy... despite his words, was the strongest and most dangerous opponent Krysaos had ever faced. If he was a gods-damned waterfall off the tallest mountain in the Realm, then the sea god was the eye of an island-destroying hurricane.

But... that didn't mean he was going to back down.

"POSEIDON!!!!" Krysaos yelled, "I'm gonna f*cking KILL YOU! And then I'm gonna save my F*CKING GIRL!!!"

"Krys-A-ohs..." The sea god grunted... "I thought I told you to stay on f*cking land."

"And to that--" Krysaos grinned, "I said... the next time I saw you... I'd f*cking kill you."

...The sea god narrowed his eyes. He was not pleased.

Good.

The muscular geezer began to circle counterclockwise... each step of his mast-thick legs threatening to break through the deck. A swirl of water mana shot up from behind him, and the sea god grabbed a wicked-looking trident out of it.

The Spear of Poseidon...

...that thing was probably worth a lot of coin.

The sea god smiled... revealing a row of jagged shark-teeth.

"It sounds like the biggest coward in the thirteen sees finally had his balls drop," He croaked... "Good for f*ckin' you, boyo-- but go the f*ck back where you came from and we can forget this ever happened."

Boyo? Oh. F*ck. That.

"Heyyy," Krysaos swapped the Heart of the Ocean to his left hand and extended the middle finger of his right, "F*CK you, Poseidon. You stole my f*cking ship."

"The f*ck?" The sea god stopped circling, furrowing his bushy eyebrows in confusion, "Oh? You mean this piece o' shite?"

"Piece o' shite?!" Krysaos clenched his teeth, his entire body growing hot with indignation... "PIECE O' SHITE?! I remember that f*cking sun! Every gods-damned second of it! You took EVERYTHING from me!!"

"Oh, f*ck you, mortal," The old god groaned. "Do you know how many ships I take every sun?

"Yours, Krysaos... yours was no different."