The voice was as cool and clear as moonlight, yet it carried the mysterious rhythm of the Deep Sea, causing everyone to involuntarily freeze.

Following the sound, they saw a brown-haired youth who had, at some point, appeared at the ship’s bow.

His long fingers gently caressed a Harp, and from his slightly parted lips flowed a melody that pierced the soul.

As the song rose and fell, the school of sharks beneath the waves gradually slowed their pace. Even the murderous intent in the eyes of the ferocious Shahua Fishmen began to fade, replaced by a cunning look.

But when their gazes fell upon the corpses of their comrades on the deck, that cunning look instantly froze, turning into terror.

The Fishmen scraped wet, greasy trails across the deck with their webbed claws as they instinctively backed away.

But this terror was fleeting, replaced in an instant by a pure, unadulterated lust for slaughter.

Just as the Fishmen tightened their grip on their weapons, ready to strike again, the churning sea in the distance gradually calmed.

Apart from the black-robed figure standing on a piece of shattered wood, only a swathe of crimson remained on the water’s surface.

The giant tentacle that had been churning the waters just moments before had vanished without a trace.

This seemed to be a signal to retreat.

The Fishmen let out shrill shrieks and retreated en masse to the edge of the gunwale.

With a series of splashes, the dozens of Fishmen on the deck and around the hull all vanished into the Deep Sea in an instant.

"Is it over?"

Roland scanned his surroundings. After confirming the danger had passed, he let out a long sigh and slowly sheathed his Secret Silver Longsword.

Although he hadn’t been injured in the recent battle, it had been anything but easy.

With his current strength, even though these Fishmen were, for some unknown reason, far stronger than ordinary Demons, none of them would be his match in a one-on-one fight.

However, their numbers were simply too great.

He had slain nearly several dozen of them with his own hands.

Although his Attributes had long since surpassed the limits of a mortal, his stamina was not infinite.

Cutting down so many powerful Fishmen in succession still left him feeling a trace of fatigue.

If this had been on flat ground, without the help of Lor and the Guards, he probably would have had to rely on his mount’s Charge or activate [Fermented Battle Intent] just to cut a bloody path out of the encirclement of these fearless Fishmen.

’My strength is still not enough...’

He sighed inwardly, his thoughts drifting to the battle at Wuxi Town.

Beckham had slain over three hundred Demons with a single strike.

’Right now, my Attributes are far beyond a normal person’s, but aside from [Flaming Arrow], I lack any wide-area attacks.’

’And even with [Flaming Arrow]... unless I use it at full power without regard for the Spiritual Power consumption, it would be difficult to annihilate a large group of Demons instantly...’

Just as Roland was reviewing the recent battle in his mind, a cheer suddenly erupted by his ear.

The surviving Guards raised their weapons and let out a heaven-shaking roar of celebration.

"Mr. Roland!"

Lor approached, dragging his injured arm, his face filled with reverence.

"Thanks to you, if it weren’t for..."

"That’s enough, Lor."

Roland clapped the burly Guard on the shoulder and smiled.

"The first thing you should be doing right now is bandaging your wound, and..."

He pointed to the corpses scattered across the deck.

"Cleaning up the battlefield, not standing here complimenting me, right?"

"I’m not complimenting you, it’s just..."

The inarticulate Lor fumbled for an explanation, finally managing to squeeze out a single sentence.

"Your strength... is truly immense..."

After saying this, he turned and called for the soldiers to start clearing the deck.

With the crisis averted, the passengers inside the cabins also breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Although no one dared to step out onto the deck, waves of cheers could still be heard coming from within the ship.

Just as everyone was basking in the joy of survival, the brown-haired youth slowly walked up to Roland.

He paid no mind to the Fishman corpses and mottled bloodstains covering the ground, merely offering an elegant bow.

"Praise be to the fearless hero! I am Galvis. And might I ask your name, good sir?"

’An Elf? No...’

Roland noted the youth’s ears—slightly more pointed than a human’s, but not as long and slender as an Elf’s—and mused to himself.

During his stay in Distant Harbor in the River Domain, he had seen a few Elves from a distance.

They were all just like the Elves he had seen on deck when he first boarded the ship: exquisite features, long pointed ears, an innate air of nobility, and a manner of speech that was always polite yet distant.

But this brown-haired youth before him was different.

Although his ears were pointed, they retained a rounded curve, and while his face was handsome, it lacked the soul-stirring delicacy of an Elf.

And for some reason, this young man gave off a frivolous air, lacking the steadiness one would expect from a normal person.

Recalling the strange rhythm from before, Roland raised an eyebrow slightly and returned the bow.

"Roland. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Galvis."

"Oh! Mr. Roland!"

Galvis leaned back dramatically, like a stage actor, and declared in a flamboyant tone.

"Your Swordsmanship is breathtaking, but what’s even more deadly is the Shadow cast by your eyelashes... it has pierced my heart! It has left a wound upon it that will never heal!"

As he spoke, his long fingers plucked the strings, and the Harp immediately produced a fitting melody, as if to accompany his declaration.

"Excuse me, Mr. Galvis..."

A muscle in Roland’s brow twitched uncontrollably.

"Do you... always speak like this?"

"Of course!"

The brown-haired youth nodded excitedly and suddenly leaned closer to Roland.

"To tell you the truth, after witnessing your heroic figure in battle just now, I was inspired to compose a marvelous piece of music for you. Would you care to listen to it now?"

Roland was at a loss for words.

This kind of overly enthusiastic and flowery conversation made him feel uncomfortable all over.

"Ahem..."

So, after a light cough, he decisively changed the subject.

"Mr. Galvis, was it... your music that pacified those rampaging Fishmen and the school of sharks?"

"Precisely."

Galvis gave an elegant nod, his voice as melodious as a harp string.

"Mr. Roland, music is the greatest creation in this world, the most beautiful bridge of communication between living things. Even those Demons and beasts that know nothing of humanity cannot escape its influence!"

After this speech, he paid no mind to Roland’s increasingly strange expression and bowed once more.

"Allow me to formally introduce myself, my dear Mr. Roland."

He lifted his head and stared at Roland with a burning gaze, his eyes like those of someone admiring a rare, uncut gem.

"I am an Apprentice Minstrel, currently traveling the world in search of heroic Legends worthy of song, and you..."

The Harp’s music suddenly swelled, and Galvis’s eyes glittered with excitement.

"Are the very protagonist I have long been searching for!"

"Minstrel?"

Roland automatically filtered out Galvis’s effusive praise, keenly latching onto this key word.

In that instant, memories from his past life flooded his mind like a tidal wave.

In those Western fantasy stories and games, this Profession was always an indispensable part of the world.

And in this world, it wasn’t his first encounter with a Minstrel.

Previously, in a village in Black Water Territory, a few wandering poets had made a brief stop.

But in his experience, those people were no different from street performers, just relying on a few little tricks to get by.

Aside from being silver-tongued, they were no different from ordinary people.

However, the song Galvis had just performed completely overturned this impression.

’It seems that in this world, a Minstrel... might also be an Extraordinary Professional?’

Just as Roland was about to ask another question, a muffled thud sounded by his ear.

THUD!

The black-robed figure who had been on the distant sea surface just moments ago had now suddenly appeared on the deck.