They didn’t waste any time. Tied his hands behind his back and started searching the ship. Well—searching was generous. Looting was the word.

But that didn’t bother him. He had nothing worth taking. All he had was meat from the sea serpent and octopus limbs, and most of these guys didn’t look like they needed food anyway.

’Go ahead. Take the tentacle jerky. See if I care.’

As they rummaged through his ship, the kid with the scar grabbed Shiro by back of the collar and dragged him toward their ship. A boot to the back sent him stumbling forward—face meeting the ground like old friends.

A hand grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up to eye level.

Shiro grinned, blood on his lips. "You also smell like a demigod."

The man threw him to the side.

"That hurt," Shiro muttered from the floor. ’Mentally noting that one down.’

The man loomed over him. Half naked, built wider than a doorframe, with arms that looked like they’d been carved out of something that used to be alive. His beard was so thick it could’ve housed a family of birds. Short hair on top, long chaos everywhere else. His shoulders were clean and broad, every muscle stacked on top of the last like his body had never heard the word "enough."

Handsome? Hard to tell under all that hair. But the women standing around him were beautiful enough to suggest the answer was yes.

’Either he’s good-looking under there, or he’s got one hell of a personality.’

Shiro pushed himself up, met the man’s eyes, then swept his gaze across every face surrounding him. Not a single friendly expression in the crowd.

He smiled.

"So all of you are demigods."

He laughed softly, the sound hollow even to his own ears, feeling like a complete fool.

’Damn you, Hera.’

"Where are the others?" the man asked, sounding more upset about the lack of valuables than anything else.

Shiro sighed, frustrated with everything so far. "We were alone on the ship."

The man gripped Shiro’s face with one massive hand—fingers digging into his cheeks—and pulled him close. He stared, long, searching, like he was deciding between believing him or throwing him overboard.

Then dropped him.

"Bring the ship over. We’ll strip this pile of junk for parts," the hairy man barked over his shoulder.

Shiro sat up, rolling his jaw. "Take the ship. Whatever." He met the man’s eyes. "Just let me and the two kids go and we won’t have any issues."

The scar-lipped bastard handed Selene and Aurora to the man. Their eyes went watery instantly—bottom lips trembling, faces crumpling—then they screamed their lungs out.

"Shut up," the scarred one snapped.

Shiro’s expression darkened. "That’s twice, you vermin."

"Hand over all the artifacts," the bearded man said, brushing off the threat like dust from his shoulder.

And he did. Without any hesitation. Both the sword and the spear. Gone.

The man scanned them as they were brought forward, turning them over in his massive hands. "How does a child like you have such strong—" He stopped. The question died in his mouth like he’d already figured out the answer.

Shiro looked at him. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

"Now give me back my children."

Everyone burst out laughing.

The scar-lipped bastard grinned—the cut across his lip stretching wide, making something ugly even uglier.

"They’ll be sold like the other demigods!" one shouted from behind, still laughing.

"They’re kids," the scarred one added, smile widening. "So the price is much higher." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

He sighed. Calming his anger before he sent this entire ship to the bottom of the ocean.

"I don’t know you," he said, his eyes never leaving the bearded man. "And you don’t know me." His voice was calm. Conversational, even. The kind of calm that made smart people rethink their choices. "But if a single strand of hair falls from their heads—I will kill every last one of you. And I won’t lose sleep over it."

The silence that followed was heavy enough to bruise.

"So here’s some advice." He tilted his head slightly. "Don’t dip your toe into a lake you know nothing about. There’s always a chance something at the bottom is hungrier than you."

"Take him away," the scarred bastard shouted.

They dragged him. His eyes never left the bearded man—and the man noticed. So he did what any coward with an audience would do. He reached over and pulled at the twins’ hair right before they blindfolded him.

Shiro laughed. Unhinged. The kind that would make anyone’s skin crawl.

"You all have a death wish, huh?" His grin widened beneath the blindfold. "Fine. I’ll make it come true."

They dragged him down the stairs to the lower level of the ship—his back hitting every step on the way down.

’Classy.’

They came to a stop. A door creaked open. Before he could orient himself, they threw him in and the door slammed shut behind him.

He struggled, trying to break free. They’d swapped the rope for some kind of metal—cold, tight, humming faintly against his wrists. He pulled. It didn’t give. He pulled harder. It got tighter. The more he fought it, the weaker he felt—like something was drinking from him with every attempt.

"You can’t break those." A voice from somewhere in the dark. "Struggling only makes it drain your mana."

"Is that so?"

He stood up. Hands tied behind his back. Legs bound too.

He couldn’t reach the Ebony Knight. Couldn’t reach Ari either. Whatever this metal was, it wasn’t just binding his body—it was cutting him off.

"So you’re all demigods too," he said.

"Yeah," one said softly. Defeated.

"Is anyone here named Jason?"

Silence. Then—"Me." The same voice from before. The one who’d warned him about the cuffs.

He leaned his head back against the wall. The wood was cold. Damp. The ship groaned around him like it was tired of carrying the weight of everyone inside it.

Out of habit, he reached for the knight again. Hoping for a different result.

Nothing.

Just silence.

He closed his eyes for moments.

’I’ll get them back. All of it. Every last thing they took, and more.’