Amidst the clash of blades and claws, Blackbeard's three officers gradually gained the upper hand in the battle.
Vogg, Neslow, and Mark Neckthick were, after all, seasoned pirates from the same crew. With just a bit of coordination, taking down a dragon of this size wasn’t particularly difficult for them.
Of course, this outcome was well within Feng Bujue’s expectations.
The Delusion Dragon was strong, but it was still just a "monster," while Blackbeard’s subordinates were high-intelligence NPCs—in the main universe, the former was equivalent to an "animal," while the latter was akin to "humans."
No matter how intelligent an animal might be, it could hardly compare to even the dullest human. This was a qualitative gap in biological hierarchy.
Humans could learn knowledge, wield tools, employ strategies, and systematically train their physical and combat skills. Animals, on the other hand… achieving even one of these feats was rare.
Before long, the three pirates whittled down the Delusion Dragon using attrition tactics. The beast let out a resentful wail as it collapsed—dying at the hands of three weaker creatures was a bitter pill to swallow.
Fortunately… Mark Neckthick swiftly ended its misery with a clean chop to the neck, severing both its life and its frustration.
"Hmm… took longer than expected," Feng Bujue remarked casually as he strolled forward after the battle ended.
"If you wanted it done faster, you could’ve helped," Vogg retorted bluntly, unfazed by the fact that he was talking to Feng Bujue.
"Heh… I would’ve loved to," Feng Bujue replied with a half-smile, then gestured to Mad-Eye beside him. "But someone had to keep an eye on Captain Mad-Eye, right?"
"Wasn’t his power already restricted…?" Snow muttered under his breath, walking over with Blackbeard.
Faced with this undermining comment, Feng Bujue remained unperturbed—after all, he had thick skin.
"Exactly, his power *was* restricted. But yours wasn’t, was it?" Feng Bujue deftly twisted the narrative and turned the tables. "Why didn’t *you* step in?"
"Alright, alright… I’ll shut up, okay?" Snow, being no fool, knew that arguing with Feng Bujue was a losing battle. He chose to surrender outright and drop the subject.
"Now that the fight’s over, stop wasting time," Blackbeard interjected, taking charge. "Neckthick, check if your brother’s dead. If not, tell him to get up."
"Uh… aye," Mark Neckthick acknowledged, quickly moving to where Mark Hoof lay.
In truth, Neckthick had known his brother wasn’t dead—the two shared a strange bond, and if one died, the other would sense it.
Sure enough, after a few shakes, Hoof groggily woke up.
"What? Time to eat?" Hoof’s first words upon opening his eyes were predictably food-related.
"If you’re hungry, there’s a whole dragon right there," Neckthick replied matter-of-factly.
"Eat my ass!" Vogg snapped at the two idiots. "Delusion Dragons are classic 'corrosive creatures'—one of the most thoroughly corrupted low-tier dragons. The reason they’re smaller than other dragons is that they barely have any meat. Their massive skeletons and thick hides are lined with only a thin layer of fat, and even *that*—along with their organs and blood—is toxic."
"I see…" While Vogg was explaining, Feng Bujue had already pulled out [Bell’s Everyday Knife] and begun dissecting the dragon’s abdomen for observation. "Severe corruption results in immense strength and a vicious temperament but strips away the intelligence and magical abilities typical of dragons… Even basic abilities like 'fire breath' are lost due to physical mutation."
"Hey, hey… you’re not thinking of carving off a piece for a snack, are you?" Honghu’s sharp mind led him to a rather unsettling hypothesis.
"Heh… of course not. Just curious," Feng Bujue replied, standing up with a smile.
The man’s words and actions were a mix of truth and deception, and even his teammates Honghu and Snow couldn’t decipher what he was truly thinking.
"Hoof, how’s your injury?" Meanwhile, Blackbeard ignored Feng Bujue and walked over to his subordinate.
"Uh… just got the wind knocked out of me when I blocked that tail strike. I’m fine now." As he spoke, Mark Hoof stood up; his demi-human bloodline granted him natural regeneration, and injuries like this healed quickly.
"Good. Then let’s move on," Blackbeard said, glancing at Mad-Eye.
"Hmph…" Mad-Eye met his gaze with a cold snort before leisurely stepping forward. "Got it. I’ll lead the way again, huh?"
"Mad-Eye." In that instant, Blackbeard’s tone turned icy. "Don’t think you’re fooling anyone… There won’t be a next time."
Mad-Eye’s smirk froze. After a brief hesitation, a flicker of unease passed through his eyes.
Then, his expression hardened, and without another word, he silently took the lead.
*Heh…* Feng Bujue observed their exchange with quiet amusement.
Under this newly tense atmosphere, the nine resumed their journey.
The figures tailing them through the woods hadn’t given up either, still following from a distance.
…………
Twenty uneventful, suffocatingly quiet minutes later.
Finally, they emerged from the dense forest into an open area.
If the events on this island were likened to a jigsaw puzzle, what now lay before them revealed at least one corner of the bigger picture.
"This… is an altar, right?" Honghu stared at the small, stepped hexagonal pyramid before them, stating the obvious.
"Mhm… the traces in the woods must’ve been left when they transported construction materials," Snow mused. "So the question is… who is this altar dedicated to?"
"Definitely not the two founders of the Phantom Demonic Cult," Feng Bujue interjected, the most qualified to speak on the matter. "Samodeer and Taliom never used this ancient, orthodox religious method—often tied to tribes, nations, or races, with semi-political undertones and relatively public doctrines—to gather faith. They operated as a 'secret society.'"
"Hold on…" Honghu turned to Feng Bujue. "At this point, can you still be sure the enemies around us are from the Phantom Demonic Cult? I might not know as much as you, but even I can tell their behavior is completely different from any cultists I’ve encountered before."
"That, I’ve noticed too," Feng Bujue admitted. "What I *can* confirm is that these people, at the very least, *were* Phantom Demonic Cult sorcerers. The demonic energy in them is like a fingerprint—it can’t be faked. But… I’m not entirely sure why the group on this island is acting so strangely…"
"Hmph… it’s no surprise you don’t know," Blackbeard suddenly spoke up again. "After all… you’re just an otherworldly traveler. Your knowledge has limits." As he spoke, he stepped forward alone, approaching the altar.
*Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—*
The moment Blackbeard stepped within ten meters of the altar, small defensive magic arrays activated. Beams of magical light streaked toward him.
"Even I… haven’t seen this in a long time…" Blackbeard’s tone remained calm, his steps steady. The energy unconsciously radiating from his body effortlessly nullified the attacks.
"You know what that is?" Feng Bujue seized the moment to ask.
"This is… an altar to the God of Wisdom, Weston." Blackbeard didn’t turn around as he answered. "Mad-Eye…" He paused briefly. "You remember too, don’t you? That treacherous bastard who killed the 'Queen.'"