Sailing: A Retired Veteran Awakens with Genryusai Template

This Moment

On the heavily damaged escort ship Heavenly Gold:

"Live... survive!"

"Hah~!"

"Hah~!"

Marine Rear Admiral Rot clung tightly to the crumbling main mast of the warship. He felt the terrifying shocks rocking the ship beneath him finally begin to subside.

Breathing heavily, he collapsed to the ground, unaware that cold sweat had already soaked his back. His face was frozen in lingering terror.

Just moments earlier, the massive wave caused by a large Sea King flipping over had nearly capsized them.

I'm going to die!

The thought consumed him as heavy fear surged through his chest.

Rot had witnessed the unforgettable sight of seawater flooding the warship, and for the first time in his life, he truly felt he had walked through the "Gates of Hell."

As a dignified Marine Rear Admiral—albeit one promoted locally in North Blue—he had never imagined he could feel so fragile, so insignificant... as insignificant as an ant.

"That's right... that's right! That noble lord must not come to harm!"

Rot steadied himself, forcing his trembling body to rise.

He turned abruptly, his gaze locking onto the direction of the second floor at the ship's rear deck. That was where an incomparably honorable figure was being sheltered—North Blue's collector of the Heavenly Tribute, someone who commanded respect on a level incomprehensible to most.

Forgetting his pain, Rot ran toward the rear deck, bellowing, "Move! Out of the way! Make way for your Rear Admiral!"

He didn't care who was blocking his path. The safety of the noble figure was all that mattered now.

In normal circumstances, on his own ship, everyone obeyed his commands without question. Those who didn't... well, Rot had ensured years ago that anyone foolish enough to defy him met a watery grave. Entire families of dissenters were "dealt with" under the guise of pirate eradication.

It was for this reason that Rot had earned the unofficial nickname "The Tyrant" across North Blue. Yet far from feeling shame, he wore the moniker as a badge of pride.

But now, in his panic and desperation, Rot failed to notice the figure standing in his way—a figure who was not Marine at all.

Bang!

The impact felt like slamming into an immovable mountain. Rot fell backward, crashing onto the deck.

"You idiot! You bastards! Are you trying to get yourselves killed?!"

His veins bulged as he roared, the fury visible on his reddened face. Without a second thought, Rot drew the short sword at his waist and lunged forward.

At a time like this, when the life of such a noble figure was at stake, anyone obstructing him deserved to die.

The blade gleamed as it struck out.

But there was no scream, no blood spray from some hapless Marine he assumed was in his way.

Instead, something entirely different happened.

A sharp flash of light sliced through the air.

Rot froze, his eyes wide with shock.

In the next instant, he felt a warm spray of blood on his face—and realized it was his own.

His hand, the one gripping the short sword, was severed at the wrist.

"Ahhhhh!!!"

A shriek of agony tore from his throat. Rot crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain as beads of sweat slid down his face.

Standing before him was a figure in a simple white shirt, with a head of gray hair. It was the same "old man" who had singlehandedly blocked the warship earlier.

"You... you old bastard!" Rot screamed, his voice trembling.

But the man, Bai Ye, showed no trace of emotion. If anything, a flicker of disdain crossed his cold eyes.

"As a Marine Rear Admiral, you can't even endure this level of pain?" Bai Ye said, his tone laced with contempt.

Despite his age, Bai Ye's body was honed from decades of service in the Marines. While he had spent many of those years avoiding danger and slacking off, he wasn't unfamiliar with battle or injury.

Even the lowliest Marine soldier knew better than to scream out in pain during combat. Doing so only invited enemies to target the wounded, endangering comrades and ensuring death.

But this so-called Marine Rear Admiral didn't even grasp such a basic principle.

And yet, this same man—a coward without combat experience—had formulated a plan to crush all resistance in North Blue by annihilating entire towns.

It was a clear reminder of how people like Rot viewed the lives of ordinary citizens: utterly disposable.

Rot's screams of pain turned to rage as he shouted, "You... you old bastard! I am a Marine Rear Admiral! How dare you attack me! Guards! Guards! Arrest this damn old man!"

His voice echoed across the chaotic deck, but Bai Ye didn't flinch.

"A Marine Rear Admiral?" Bai Ye muttered. "So what?"

A cold smile curled his lips.

"Even a Marine Vice Admiral wouldn't matter to me."

Bai Ye raised the long knife he had picked up from the deck, ready to deliver the final blow.

But Rot, trembling and bloodied, suddenly began laughing hysterically.

"You fool!" Rot spat, dragging himself upright. "You don't even know what you've done! There's an extremely noble figure on this ship! Someone from the Holy Land!"

"The Holy Land?" Bai Ye echoed, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"That's right!" Rot howled. "That lord is a Celestial Dragon! Do you understand? You've attacked a ship carrying one of the world's nobles! You've declared war on the World Government! You're finished! Finished—!"

Slash!

Rot's words were cut short.

His head flew from his shoulders, blood spraying across the deck.

As his decapitated body crumpled to the ground, his lifeless eyes remained wide open, locked in disbelief.

Even in death, he couldn't comprehend why Bai Ye had acted so decisively, even after learning of the Celestial Dragon's presence.

Bai Ye flicked the blood off his blade and looked down at the severed head with a cold, unshaken gaze.

"Celestial Dragon?" Bai Ye murmured. "So what?"

His voice was calm, devoid of fear or hesitation.

"Don't worry," Bai Ye said, stepping over the body. "You'll meet them in hell soon."