[Vanguard (Customizable)]
Type: Military-grade, sail-less, magic-powered warship!
Class: Tier 1 Warship
Weapon Systems: Arcane Ballistae, Tidepiercer Missiles...
Damage Type: Magical, Physical
Troop Capacity: 1,000
Main Cannon Damage: 112–131
Magic Energy Storage: 100%
Secondary Cannons: 64
Secondary Cannon Damage: 44–66
Hull Integrity (HP): 7,000
"Damn, now that’s a real sea beast. This thing’s built for naval warfare—an absolute AoE monster!"
Looking over the entire Vanguard, the most impressive part had to be those four main cannons. Each one packed the punch of a Legendary Unit. And with sixty-four secondary cannons dealing damage on par with Tier 9 or even Tier 10 troops, the whole ship was basically a floating fortress of destruction.
But it wasn’t perfect.
Its biggest weakness? The hull was way too fragile.
If enemies managed to board her and force close-quarters combat,
she probably wouldn’t last long.
That thought got Ethan thinking—what would a Tier 2 warship be like? Or even something higher? The possibilities were starting to excite him.
In the naval hierarchy,
Tier 1 and Tier 2 vessels were considered "warships,"
while anything Tier 3 and above was classified as a "naval battleship."
Even in a maritime superpower like the Greenwave Empire, Tier 3 battleships were considered strategic assets—practically national treasures. Unless you had some serious political clout, you could forget about ever getting your hands on one.
And in the Unicorn Duchy?
The Duchy was a landlocked kingdom with barely any naval presence. Their sea power was laughable. They didn’t have a single battleship, and even Tier 2 warships? Only three in total.
You could count them on one hand.
Hell, it was downright pitiful.
"I wonder what tier of warship it’d take to go toe-to-toe with a Mythic Unit... Probably nothing short of a Tier 3 battleship, right?"
Ethan’s eyes gleamed as he thought aloud, then turned toward Marquis Lucan. "Marquis Lucan, I’ll take this one. Thanks—I mean it. You’ve really helped me out here..."
But before he could finish his sentence,
Ethan suddenly froze.
snapping toward the distant horizon.
A deep, thunderous roar rolled across the waves,
growing louder by the second.
The ocean itself was roaring, shaking the air with deafening force.
At the same time, monstrous waves began to rise across the sea—towering walls of water howling as they surged forward!
And within those crashing waves, an army of grotesque, vicious sea creatures burst forth—Tidesworn units like Abyssal Shark Guards, Shark Guards, Kappa, Kappa Shoya... They swarmed across the ocean in a massive tide, so dense and endless it was impossible to see where they ended.
It was like the sea itself had come alive with rage.
And leading this apocalyptic scene was a massive, dark-gold warship—like some ancient leviathan forged for war. Behind it, seven Tier 1 warships followed in tight formation, cutting through the waves like blades, charging straight toward them.
"What the hell is that? Is that a Tier 2 warship?"
Ethan’s eyes locked onto the dark-gold behemoth. It looked like a sea monster in ship form—far more powerful and imposing than the Tier 1 vessel he was standing on.
Right then, beside him, Marquis Lucan’s face had gone pale. His expression twisted with dread as he gave a stiff nod.
"Yes... That’s a Tier 2 warship."
As soon as he said it, Lucan turned to the angelic figure beside him and shouted toward Ethan, panic rising in his voice.
"Count Valkarion, we have to go—now! That ship belongs to Pirate King Draven! If we stay here, we’re dead. We need to move!"
"Pirate King? What’s that?" Ethan asked calmly, unfazed.
Lucan didn’t waste time. "The sea’s vast and full of danger. No one can control all of it. In the chaos, pirates and raiders thrive."
"Some are small-time scum. But others—those called Pirate Kings—are terrifying. Their fleets and forces rival entire nations."
He continued, voice grim. "In the coastal waters near the Unicorn Duchy, there are three recognized Pirate Kings. They rule their own territories, plundering trade routes, extorting protection money, and waging war on anyone who crosses them."
"And the one leading that fleet out there?" Lucan’s tone dropped, cold and sharp. "That’s Draven. Pirate King Draven."
He narrowed his eyes at the approaching armada, his voice laced with venom.
"He and I... we go way back. He’s killed a lot of my men. I’ve killed a lot of his. We’ve been at each other’s throats for years. Calling it a blood feud wouldn’t even begin to cover it."
A deadly glint flashed in Lucan’s eyes as he stared at the incoming pirate fleet.
Then—whoosh!—he leapt onto the back of his Tier 13 Legendary Unit, the angel, and turned to Ethan, urging him again.
"Count Valkarion, we have to go! Now! We won’t make it if we wait any longer!"
"Go?" Ethan glanced up at the sky, then shook his head. "It’s too late."
"Too late? What do you mean—" Lucan froze mid-sentence.
Then, as if sensing something, his pupils suddenly shrank.
His head snapped upward, eyes locking onto the sky above.
And then his face darkened, jaw clenched tight as he growled through gritted teeth:
"Inferno Devils...?!"
"And a Tier 14 Inferno Arch Devil?!"
"Damn it! He’s joined the Inferno faction... He’s sold himself to those hellspawn!"
Then deceive, confuse, seduce...
And finally, pull the strings from the shadows.
That’s the Inferno Devil’s signature playbook whenever they go to war.
If you look back through the vast history of the Glory Lords X world, you’ll see it time and time again.
Even some of the biggest names out there—
They all got swept up by the overwhelming power of the Inferno faction, and by the sweet-talking, silver-tongued lies of the Inferno Devil. They got lost in the beautiful illusions those devils spun so masterfully.
They all thought they could outsmart the devil, that they could strike a deal and walk away with unimaginable gains...
But the ending? Brutal.
With only a handful of exceptions, everyone else ended up completely screwed.
And honestly, everyone knows this.
The Inferno Devil is also known as the Weaver of Lies—Glory Lords X’s most deceptive con artist.
They’re not trustworthy. Not even a little.
And let’s be real: every single word out of their mouth could be a lie.
They’re masters of mixing truth with fiction, fiction with truth.
They know exactly how to manipulate people.
They don’t just lie—they excel at it. It’s second nature. Like breathing. Like art. Their deception is damn near supernatural.
But the world’s never short on dreamers.
People who think they’re the exception. That they’re the chosen one. That they’ll be the one to cut through the thorns, break through the siege, and turn the impossible into victory. That they’ll be the last one standing, laughing at the end.
And now, Pirate King Draven—
He’s walking that same path.
Maybe he’s about to become just another name on that long list of fools who thought they could outplay the devil.
Suddenly, the air twisted and warped—Inferno Devils, Legendary Units at Tier 13, began stepping out of the rift one after another.
Each one radiated terrifying power.
By the time the seventh one appeared, Marquis Lucan’s face had gone completely pale.
He looked like he’d just seen death itself.
Because floating in the sky now were not one, not two, but seven Tier 13 Inferno Devils.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it.
Two more figures emerged—Inferno Arch Devils. Tier 14. Mythic Units.
And below them, stretching across the entire sea, was a massive pirate armada—an endless swarm of Tidesworn units, packed so tight they looked like a living tide.
This wasn’t a battle.
This was a meteor slamming into the Earth.
"We’re screwed. This is it... we’re dead..."
Marquis Lucan’s face was a mask of despair.
It wasn’t death itself that terrified him—he could handle that. What really made his heart ache was what came after: the level drop, the loss of his warship, the decimation of his units. That was the real pain.
"It’s not that dramatic,"
Ethan said calmly, shaking his head. His expression was steady, almost casual. "You helped me once, Lucan. I’ll return the favor. Just sit back and watch—I’ll handle this."
"You’ll handle it? You? Hah! Don’t make me laugh, you arrogant little punk! Who the hell do you think you are?!"
A mocking voice rang out from the distance—cold, sharp, and laced with scorn.
It echoed from every direction, like the sea itself was laughing. At first, it was faint, almost like a whisper on the wind. But it grew louder. And louder. Until it roared across the ocean, stirring up massive waves that crashed and churned like a storm was coming.
A series of thunderous explosions followed, like mountains splitting open or the sea itself being torn apart.
Then, slicing through the waves like a leviathan, a massive dark-gold warship surged forward—an absolute beast of a vessel. It didn’t slow until it was about a thousand feet from The Vanguard, cutting its magical propulsion and coasting the rest of the way.
But even without power, its momentum was monstrous.
By the time it finally came to a full stop, it was only a hundred feet away from The Vanguard—and from Marquis Lucan and Ethan.
At the prow of the dark-gold warship stood a lone figure, arms crossed behind his back, radiating arrogance. His gaze was sharp, mocking, and full of disdain as he looked down on them like they were nothing.
Behind him stood two unit heroes, lined up with military precision, exuding raw power.
Both were Rare-tier heroes, clad in blue.
One of them—a hulking Ogre hero—was already level 43 or 44. Nearly maxed out.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it.
Behind the Tier 2 dark-gold warship, the sea was absolutely swarming with Tidesworn naval forces. Thousands upon thousands of units, packed so tightly they looked like a living tide of steel and scale.
It was endless. A wall of death.
And on the deck of that monstrous warship, Ethan spotted something even more terrifying—twenty, maybe thirty Naga warriors, their serpentine bodies coiled upright, twin blades gleaming in their hands.
These were Royal Units. Tier 11.
Elite warriors of the Tidesworn faction, they hailed from the Abyssal Ocean Naga—one of the largest and most fearsome Naga clans in the sea.
Their dark, scaled skin shimmered under the sun, and their faces were more serpent than human—cold, alien, and deadly.
Some of them, the rarest of their kind, were born with four arms.
These four-armed Abyssal Nagas were trained from birth in a devastating combat technique known as the Tidefall Quartet—a brutal, fluid, and overwhelming sword style designed specifically for their unique physiology.
It was a technique so powerful, so refined, that those who mastered it were honored with the title of Sword Saint.
Tier 12 Royal Units of the Tidesworn faction—
And Ethan counted nearly ten of them on that ship.
Just the way those Tier 11 and Tier 12 Royal Units were lined up—so many of them, standing there like a wall of elite death—that alone was enough to show just how deep Pirate King Draven’s power ran.
This guy wasn’t just strong.
But what really caught Ethan off guard—what he hadn’t expected at all—was something he didn’t even see with his eyes.
From that massive, dark-gold Tier 2 warship, there was a pressure in the air. A pulse of power. Subtle, but unmistakable.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face.
"Wait... these pirates have Legendary Units too?"
That was rare. Really rare.
Normally, outside of the major superpowers, Tier 13 Legendary Units were considered strategic-level assets—nuclear options, basically. Game-changers.
It didn’t matter how a faction got them—whether they recruited them, bought them, summoned them, or stole them.
What mattered was that they had them.
And if a force had even one Legendary Unit in its ranks, that said something. It meant they weren’t just some backwater rabble. They had real weight. Real teeth.
Not just some puffed-up nobodies playing pirate.
So yeah, it made sense now—why this so-called Pirate King had been able to wreak so much havoc across the seas. Why even a noble of the Unicorn Duchy—a Marquis, no less—was sweating bullets just hearing his name.
Draven wasn’t just a loudmouth with a fleet.
He had the firepower to back it up.
"Cicero," Ethan said, speaking into the system space, "can you identify exactly what kind of Legendary Units are on that ship?"
"Yes, I can," Cicero replied with a nod. "If I’m not mistaken, Master, they’re Tidesworn Legendary Units—Kirin."