Heather grunted in pain from the slap, but her expression remained fearless.

"F*cking hell."

Ambrose completely lost it at the sight, his gaze growing bloodshot as he howled at Ether, "What kind of man are you, striking a helpless woman? Take a swing at me, why don't you? Come on!"

The handprint on Heather's face gnawed at Ambrose's chest. He wanted to rush over, but the countless sand pirates held him back, and he could not do anything.

Ether smirked coldly and chuckled at Ambrose's words.