Ceres had completely forgotten that there were other sailors that hadn't joined the contest by this point. She was just focused on 'the right to keep' her title of bar demon. As to her, if she couldn't beat someone like him she didn't have the right to that title either. Octavius tried to keep on fighting, and quite a fight he gave. But at his 20th mug things went wrong. Ceres had barely realized what was happening before the man was already falling over the edge of the ship. Though unluckily for him, she was still able to remain on her feet. Had she drank one or two more such tasks would have probably become impossible for her. She stumbled towards the edge, first getting a hold of the edge before grabbing the rope that by some miracle was holding on to her captain for the time being. It was as if fate itself wanted to keep the two of them together or something. First she managed to evade a water spout with a 50/50 chance of success. And now by what could only be called the luck of the gods themselves, the ship had prevented Octavius from a watery grave.

Strength wasn't the issue right now. While she wouldn't beat your average proper pirate in arm wrestling, she was at least strong enough to hoist one man back on board. The problem was keeping her balance while doing so. "Nnnish time ya...ya piked fer a sshim, cap!" She yelled, wondering if he could still hear her. She started pulling on the rope as hard as she could, though by trying to shift her weight she was thrown off balance. Her feet slipped away from over her, slamming her body against the ship's side. "I'm ta...ta fecn drank fer diz!" She growled, getting her bearings for a moment before trying again. This time she had more success, slowly pulling the man up to the deck again. Then finally she could grab his leg, and pull him on board again.

Ceres was completely drained now, having used whatever energy she had left to save her new captain's life. So as soon as he was safely on board, she fell back onto the deck and passed out as well. She wasn't sure if this man had entirely lost his wits from his golden years, or if he had always been this 'chaotic'. But she hadn't exactly been bored while with him, so there was that at least. The other sailors were smart enough to not to anything to them, even if they looked helpless. It was best not incur the wrath of the shotgun preacher, or the woman that could keep up with him and talked to him like he was no better than her, for that matter.