LaughYeAmer
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Chapter 62: A Bad Day To Be Bad
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 11:12:46 +0000 UTC“Hey, Davy.”
“Yeah, Paul?”
“You ever wonder why we are doing this?”
The pirate named Davy hummed as he loaded another artillery shell into the naval cannon.
“Well, that’s a really deep question, Paul,” Davy said. “Is it because of the circumstances of our surroundings that led us to become murderous pirates who kill and enslave innocent people, or is it our inherent evil nature that brought us to this path? If we weren’t born within the corrupted societies of the West, could we have led normal and righteous lives, or would we still end up as criminals? I don’t know, Paul… But it keeps me up at night.”
Davy loaded the artillery shell and fired the cannon, humming in satisfaction when the shell smashed deep into the dwarven industrial complex, no doubt destroying another priceless piece of machinery that might never be built again.
He then turned to Paul, who was staring at him with a strange expression.
“No, you idiot!” Paul exclaimed. “I meant, specifically, why are our ships here, blowing apart the last functioning dwarven shipyard in this part of the Slaver Isles?!”
“Oh.” Davy blinked. “Because our boss told us to?”
“Okay, but why? It’s stupid! It wasn’t like the dwarves hated us or anything. That port is the most advanced repair dock in these waters. It could fix up any warship within a day for half the price anywhere else. The fact that they were neutral to us is a godsend, too; No place else would serve us pirates at the same rates and quality. Even the other pirate lords have an unspoken rule never to attack them. So why are we doing this?!”
“Well, maybe it’s because we wanted to pillage the place? We are pirates, after all. And a dwarven shipyard must have tons of precious loot.”
“Except we are blowing up all the precious loot. We were specifically ordered to bombard the port to flaming ruins. Our bosses clearly don’t even care that we are destroying hundreds of gold worth of valuable tech! Heck, we even blew up the Dreadnought rather than steal it!”
“Maybe we want to kidnap the dwarves? Enslaved dwarven engineers are worth a lot.”
“Again, we are firebombing the port to hell and back. Does it look like we are out to collar them? We will be lucky to find a burnt corpse to sell.”
“You are putting a lot of thought into this for a pirate,” Davy noted as he loaded another shell. “I just like to kill people and blow things up.”
“Says the wannabe philosopher,” Paul rolled his eyes. “We need more ammo. I’m going downstairs to grab more shells.”
“Hey, shouldn’t the other guys below deck have brought it up for us by now? Where are they?”
“Probably taking a piss.”
“What about the guys above deck? I don’t hear them moving around anymore.”
“Probably… taking a piss too?”
“And don’t you think it’s too quiet? Why aren’t the other guns on the ship firing anymore?”
“... Pissing?”
“You think all twenty cosairs on this ship are taking a toilet break at the same time?”
“... We should probably go get our muskets.”
“Yeah, Paul and Davy. You really should.”
That last statement came from neither of the pirates. The two whirled around, only to have a sabre slash their throats. Both went down immediately, clutching their bleeding necks painfully as they died.
Bori flicked the blood off his blade. “Ship’s cleared. Barely any fighters below deck… You?”
“Eh. Only Copper Cores with one or two Bronzes. Sniped them before I even boarded,” Julie called up from above. She looked down from the hatch. “Think the others are having trouble?”
“With these jokers? I doubt it. Eri said his ‘Observation Skill’ told him the pirates' most dangerous Chosens are either deployed to the port or concentrated on the corvette flagship. Our guys should have no problem cleaning up the other schooners.”
There were twelve pirate vessels in total, though judging from the fresh naval graveyard around the port, there must have been way more at the start. Bori had counted at least an equal number of destroyed ships as the ones left remaining, with the former possessing far larger hulls than the latter.
The Throngdravi Shipworks had not gone down without a fight. The toll on the assaulting pirate fleet had been extensive — practically reduced to less than half their original strength.
“Dwarves gave them hell. Must have been more than twenty ships that came with the assault force. Maybe even thirty.” Bori grimaced. “Why the hell would the pirates send such a large fleet to destroy a neutral shipyard? Don’t they have more important targets to pursue?”
“You’re asking me?” Julie shrugged. “I’m not a naval expert. I’m just here to shoot bad guys with my bow. You’ll have to ask Eri. He probably knows.”
Bori exhaled. “With how pissed he is right now, I’m probably better keeping my mouth shut.”
Of the twelve surviving ships, eight of which were graded as ‘Schooners’, the smallest of the six commonly known ship classes in the West. Little better than an oversized warboat, it held few guns and a paltry crew, but was fast and nimble on the water. They usually served as scouting vessels or munition boats for most fleets.
Another three of the twelve pirate ships were ‘Brigantines’, or ‘brigs’ for short. They were the second-smallest of the six warship classes. More formidably armed and crewed, they still retained a respectable speed despite their larger size, taking the role of a fast attack ship used for skirmishing and flanking.
And finally, there was the largest remaining ship in the fleet — a medium-sized Corvette-Class warship; the workhorse of most pirate fleets. Powerful guns, sleek in the water, and durable enough to trade fire with larger vessels without dying in a single volley.
The corvette was serving as the raiding party’s current flagship. However, that likely wasn’t always the case, judging from the wrecks spotted within the water — multiple brigs, corvettes, and even what appeared to be the sunken corpse of a once-mighty Frigate lay scattered around the burning shipyard.
Faced with such opposition and with time not on the expedition’s side, orders were hastily given out. The group had split up, mounting special rebreathers given by Eri before swimming to their assigned targets.
The band of younger Silver-Core Chosens were tasked with boarding the less dangerous schooners — Joarris and Raharim in one team, Dulcina and Alvine in another, and Bori with Julie in the last. Meanwhile, the knights of House Drevaine and Elathion — nine veteran Chosens with Silver or Gold Cores — tackled the role of clearing out the larger brigs, where their greater strength and experience were better utilised.
“One ship down. More to go,” Julie sighed. “C’mon, we should move quickly before the other boats start wising up. I bet the other groups are having more fun.”
Bori grimaced. “Somehow, I doubt ‘fun’ is the right word.”
While the schooners and brigs were being dealt with, that still left the large corvette flagship as a problem. There was also the powerful pirate Chosens running around the port to consider.
Eri and the knight captain, Lauren, had rushed to the port alone, presumably to save whatever was left salvageable. Meanwhile, the mysterious red-headed twins were assigned to tackle the corvette flagship. Apparently, they were given a ‘special assignment’ to fulfil under Eri’s order — something only they could do, as part of his secret ‘contingency plan’.
Bori didn’t know what that assignment was, but he had caught their expression earlier when Eri had taken them aside and hushly explained his plan.
The unsettling grins on their faces sent chills down Bori’s spine. He knew the two held a serious vendetta against pirates and slavers, but whatever Eri had just permitted them to do, it likely wasn’t anything sane or noble.
As for Eri himself…
Bori had never seen the boy — man now, he mentally corrected himself — properly angry before. Sure, Eri often got embarrassed or red-faced from an awkward conversation, but it hardly ever felt like he was actually mad. Even in battle, the little monster always just adopted a cold, unfeeling steel to his gaze — never angry or passionate.
Not this time. This time… There was nothing but hot-blooded murder in his eyes.
Eri was genuinely, wrath-blind, pissed that his precious fleet-killer warship was destroyed.
Bori almost felt sorry for the pirates stalking about the shipyard. They had no idea what was coming for them.
~~~
“Ha! What are two beauties like you doing aboard? You have a death wish? Come here, let me put a collar on you. The pair of you will make some rich perverts very happy— GAHHHH!”
The sneers of the other corsairs on deck quickly turned to horror as they watched their companion liquify into a puddle of bubbling pink ooze.
Deyara hummed as her fingers left her harp bow. “Half each?”
Peythra sighed. “Not enough. There are only a hundred of them. Why don’t you find another boat to play on?”
“Don’t be greedy. This is the only ship with Gold Cores on it,” Deyara complained. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too!”
“I never understand what that means. Why would I just want the cake but not eat it? Humans are strange…”
“Don’t you just stand there, you worthless rats!” the ship captain yelled at his crew. “SHOOT THEM!”
A cacophony of gunfire sounded across the deck as the pirates panically shot their firearms: Flintlock pistols, muskets, even naval shotguns and blunderbuss cannons fired in the twins' direction.
The bullets sank into their flesh, riddling them with holes. Their bodies shuddered and jerked from the countless impacts. Blood sprayed across the decks. Splinter-shards of bones rained everywhere.
By the end of it, their sisters were missing chunks, nearly see-through from where the pirates were standing. The corsairs relaxed by a fraction.
Then, suddenly, one of the twins burst out laughing.
“That’s it? The firearms of the modern age are disappointing,” Deyara tsked. “I remember a time when even the auxillaries of dwarven slave armies carried enough firepower to reduce flesh to ash.”
To the dismay of the ship crew, they watched as mana roiled within the twins and restored them to fullness within seconds. Their Cores, inactive before, now hummed with lethargic rumbles, akin to the growl of a waking dragon.
The pirates recoiled with horror when they felt the enormous pressure of Ruby Cores thrumming within the twins.
One of the pirates dropped his gun. Another nearly threw up, such was the terrifying intensity of the twins’ humming aura. One particularly smart corsair immediately ran for the corvette’s edge, trying to leap off to the relative safety of the waters below.
He barely made it three steps before a thrum of music caught him. The man screamed as his skin was peeled back — revealing muscles, innards, and bones — before he collapsed in on himself. His form contorted wetly until he transformed into a perfect sphere of pinkish flesh, sealed within the inverse layer of his flayed skin.
He was still screaming — his voice muffled and hoarse, coming from within the wet ball of twitching meat.
Deyara hummed. “Perfect execution. But it lacks creativity. Three out of ten.”
“Don’t be such a critic. It’s been a while since I messed around with flesh sculptures,” Peythra grimaced as her own spasming ‘artwork’ rolled around the deck uncontrollably. “At least I didn’t kill him by accident. We need living material if we are to remake this ship as Eri requested. A few more tries, and I should get my sense of artistry back.”
“Plenty of volunteers around to practice. So, who’s next?” Deyara asked the crew. “Don’t worry. We will make you prettier than our last attempt.”
“K-kill them now! Shoot them! SHOOT THEM IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!” the pirate captain screamed.
Another roar of gunfire, though this time, the bullets simply bounced off the sisters’ mana-reinforced skin. They were done fooling around.
“Tell you what. You can take the rest of the crew, but that captain is mine,” Deyara offered. “That should give you enough bodies to play with.”
“You would hoard the best material for yourself? Typical.” Peythra smiled. “But I accept. There is a thing to be said for quantity, even if they reek of inadequacy.”
“Have fun. Just remember not to kill them. Business first before pleasure,” Deyara said offhandedly as she approached the captain. The screams of the corsairs around the deck intensified into explosions of wet gore as Peythra’s music rose in pitch and volume, the beautiful melody remaking sentient meat and bones as her muse demands.
“You… You monsters!” The captain pulled out his sword, hands shaking. “The admiral will return from the dock soon! Mark my words, we will have you clasp in chains and begging for mercy by the end of today!”
“That’s an interesting offer.” Deyara cocked her head, then smiled. “I have one for you as well. Tell me, how do you feel about becoming a chair today?”
Comments
Pibblepunk
"How do you feel about becoming a chair today?" "If you want to sit on my face, all you have to do was ask."
SC
Maybe this incident will give our MC an opportunity to make valuable allies
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