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Salt and Blood - Chapter 147
🕑 Added 2025-04-04 12:39:53 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 146 | Table of Contents | Chapter 148 >>
2.53 - Blood and Steel
Twisted perversions make a person unpredictable. I’d rather face Saltbeard himself than a weirdo with unknown intentions
-Overheard from two gossiping pirates in Clissolt Harbour
Even though she could afford a few flesh wounds in order to defeat the crazy rear admiral, Rose had no desire for her blood to be spilled. If she had to watch the weirdo taste her blood again, she would probably throw up for real.
With the acrid taste of bile and the tang of blood on her tongue, she redoubled her resistance. Her arcane energy thrummed in her circuits with every swing.
Rose had believed she had the woman at a disadvantage, but since she’d tasted Rose’s blood, the crazy witch had been a relentless hound. Every time Rose took a step back, she found a dagger at her neck.
When she attempted to sidestep, blood stained nails clawed towards her chest. Rose snarled. She hated the feeling of being caged in. She wondered if all the upper echelons of Minenblum’s Navy were this twisted, or if she’d simply been unfortunate enough to encounter the weirdest ones.
First there was that guy who wanted to turn her into an ice sculpture for his ‘collection’ and now this insane woman who wanted to drink her blood. She heard grunts from behind as Everyn and Axel struggled against the horde of regular soldiers.
They were being slowly overpowered. She had to end this before it was too late. Even though the thought disgusted her, she realised a perfect way to lure in and slaughter her enemy.
Darting backwards, she saw the woman lunging with an outstretched dagger. Rose tried her best not to smirk at the obvious attack.
This time, instead of dodging the blade, she allowed it to bite into her skin. The stinging pain followed after a moment, but she clenched her jaw through the burn.
When a trickle of blood spurted out, the woman’s eyes lit up. Her hand flashed forwards, grasping at the scarlet mist.
In her desire, she ignored Rose’s odd movements and the fact she wasn’t trying to avoid her touch. On the contrary, she welcomed her enemy drawing near.
What followed was almost invisible to mortal eyes. The rear admiral’s hand flashed forwards, stabbing at Rose a second time as she reached into the spray of blood.
Rose instead, cast aside her borrowed cutlass. It was far too weak for what had to be done. Her arcane energy swirled and rippled in her core, gathering into one spot.
The moment the tip of the dagger reached her skin, the energy exploded outwards. Her hands flashed out to both sides of the woman’s head.
The tips of her fingers formed claws, razor blades of arcane energy cut into her skull at ten points. The woman’s body fell limp instantly.
Her arms dropped down, the dagger clutched in the stiff grip of rigor mortis. Silence fell over the battle, the sounds of clashing steel and screaming slipping away as those present realised what had happened.
Rose yanked her hands back, sending ten thin jets of blood spraying out across the stone tiles of the room. She flicked her hands, ridding them of the sticky stains.
Her circuits were a little frayed from the rapid exertion of energy. She wasn’t used to such explosive techniques. It wasn’t a practiced move.
The disgust at the woman’s actions had triggered a primal instinct in Rose. Anything to stop her from acting as she pleased.
Rose had no time to recover before she heard two cries of rage. One was high pitched while the other guttural. A deafening clap rang out and she felt her muscles go stiff.
The acrid scent of burning meat struck her nostrils and filled the back of her throat. Glancing downwards, she saw her entire body had been cooked. A tall man wearing the uniform of a commodore, with the sleeves ripped off revealing enormous biceps, appeared in front of her.
He swung down with a giant bastard sword, roaring like a beast. At the same instant, the rear admiral’s corpse exploded into a shower of arcane sparks.
Rose heard a faint splash in her ringing ears. The world flashed white and blue. She barely had the presence of mind to throw herself backwards as the sword and a bolt of electric energy smashed into the ground, tearing the stone into pieces.
She heard the sounds of battle from every direction as the soldiers redoubled their efforts. No way Everyn and Axel could keep up their resistance.
Rose’s head was spinning. Her vision was blurry, but she could see her attackers. Pale skin stretched itself out over her body, the infusion of energy from defeating an awakened enemy doing its best to heal the damage.
It was like trying to put out a forest fire with a cup of water. However, she could still move. That was all she needed.
Rose could feel that despite their rage, her new opponents were far from a match for the insane woman she’d just defeated. Only their rage and decisive initiation had given them an advantage.
The man roared again, throwing himself forward. He swung the enormous bastard sword as if it were a paperweight. She saw the woman raising a rapier to the sky, arcane energy crackling towards the tip.
The power of the second lightning bolt had been less than the first one which had almost roasted her. She must be using almost all her energy each time. Is it time to pray? Rose inwardly joked.
However, she refused to call on Sylack for assistance unless she was truly knocking on death’s door. She still had yet to come to terms with the truth of their relationship.
Unfortunately she had tossed away her only bladed weapon. Either she had to meet the bastard sword with her hands or with her fishing rod.
Even though it was an epipelagic artifact, she doubted that a wooden rod would be able to clash with forged steel. There was no telling the quality of the sword at a glance, after all.
A commodore could just as easily possess an artifact that matched her own. That left her with only one option. It was reckless, but injury was better than death.
A glance over her shoulders proved her fears correct. Everyn had been forced to his knees, covered in wounds. Axel fared little better, on his feet but with a dagger embedded in his thigh as he fought off three soldiers.
The sword screamed towards her, the man’s arms rippling as he swung it down. She felt the energy coursing through his body, empowering the blow.
It was barely a ripple, but even that much was more than she could muster in a single breath. Cursing her luck, she strained her core for the second time, forcing all her energy into her hands.
Instead of claws, this time she only needed a barrier to protect her skin from the edge of the blade. Her eyes darted around as she raised her forearms into a cross guard to protect her vitals.
The edge of the blade smashed into her arms. She was pushed backwards and down. Lances of burning pain cut into her flesh from the edge of the blade, but Rose held on.
Spotting what she needed in the corner of her eye, she kicked out. Her foot caught the man’s knee, making him buckle. She rushed towards the cutlass lying on the ground, arm outstretched.
Her fingers curled around the handle and she hefted the blade in her right arm. At that moment a bolt of arcane lightning ripped into her shoulder, coursing through her body before returning to the earth beneath her feet.
Her heart fluttered, almost missing a beat. Smoke curled up from her burnt flesh, a human barbeque. Rose screamed, letting all her pain, frustration, and rage erupt into the sky.
The sheer emotion behind the shout carried a heavy weight. Unintentionally, she infused her cries with arcane power.
Both commodores crumpled, clutching their ears as blood began to trickle from their nose and burst eardrums. All the regular soldiers close enough to be caught in it were knocked out cold, giving her allies a relief from the chaos.
She gasped for breath, using the cutlass she’d found as a support to remain standing. It took everything she had. After a few seconds, Rose stood up tall, glaring at her two opponents.
They had blood dripping down their necks and chins, but they shared her furious gaze. Rage filled three pairs of eyes, a moment of silence between those who were about to die.
Rose knew that this trap had been Minenblum’s gambit. If she killed these two, they would be able to escape before reinforcements arrived. Unfortunately, it might take her life to accomplish such a feat.
The male officer was the first to move. Hefting the bastard sword over his head, he rushed at her. “You’ll die for killing Leria! Pirate scum!” he roared.
Rose didn’t have the energy to come up with a suitably biting retort. Instead, she raised her cutlass, composing herself. The woman raised her rapier, but her arcane energy sputtered out. Snarling, she threw herself forwards, joining the man in a two-pronged assault.
With enemies on every side, her choice was clear. Victory or death, Rose scoffed to herself. Why not both?
With a roar of her own, she forced every last scrap of energy she possessed to course through her circuits, empowering her burnt muscles into action. Every move was agony, but the pain was proof she still lived.
Three opponents charged forward. The room shook. Splinters flew everywhere as a thunderclap tore through the air. Rose saw fire and blood, the flash of steel, then darkness.
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