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Salt and Blood - Chapter 87
🕑 Added 2024-11-29 16:44:30 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 86 | Table of Contents | Chapter 88 >>
1.87 - Royal Decree
I had the good fortune to witness a bathypelagic warrior unleash his most powerful skill upon a sea monster once, while he was escorting me to a recently discovered island. I believed that having reached the epipelagic tier in a few of my own skills I might not be too much weaker. Let’s just say I’m very glad I’m not a sea monster…
-Excerpt from ‘Adventures in the Belanus Cluster’ by Professor Vaumir
Vice Admiral Chester Saff stood on the aft of his flagship, sailing ahead of his fleet. Nine ships in total including his prized companion Steelcutter, he had complete confidence in crippling and capturing Trent Blackheart.
He stared down at the shards of his brother’s lifestone, dull and broken. He’d known there was a chance Branmore would fail—as he’d done so many times before—but he’d never expected him to die.
Chester didn’t hate his brother. Far from it. He was so harsh on the arrogant little git because he wanted him to succeed.
Branmore had always been talented, but his foul temper and irrational behaviour held him back. The navy didn’t value those who didn’t fall in line.
He could’ve personally swayed the command of course, but using the power he’d garnered over almost two decades of service for nepotism felt like a waste. And it wouldn’t have helped Branmore become a better man.
None of that mattered now…
Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, relishing the tang of salt and the comforting whiff of smoke. He pulled on the ambient energy, refilling his depleted core.
His opening salvo had taken a lot out of him, but he believed it was important to send a clear message to enemies—and allies—that escape from the Shadow King was impossible.
He had a reputation to uphold. Chester rather enjoyed listening to the rumours about himself and the one that claimed he could make the sun run in fear was his favourite.
Scaring the other guy shitless was half the battle.
Not this time. He knew Blackheart was a fearsome foe. So he’d gone all out from the get go. However tough the bastard was, three thousand fiery missiles raining on his head was sure to hurt.
The first of his missiles fell from the sky. In the distance, he could just make out the silhouette of Branmore’s killer. He wanted nothing more than to gut the pirate like a pig, but the king had demanded he be brought back to Aughold.
A public execution was a great humiliation, supposedly.
Chester wasn’t convinced of that old policy. They’d put Saltbeard to death in public and it had only served to fan the flames of his legend.
Even more pirates had popped out of the woodworks afterwards, as though they were chasing after a slice of the pie the man left behind. No, a silent and ignoble death was all these scumbags deserved.
And he’d given that to a great many of them. But not this time. He clenched his jaw, gaze unflinching as the missiles began to explode and rain fiery hell on Blackheart.
The corner of Chester’s mouth crept upwards, but he didn’t allow himself to smile. Happiness would have to wait until the job was done.
He wouldn’t be able to face his mother and father if he failed to capture Blackheart here. Raising an arm, he gave the command to begin firing the cannons.
Gunpowder and steel might do little against such a powerful enemy, but only a fool squandered an advantage, no matter how small it was. The thunderous clap of the roaring cannons was music to his ears, building on the symphony of his shrieking salvo of missiles.
The air grew thick with black smoke, but it didn’t impede his vision in the slightest. He was the Shadow King of Minenblum. Since the day he was born he’d been mired in the fumes of industry.
He felt more at peace wrapped in the smoke and flames of battle than he did in the peaceful streets of Aughold. Every moment he spent on land made his skin crawl.
This… this was what he was born for.
Chester Saff prepared to give the command to strike, his elites and officers awaiting his command to unleash a barrage of death upon their prey. He raised his arm, palm open.
The moment he closed his fist they would drain their cores to burn, tear, slice, and smash Trent Blackheart into a crippled mess.
Green sparks crackled from within the cloud of black smoke. He frowned, but paid them no heed. There was no chance the pirate could overcome their combined assault while fighting alone.
Perhaps if the Midnight Witch had stayed they could’ve put up a decent resistance. Chester had noticed her racing away the moment he launched his first strike, but he let her go.
Blackheart was the one who’d killed Branmore.
Blackheart was the man who’d killed Prince Kaldex all those years ago, so he was the only one the king wanted in chains.
The ships drew close enough that he could smell the black flames of the shadow forge streaking through the sky. It was time. However, right before he could give the order the world lit up in a blinding flash of green.
Then he felt the burning heat. It seared his skin, blistering what should’ve been impervious to flame after a lifetime of working with it.
Skill up!
Fire Resistance ★★23 > ★★24
Toxin Resistance 32 > 34
And it didn’t end there.
Underneath the scalding agony there was an insidious writhing bite that scratched and clawed at him, trying to dig its way inside. He immediately ignited half of his energy to flush his system and erect a thin barrier around himself.
Even then, he had to feed it continuously as the horrifying attack corroded his hastily erected defence. What had Blackheart unleashed that could cause such damage?
Skill up!
Arcane Attunement ★67 > ★68
His gaze darted around but he could barely see after that flash of green light. As his vision returned he grimaced at the festering, burnt remains of his fleet.
Hundreds of his men lay dead, more screamed in agony as vile green flames burned at their flesh and as he looked at the broken remains of his ships he noticed something strange.
These flames didn’t just burn, they were rotting everything they touched. Turning towards Blackheart, he watched as a sun of green fire rose from the ocean’s surface. A halo of corrupting light crowned the evil pirate as he brandished a serrated cutlass crackling with tidal energy.
Chester roared, his unbridled fury making the sails of his flagship tremble. Steelcutter was the only ship in his fleet to emerge unbroken from the assault.
Though the plague-like flames were still burning on its shields, eating their way through. He watched as his men recovered from the blast, rushing to and fro to put the fires out.
To starboard, Valiance still held firm, though it had lost the mainsail and was moving at a snail’s pace. Seven ships were decimated in a single strike.
Water turned to steam as buckets were desperately tossed over the flames. Sand turned black and rotted away when they tried that instead. Nothing worked.
Blackheart had grown even more powerful, despite being cursed with that festering wound that earned him his moniker. He must be an adherent. But even my Dark Flames of the Shadow Forge are not so potent…
With a wave of his arm, Chester summoned a cloud of black smoke to devour the flames. He lurched as almost half his remaining energy was drained, far more than he’d expected.
However, when the smoke cleared the vile flames had cleared. His men looked up at him with admiration and fury, awaiting the command to strike back.
Chester suspected that Trent Blackheart wielded a similar power to his, the gifts of an adherent. Yet to wield them with such finesse took a great toll on one’s body. A toll that man shouldn’t be able to bear with his in such a state.
It didn’t matter how strong he’d grown. Surely that was a one off. A strike utilising every scrap of energy the bastard had left.
“Rear Admiral!” he shouted, his second-in-command snapping to attention. “Gather whoever is left standing and follow me. This madness will not continue.”
Without waiting to gauge the man’s reaction he took a step and landed on the surface of the ocean. Black smoke gathered around him like a cloak of shadows and dark flames flickered atop his head like a crown of midnight.
A few more steps brought him within shouting distance of his foe. Blackheart had a devilish smirk on his face, admiring the destruction and death he’d wrought with undisguised glee.
“Damned villain! How can you take happiness in the slaughter of the innocent? The list of your crimes is endless. Your reign of terror ends now,” Chester roared with fury, spittle flying from his quivering lips.
“Innocent? Don’t make me laugh, Shadow King,” Blackheart cackled. “How many lives have you and your fleet snuffed out? How many innocents written off as mere collateral damage? Don’t dare to lecture me. You came to fight, so stop screaming like a coward and FIGHT!”
The insidious sun roared to life along with him and Chester felt the gathering tide racing into Blackheart’s blade. This close the heat was unbearable, his shield barely holding on with cracks running through its surface.
“So be it, pirate scum. I am many things, but a coward is not one of them. Let’s see how long you can keep up this charade of strength,” the vice admiral replied with eerie calmness, a straight-edged sword being summoned to his hands.
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