Translator: CinderTL
Scarface Carl straightened abruptly, his ear cocked.
"Tom, did you hear that?"
Tom tensed, straining to listen.
"Just the wind, maybe? Or an echo in the canyon? This cursed place is full of strange noises..."
Despite his words, his hand instinctively gripped the curved saber at his waist.
The dense fog remained silent, swallowing the faint sound as if it had never existed.
Only the bone-chilling dampness stubbornly permeated every inch of wood, every canvas sail, and every pirate's taut nerves.
Unbeknownst to them, behind this natural curtain, a pair of sharp eyes had already locked onto their blurred silhouettes.
And a meticulously planned "hunt" was quietly beginning as the fog thickened.
In the next instant, everything changed.
The fog was no longer a silent curtain. It seemed to be violently torn apart by an invisible giant hand.
A massive silhouette, like a sea monster rising from the depths, burst through the milky-white chaos without warning, bearing down on the Bloodclaw's fragile flank with suffocating force.
"Enemy attack!"
Scarface Carl's shrill, cracking scream was instantly drowned out by the deafening roar of the collision.
Creak! Boom!
The wooden structure groaned and splintered with sickening sounds.
The Bloodclaw lurched violently, throwing the unprepared pirates on deck like bowling pins. They tumbled and rolled across the deck, their screams and curses blending into a chaotic cacophony.
Carl clung desperately to the slippery railing, barely managing to avoid being flung overboard. His eyes widened in terror as he finally made out the ghostly warship that had materialized from the fog.
Its streamlined hull resembled their pirate ship, but its sturdy oak hull was sheathed in polished copper. The prow was carved into the shape of a fierce puffin, its sharp beak gleaming coldly in the dim, misty light.
"Whose ship is this? Damn it! How did they find us in this thick fog?" Tom's voice was distorted by fear as he drew his cutlass, his arm trembling uncontrollably.
Before the Bloodclaw's pirates could mount any organized resistance, a hail of grappling hooks, whistling through the air, rained down from the Seabird's towering hull, sinking firmly into the Bloodclaw's deck and railings.
The ropes snapped taut with a dull thrum, binding the two ships together in a death grip.
Immediately afterward, countless boarding warriors swarmed onto the deck, brandishing their weapons at the bewildered pirates.
Among them, the most terrifying was a slender figure moving with ghostly speed.
She seemed to ignore the dense fog, stepping precisely along the taut ropes as if running on solid ground.
Her rapier flashed through the mist in a cold, silver arc. Wherever it passed, pirates who rushed to meet her fell like harvested wheat.
"Monster! She's a monster!"
Carl watched in horror as one of his most renownedly ferocious lieutenants had his throat pierced by a single strike from the slender figure.
Fear, like a venomous serpent, instantly gripped his heart.
This wasn't a battle—it was a one-sided slaughter!
Chaos spread like a plague.
Panic-stricken cries and the clash of steel erupted from the nearby Black Tooth and Wavebreaker, clearly suffering the same thunderous assault.
The fog echoed with screams and the clang of weapons, yet it was impossible to pinpoint the enemy's exact location or numbers. All they knew was that death was closing in from all sides.
The pirates stumbled around like headless flies. Some tried to sever the grappling hooks, only to be pinned to the deck by crossbow bolts.
A man tried to escape by jumping into the sea, only to be impaled by a spear that suddenly pierced through the fog.
More pirates, driven to despair, shoved and trampled each other in a desperate scramble.
Within mere breaths, the ranks of those daring to resist on the deck had dwindled by more than half. The survivors either cowered in corners, trembling, or had thrown down their weapons and knelt in surrender.
Yet Roland, standing atop the Seabird's towering sterncastle, spoke with the unwavering calm of a bedrock.
The maritime knowledge he had diligently studied earlier was now, under the influence of his focused state, transforming into practical combat strategies with astonishing speed.
"Port grappling hook secured to the Bloodclaw's mainmast! Boarding team, suppress the mid-deck! Prioritize eliminating heavy weapon users!"
His voice, though not loud, cut clearly through the fog to reach the ears of the signalmen waiting below.
The orders were swiftly relayed through coded whistle signals.
"The Wavebreaker is trying to cut the boarding lines and escape!" a lookout shouted urgently.
"Hmph, too late," Roland said, a cold smile curving his lips.
He had already prepared a second boarding team.
Like a cheetah coiled to strike, they launched a surprise attack from the Wavebreaker's blind spot—the fog-shrouded side of the ship—just as the pirates were scrambling to sever the lines.
The screams erupted again as the resistance on the Wavebreaker's deck was swiftly crushed.
The battle had gone even more smoothly than anticipated.
Before Roland even had to intervene, the pirates had been completely disoriented by the assault shrouded in thick fog.
They fought without organization, each man for himself, even trampling one another in their panic.
Meanwhile, on the Seabird, under Roland's strategic command and the leadership of elite crew members like Theresa, the crew moved with perfect coordination and lightning speed. Every strike landed precisely on the enemy's most vulnerable points.
"Report, Captain!" Hoby's excited, breathless voice crackled over the comms. The diminutive figure darted nimbly across the deck, his eyes shining with admiration. "The Bloodclaw's deck is cleared! A pirate leader on the Black Tooth resisted fiercely but has been wounded and captured! The Wavebreaker has surrendered!"
Roland nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield.
The thick fog still lingered, but the three pirate ships now lay limp on the sea like venomless sea snakes, their fangs drawn. Only scattered flames, the pervasive stench of blood, and the suppressed cries and groans of the prisoners remained.
The Seabird's losses were minimal, with only a few dozen crew members sustaining minor injuries.
"Well done," Roland said, his voice carrying a trace of battle fatigue but mostly radiating calm control.
"Tally the spoils, secure the prisoners, tend to the wounded, and assign reliable guards to the pirate captain. There's likely valuable information in his mind we need to extract."
"Yes, Mr. Roland!" Hoby responded crisply, his small frame brimming with energy as he turned to relay the orders.
Shortly after the crew began executing the cleanup operations, Roland finally exhaled in relief as he checked his Job Panel.
The "Pirate" job entry, which had previously displayed "Raided 0/5 large ships," now read "Raided 3/5 large ships."
"Just two more large ships to raid, and I'll officially become a Pirate!"
Clenching his fist, Roland's gaze drifted toward the depths of Howling Gorge.
The fog there was even denser and heavier, the churning gray mist seeming to carry ominous shadows.
According to intelligence gathered over the past few weeks, at least eight to ten pirate ships were lurking in the gorge's depths—more than enough to fulfill the requirements for the Pirate job!
(End of the Chapter)
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