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Sharako Lohar led the battered remnants of his squadron deeper into the Gullet. The sea gradually widened, and the dark clouds that had blanketed the sky earlier had mysteriously cleared, leaving behind a vast, brilliant blue expanse.
Seeing the weather brighten, the heavy weight on his chest eased slightly. But then a sharp cramp seized his calf — the old burn scars there flared with fresh pain as the adrenaline finally faded.
The soldiers on board had finally escaped the Cannibal's pursuit. They let out collective sighs of relief, exchanging nervous glances, still shaken to the core.
"Fuck those dragons! They're not invincible after all!"
Someone cursed loudly, trying to shake off the terror still gripping his heart.
"Don't relax yet! Keep rowing!" Sharako snapped when he saw his men slowing down.
Even though they had lost many ships to the Targaryen dragons, their main force was still intact.
"Those six monsters can't possibly catch every single ship in this vast sea. Since we've broken free, push harder! We'll reach Tidehead Island and loot it clean!"
His words reignited the men's spirits. They nodded eagerly, seeing the logic.
"The admiral's right! We have to hit Tidehead to make up for our losses!"
"Word is the island's defenses are weak — perfect time to strike!"
Seeing his men regain their fighting spirit, Sharako finally allowed himself to relax.
He had no intention of returning empty-handed. Ever since Logar captured him the last time, his properties in Lys had been seized. He was now completely broke.
The Lysene magistrates had only ransomed him back because of those assets — and they were using his family as leverage, forcing him to redeem himself through service.
Now, with nothing left, Sharako's heart burned with nothing but bone-deep hatred for the Sea Burner. Of course, now that the bastard had tamed a dragon, he was untouchable — but that didn't stop him from venting his rage elsewhere!
"The gods are so unfair… allowing a man like the Sea Burner to tame a monster…"
Recalling the image of that black, savage beast gliding over his head earlier, Sharako ground his teeth so hard they creaked.
He had the growing feeling that Logar was his natural nemesis. Why else had everything gone wrong for him from the moment that silver-haired bastard appeared in the Stepstones?
Even more terrifying was how their fates had diverged so completely. From the lowest pirate to a sellsword serving the Blacks, and now an untouchable dragonrider.
The more he thought about it, the more a chill ran down his spine. It felt like he had offended someone blessed by the gods — a destined protagonist.
The growing anxiety made him snap at his men. "Row faster! We need to reach Tidehead as soon as possible!"
Over a dozen ships that had escaped with Sharako now sailed through the open inner sea toward Tidehead Island.
Most of the soldiers still carried the trauma of seeing six dragons dominating the sky. Only the thought of looting Tidehead gave them any sense of purpose.
Sharako kept glancing nervously behind them, terrified the black dragon would reappear.
Even though the sea was vast and the ships had scattered, the unease in his chest refused to fade.
Suddenly, he remembered a small incident from many years ago.
Back when he was still an ordinary sailor, he had met a witch from Asshai. She had read his fortune and left him with a prophecy.
He would not die at sea.
He would not die by fire.
He would die when his feet touched solid ground.
He had laughed it off as nonsense at the time and forgotten it completely.
But now, the words resurfaced — and strangely, they brought him comfort.
"Yes… the witch said I wouldn't die at sea. I'm still on the water, so my time hasn't come yet!"
"She also said I wouldn't die by fire, which means the dragons' flames can't kill me either! Hahaha! It all matches!"
Convinced by this logic, he slapped his belly in excitement. Even the old burn scars across his body now felt like proof that the prophecy was real.
His men watched Sharako go from anxious to laughing like a madman and exchanged uneasy glances. They lowered their heads, quietly wondering if their admiral had lost his mind in battle.
Sharako paid them no attention. Certain that his fated death had not yet arrived, he gave the order with renewed energy.
"Everyone, pick up the pace! Once we reach the waters near Tidehead, we'll stop and rest, eat, regain our strength — then land and loot everything!"
"Yes!"
The soldiers on the other ships responded eagerly. Now that they were far from the dragons, their hunger returned with a vengeance.
At that moment, the clear blue sky suddenly darkened again.
Sharako, who had just stepped into the cabin to eat something, heard his men cry out in alarm. He rushed back on deck and looked up at the suddenly overcast sky, muttering, "Rain again?"
But the screams that followed dragged him straight into nightmare.
"Admiral Sharako! It's — it's the dragon! It's caught up to us!!"
Sharako's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Only then did he realize it wasn't clouds above them — it was the terrifying black dragon.
"Hello again, old friend."
On the Cannibal's back, silver hair whipping wildly in the wind, Logar slowly descended.
He leaned forward and gave the deathly pale Sharako a little wink, a cruel smile curving his lips.
"I heard you wanted to race me? My dragon took a short nap earlier. Shall we begin now?"
"AAAAHHH!!!"
Before Sharako could respond, from the other side of the sky, Nettles dove on Sheepstealer, launching her attack on the small fleet.
Blazing dragonflame poured down, instantly shattering the lead ships. The Triarchy soldiers — who had still been dreaming of looting Tidehead — died with expressions of terror frozen on their faces as they sank into the sea with their vessels.
"No! The witch prophesied I wouldn't die at sea or by fire!!"
Watching both the Cannibal and Sheepstealer circle above, systematically hunting his ships, Sharako screamed in panic.
The witch had said he would die when his feet touched solid ground. His final resting place was supposed to be land — not this endless ocean!
A sharp cracking sound rang out.
"I thought I'd give you a more creative death," Logar said coldly, "as thanks for all the trouble you've caused me over the years."
"Cannibal — now!"
The black dragon dove like a meteor, his massive claws seizing Sharako's flagship and lifting the entire ship clear out of the water.
A dragon over sixty meters long, like a flying black fortress. In his grip, the warship crumpled like paper. Soldiers were either crushed instantly or thrown screaming from the deck, falling to their deaths in the sea below.
"No! I can't die! My time hasn't come yet!!!"
Sharako clung desperately to a cabin door handle, refusing to be flung off as the ship rose into the air.
As he stared at the barren island rapidly approaching below, and felt his body falling alongside the ship, a horrifying realization struck him.
Was this what the witch meant by "when his feet touch solid ground"?
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