Salt and Blood [A Pirate LitRPG]

The impact of a battle is often greater than the physical marks it leaves. Mental scars are invisible, yet cut us the deepest

-Excerpt from 'The Lasting Impacts of War and Death,' by Professor Rathmere Greel

Rose flicked the blood from her borrowed blade. Even holding it loosely in her hand it felt wrong.

Sunsplitter danced through the air as if it were an extension of her own body. Her arcane energy flowed through it uninterrupted and it sang as it cleaved through flesh and bone.

It was ironic that she realised it from such a mundane battle, but the way the tide worked was truly a divine mystery. Arcane energy, the strange power Trent displayed in his final moments, and even soulbound items—they seemed to operate beyond the limits imposed by the whorls and words.

Legends said that the tide was a gift from the gods to help mortals control powers beyond their understanding and challenge the seas, but was that the truth? She was far from being capable of even asking that question, but even knowing it existed peeled back the veil enough for her to understand that her relationship with Sylack was beyond strange.

That was a given—she was his damned child. Never before had she heard of a god fathering children. Why had he done it? What did he gain?

Another head fell against the deck. The planks were slick with blood and the air stank of spent powder and spilled bowels.

Battle had a strange way of focusing the mind. She found that mysteries which eluded her in her sharpest moments were easily unravelled in the heat of combat.

Rose felt peaceful, despite the uncomfortable itch of using a foreign blade. The same could not be said for the rest of her companions.

Prince Everyn was barely standing. The taller of his guards was doing his utmost to protect the man, but he was equally injured. The other had died in the clash with Commodore Olivan.

Daniel and Jason were holding up surprisingly well. They had taken to Rose's lessons like fish in water and despite being inexperienced in true combat, hadn't blanched in the face of bloodshed and death.

Corpses were strewn across the deck, but even with dozens of dead navy soldiers left in their wake, the four of them weren't making a lot of progress. Rose knew they wouldn't escape alive if this continued.

This hadn't been the original plan. However, the presence of a second commodore had drastically shifted the situation.

Everyn had done fantastically well, considering how poorly his last clash with a commodore rank officer went. Then again, these two were weaker than Foulter had been.

Unfortunately, there was a major obstacle barring their escape. Rose had thought they could steal one of the arcane tech ships to make their escape, but with the number of soldiers flocking to the flagship that had become impossible.

They had flung boarding ropes between the huge ship and the two nearest to it. More soldiers streamed across each second.

Suddenly her eyes lit up. Their enemies had opened the path for them—all they had to do was walk it.

"All of you! Get behind me. We're getting the hell out of here," she yelled out, catching the attention of her crew.

It was one thing to give the order, but another entirely for them to follow it. With at least three soldiers hacking and slashing at each of them, disengaging and making their way towards Rose was a difficult prospect.

They managed it by covering each other. Everyn stepped up despite his injuries to give Aaron the space he needed to break free from his clash with three cutlass wielders.

Soon they all stood behind Rose, faces grim but ready to fight their way free. Only, none of them knew what she had in mind.

Everyn gave voice to what they were all thinking. "Rose, our ship is buried three decks down! How the hell are we supposed to escape!?"

Rose smirked. "We'll steal one of their fancy ships and take it back home. I figured out how they work while you lot were lazing about up here," she replied, tapping her temple with a finger.

Daniel snorted. Jason nodded, ever eager to agree with the crowd. He was a bulky lad, great with his blade and fists, but thinking wasn't his strong suit.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"How the hell are we supposed to steal a ship? I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a horde of soldiers bearing down on us," Everyn whined.

"Everyn, you did a great job holding off the commodore. Now it's time to shut up and follow me."

He looked constipated, but didn't complain any further. There were still a few rows of soldiers between them and the edge of the deck—where the boarding ropes were attached.

None of them knew what Rose planned to do about that, but they trusted her implicitly. So they all watched as she stood still and pressed her feet into the deck, staring straight at their destination.

To all of them save Everyn, it looked as if she was simply standing and waiting. The prince however, saw the flowing arcane energy that spread from her core and gathered in her feet in two coiling whirlpools.

"The instant I start moving, you'll all need to rush after me. If you delay even a single moment, you'll lose your chance. I won't stop to save you if it means we all die," she warned, a grim expression on her face.

This was their only chance to escape alive. Sacrificing all their lives to save a single straggler wasn't possible—or reasonable. They all knew that and accepted it with a nod.

The stakes had been clear before they set sail. The lives of everyone on the Emerlan Isle were at stake, so what were their measly lives in comparison?

Rose's arcane energy crescendoed. A tiny stream of it was writhing in her right shoulder while the majority of what she had left had been forced into her feet and bent hamstrings.

She was staking all of their lives on this single charge. Against a bunch of weaklings she was completely confident in her success. The final drop of arcane energy left her core.

"Now!" she cried as her legs exploded with the force of a rocket.

The deck shattered in her wake, splinters of wood sent flying to the sides as her feet slammed into the planks. The sheer force of her charge was enough that the splinters pierced straight through the nearest soldiers, killing or maiming them.

As for the others, they had been ready to run the moment she gave the order. As soon as she burst forth, they were already running. However, Everyn suddenly spluttered, staggering as he spat blood.

"Your highness!" Aaron exclaimed, turning in horror as the prince seemed to fall to the deck. If he couldn't regain his balance, he was as good as dead.

"Leave me! Tell my father about my heroic sacrifice," he wheezed, a pained smile on his face.

The trickle of blood that left his lips told the truth. Despite knowing he might be condemning them both, Aaron was loyal to the core.

Without a second thought, he abandoned his charge and turned to grab the crown prince. Everyn opened his mouth but before he could speak, the lanky man hefted him up and threw him over his shoulder.

With the added weight he was slowed, but his eyes burned with determination. He'd been assigned to the prince for the last six years. In that time he'd learnt a thing or two. His core wasn't awakened, but that didn't mean he was powerless.

A roar of bestial rage rippled from his lungs, stunning the nearby soldiers before they could close the gap left by Rose's charge. Many were still reeling from the death and destruction she'd left in her wake.

Aaron reached within himself for every drop of strength he could, his legs pounding harder than his heart in his chest. With every beat he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he knew that even at full tilt they wouldn't make it.

Already the nearest soldiers were recovering. One lunged forwards, cutlass clutched in two hands. A cut ran down the side of his cheek and his bloodshot eyes locked onto the pair as he swung for the kill.

Without missing a beat, Aaron shifted the prince away from the blow and raised his arm to block. The cutlass edge was sharp and cut true.

Scarlet mist sprayed over the soldier as he slashed through Aaron's arm. It hadn't cut clean through. Half his forearm hung on a few strands of muscle.

The pain burned. The arm was forever lost, but it was a worthy price to pay to save Everyn's life. He was the future of their nation. Their hope.

Aaron looked up at his destination. Jason and Daniel were already racing across the taut ropes towards the next ship. Rose had spotted their plight and was waiting at the edge.

She didn't step back into the fray, knowing the danger that posed. However, as long as he could make it to her, there was a chance.

However, when he was just three strides away from safety, two female soldiers stepped out from the crowd to block his path. One wielded a cutlass and the other held a pistol in shaking, bloodstained hands.

Aaron closed his eyes for a moment. He knew his life was forfeit. He'd given it his all, but that hadn't been enough. It was a good life, he thought to himself.

Most men would face death with fear and anxiety, but he was truly content. Because he wouldn't let his final moments be in vain. Aaron gave up on his escape, planting his front foot into the deck with a heavy thud.

He locked eyes with Rose and in that moment, she understood. With a brief nod towards her, he shifted Everyn off his shoulder and twisted his hips backwards.

The cutlass wielding soldier screamed and stepped towards them, the edge of her blade descending towards his shoulder. With a single arm, he couldn't use all his strength.

It didn't matter. He was certain he would succeed. The click of the pistol's hammer cocking was his signal. Every muscle in his body rippled with power as he flung the prince overhead, towards Rose.

The pistol cracked and the cutlass sang. Aaron stared at the prince's body as it sailed high in the air. He could have prayed to Thoramir, but he didn't need to. In his heart, as the bullet pierced his chest and the blade carved his shoulder, he knew he'd succeeded.