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CHAPTER 233
295 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
A/N: Monday's chapter.
As Aermir's army pressed forward, the map of the conquered lands expanded steadily. The enemy was caught off guard and, without a unified response, struggled to mount an effective defense. Aermir's decision to divide his forces and maintain secrecy through the elimination of messengers proved instrumental in the success of the campaign.
The flying familiars continued to patrol the skies, ensuring that no word of the invasion reached the enemy commanders. Aermir's calculated approach not only secured victories on multiple fronts but also laid the foundation for a swift and decisive conquest of the unsuspecting territories.
...
SEVERAL DAYS AGO
The war room, adorned with flickering torchlight, echoed with hushed deliberations. Yohn Royce, Lord commander of this war, sat at the head of a long wooden table, surrounded by his advisor lords. The ornate map sprawled before them detailed the landscape they sought to defend, now beset by the prowess of Druid Emrys and the relentless onslaught of Lord Drasil's forces.
Alistair, a grizzled advisor with a sharp intellect, spoke first. "My Lord, the killer whales under Druid Emrys's control are a force to be reckoned with. They're sinking every ship we send, cutting off our lifelines from the mainland."
Yohn Royce furrowed his brow, his gaze fixed on the troublesome map. "Our sea routes compromised, our supply lines severed. We need a new approach."
In her husband's absence, Lady Elara was the regent of Lord Torrent, and she said,
"My Lord, we should seek help from those who understand the sea. They are just animals. Can't we just hunt them?"
Lady Elara made sense; Yohn Royce nodded thoughtfully. " Send the word, find every man with an ounce of spearfishing and whaling experience; we have to hunt those beasts down."
Yohn Royce's brow furrowed. "We must address the killer whales swiftly while fortifying our defenses before the Druid and Drasil came for this island."
As plans were set into motion, the shadow of an unforeseen threat loomed. Unbeknownst to them, Poe and Erebus circled the skies, intercepting any messengers or ravens attempting to reveal the true nature of the predicament. The war room remained unaware of the silent sabotage executed by the magical sentinels.
...
The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow upon the harbor of Littlesister. The lagoon, with its crystal-clear waters, seemed like an enchanting haven. Yet, for Repun, it presented an insurmountable challenge. He had attempted to infiltrate the harbor under the cover of darkness, seeking to eliminate the last remnants of the enemy's ships. However, the clarity of the water acted as a curse. Repun's memories were etched with the failed attempt, a mission that had cost the life of one of his friends.
...
A FEW DAYS AGO
The morning sun cast a golden hue over the harbor of Littlesister as the Sistermen, veiled by the daylight, maneuvered their fleet of 35 small fishing boats into a position a few km outside of the harbor, each vessel holding a crew of ten men armed with fishing nets and spears.
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The first rays of morning light illuminated the fishing nets as they were deftly cast into the water, creating a web of entanglement. The spears, glinting in the sunlight, were poised for a swift and precise strike.
The first assault came from Repun and his pod as they sunk 3 of the fishing boats. Right after that, all hell broke loose. Suddenly, the quiet morning air was disrupted by the commotion. Fishing nets crisscrossed the water, aiming to ensnare the orcas, while spears were thrust downward in an attempt to pierce their agile adversaries.
Amidst the chaos and tragedy, the once serene sea now churned with turmoil. The Sistermen, exploiting the disarray caused by the nets within Repun's pod, managed to claim three lives in the frenetic clash. Repun, with his dominance over three of his kind, could only watch in helpless fury as the rest of his pod, acting independently, fell victim to the human onslaught.
As the surviving orcas attempted to escape, they encountered the insidious fishing nets entwined them in a web of panic and desperation. The orcas, unable to break free, surfaced for air only to be met with the ruthless thrust of spears.
Enraged, Repun's eyes glowed with an intensity fueled by sorrow and fury. The mana within him surged, and with a powerful display of dominance, he unleashed his wrath upon the small sailing boats. Almost half of them succumbed to the depths, shattered in the wake of Repun's vengeful onslaught.
But the retaliation came at a cost. The entangled nets become more chaotic, now floating like ghostly tendrils, still threatened the remaining members of Repun's pod. With a heavy heart, he realized the danger closing in on them.
Harnessing his mana, Repun fortified his own skin, rendering the spears only capable of causing superficial lacerations. Determination burned in his eyes as he navigated the narrowing gaps between the nets, his controlled orcas following his lead.
Repun's intellect outshone that of his fellow pod members. Recognizing their inability to navigate the treacherous nets, he took it upon himself to carve a path to safety. With each calculated bite, he grasped a corner of the net and pulled it in the opposite direction, methodically creating openings in the entangled web so his pod could dive deeper.
The water around Repun became a frenzied battleground, the air punctuated by the sound of shouting, slashing of water, and the tearing nets as he cleared a path for his pod. The mana that coursed through him, now a potent force of resilience, fueled his relentless efforts. Every spear and harpoon was directed toward him, and the minor lacerations were growing in number with every hit. If he can't untangle them, all of his family is going to die. He used his mana-infused jaw to tear open a hole big enough for an orca to pass.
...
The fighting was over, and they had managed to hunt many of the orcas, and the rest was retreating into the depths of the sea. The Sistermen started to celebrate their victory. Repun had realized he had underestimated his enemies.
He, fueled by an uncontrollable rage and a thirst for vengeance, watched his pod retreat into the depths. The loss of seven members still burned within him, an insatiable fire that fueled his desire for retribution. Repun swam alone toward the Sistermen's celebration.
Approaching the 25 Sistermen ships, Repun faced a new challenge. The lingering nets of the earlier skirmish made it nearly impossible for him to get close enough to the boats to sink them. The once deadly spikes on his harness, designed for offense, were rendered ineffective against the sturdy fishing nets.
In a moment of revelation, Repun relinquished control over the mana that protected his skin. Instead, he released it to the water around him. Suddenly, a surge of power enveloped him, and at top speed, he began to circle the Sistermen ships. They were cruising toward the harbor while singing and celebrating. The sea seemed to respond to his unleashed mana, amplifying his strength, but at a cost.
As Repun continued his high-speed circling, the relentless pace took a toll on him. The sea, acting as both ally and adversary, drained his energy with each passing moment. The very force that empowered him to seek vengeance now sapped his strength, making it an arduous feat to maintain the punishing speed.
Despite the exhaustion setting in, Repun's anger and determination overcame the physical strain. He pushed himself to the limits, unwilling to yield until justice was served for his fallen pod members.
Amidst the terrified screams of one fisherman, more astute than the rest, grasped the nature of their predicament. A sense of horror dawned upon him as he comprehended the dire truth. In a desperate attempt to warn his fellow sailors, he shouted with urgency,
"Whirlpool!"
The word echoed across the tumultuous sea, a chilling proclamation of the impending catastrophe; they were so close to the harbor that land was almost in sight. People close to him realized what was going on, but many of the Sistermen, still reveling in their presumed victory, now found themselves entangled in a force beyond their control.
The boats, drawn inexorably toward each other, collided with a tremendous force. The sea, once calm and celebratory, transformed into a chaotic maelstrom of colliding vessels. Wood splintered, and the boats were reduced to mere fragments.
In the aftermath, the once-celebrating Sistermen found themselves adrift amidst the debris of their ships; only a handful of them were alive, the sea now calm but bearing witness to the aftermath. The whirlpool had gone as fast as it had come, leaving a scene of chaos and despair in the sea.