Velros had stopped thinking about the battle as a whole a while ago. His ship was under attack, and the commanders of each battlefield would have to hold their own.

He was now only focused on the fight right before him. “Estrazol!” he shouted, and lightning bounced from his hand to the chest of the closest elf, killing him. He observed the charred elf falling to the deck, dead as can be. That’s what you get for having cheaty, underwater ships.

It was the tenth enemy he felled so far and he was already beginning to feel tired. Aging wasn’t good for his magic skills.

“Estrazol!” he shouted again, his voice hoarse, targeting a strong-looking human who had just jumped aboard. There were humans on board the elven vessels as well, though only elite ones.

The human took Velros’ lightning and laughed as his magically enhanced armor rendered the heaven’s smite useless. Velros sighed, realizing that his best spell couldn't be used anymore. He sighed again when he thought that for this man to be wearing magic armor, it had to mean he was here specifically to kill Velros.

Then the vice-admiral gulped as he saw the banner on the back of the man: “Sword of the Devil.”

The strongest Sword himself had come after him, and an aged commander would stand no chance against a pirate fleet’s most competent fighter. Panicking, Velros turned around, hoping to find another vice-admiral to team up with. Then they might have had a chance against the Sword.

But they had split up during the battle. He turned around again, but this time the Sword was standing right in front of him. Velros’ aged eyes were clouded with indignation. His entire life, all his achievements and strength, were going to just end like this?

Eyes going red and aged lips shivering, Velros spat at the enemy. “Curse you! Curse you all!” he roared, striking out, but it was useless; his opponent was just too strong, and Velros was too alone.

The last thing Velros saw before his head was cut off was a disappointed look in the eyes of the Sword of the Devil.

After killing Velros, the Sword of the Devil mumbled something about his enemies being weak and went on to hunt the other vice-admirals. According to what the boss had said before the battle, nobody on this ship would pose a serious threat for him, as long as he took them on one at a time. He looked at the elven ships and happened to notice that he could only see one of the two ships. Not my problem, he thought and moved towards Fred, grinning devilishly.

🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️

A few minutes ago, when the elven ships surfaced behind the flagship and the sailors were frantically running around and preparing for battle, Fred had talked to the boys.

“Listen,” he said, “I want you to hide somewhere while we fend them off. You can try one of the boats we have for emergencies. This is not your fight; they are elites, but so are we. We can handle them.”

They could tell the man was lying, they weren’t stupid. But they understood why he was lying, and they understood that he was right.

“Yes, sir”, said Vreil with tears in his eyes. Even though they had only known him for a few days, Fred was willing to put their lives before his. Such bravery touched not only Vreil’s heart, but the rest of them too.

They ran to one of the boats hanging from the side of the ship. As they hid there, they saw many figures pass by them and head for where the vice-admirals were fighting. The figures numbered a lot, but soon they stopped coming. Milos popped his head outside and looked around.

“There are no more”, he said. The four of them had already decided that they would do whatever they could to help, even if they had to risk their lives. Vreil stood up and got out of the boat. His expression was conflicted for a moment, but the thoughtfulness vanished as if it was never there.

“If we are going to hide in a boat,” he said, “then it would be better for it to be an elven boat. Who knows how many things we can do to help, if we take their ship over.”

Still lost and confused, the others followed his lead; they nodded.

The second elven ship was just right next to them so they jumped on it, landing abruptly because of the height difference. Elven ships were called “submarines”, according to what Fred had told them. They were small and light, enclosed by some lightweight metal, and its entrance was a hole on top of it. They were like mechanical baby whales.

On its left and right sides, the ship sported what looked like membrane oars, which the boys assumed were used to push the ship forward when it was underwater. Much like rowing on a normal boat, thought Nigel.

There was a trapdoor used to seal the hole on the top while the ship was underwater but, naturally, the hole was open now.

Looking above, nobody seemed to have noticed them. They grinned, imagining all the ways they could assist in the battle if they took over this submarine. Perhaps they could sound a false alarm, attack the enemies from behind, or use the submarine’s weapons to bombard the pirates above and help the vice-admirals. At worst, they could just sink the submarine and jump back on the flagship’s deck.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The possibility of enemies hiding inside the submarine did not worry them. Truth be told, they had heard many rumors about the Sword of the Sea’s strength in the last 3 days, and their victory over him had gotten to their heads.

Inside the hole, they discovered a small ladder and started descending into the submarine. The young men were expecting at least some armed resistance, so they were surprised when the only one they found inside was an old, weak-looking elf. He was in a room full of levers, trying to repair something when they came in.

“Why are you still her- Ahh”, he said when he turned around and saw them. They momentarily froze too, before they realized what was going on.

“Sorry, we're borrowing this” Milos spoke as the others were taking glances backward, almost unwilling to believe their luck.

They had never seen an elf before. They looked like humans, but they were a little taller and thinner than regular humans. Their ears were pointy and their eyes had two rings of color, instead of one like the humans. Other than that, there were no other visual differences, at least none that they could see.

This particular elf had long black hair decorating his long-eared head. His eyes were green in the inner circle and blue in the outer one, seeming strangely magical.

Vreil glared at him. "Are you the captain?" he asked.

“I am simply a mechanic”, he replied when he recovered from the first shock. “If only I could drive it too, I would be a happy man.”

Vreil noted that this elf was good at lying, but not good enough to fool him. His keen senses could pick up the signs of lying in the elf, as he had been taught by his father. Elven and human physiology weren’t that different, after all.

“That’s too bad”, he said. “We’ll have to make this work ourselves then.” He sat on a chair in front of some levers and started playing around with them.

“DON’T”, shouted the elf. “You’ll break it!”

“Will you do me a favor then?” Vreil smiled sardonically while the rest looked on. “Can you take us to the pirate base with this thing?”

As anyone would expect, the elf refused at first, but when Vreil politely explained that their need was urgent and placed his sword at the elf’s neck, he was a little more collaborative.

"Vreil", Milos said in a strange tone and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What?" Vreil replied innocently, but Milos could tell it was fake.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Vreil's eyes flickered. He looked behind Milos only to find the others staring at him. Nigel, especially, seemed to be hesitating about something. Vreil opened his mouth to say something, but thought about it and sighed instead, his eyes flashing a cold gleam.

How could he not know what they were implying?

In these days, they had bonded with the sailors on Fred's ship. The sailors had taught them many things, they had laughed together and drunk together, and now those same sailors were fighting for their lives and they were doing nothing to help. Before, all four of them had been trying to hide and ignore their emotions, but they were feeling guilty and useless. They were desperate to do something, to help, to contribute. That was why they were here!

Heck, Fred himself was laying down his life to protect theirs and they could do nothing but sit back and watch! Just how were they supposed to feel?

And now that an opportunity presented itself, Vreil was trying to take them from Fred’s fight. Who knows how much they could help Fred and the other vice-admirals if they stayed here, with this ship? Perhaps if they caused a big enough commotion, part of the enemy forces would be drawn to them, giving the White House command room to breathe.

Vreil knew how they felt. He, too, was conflicted. He had been raised with moral values and had once sworn to help the innocent, right after Ashter had found him, helpless himself.

Fred and the sailors had been kind to him, and he owed them. They were good people. And now, he was trying to throw away the opportunity to save them, to simply abandon them to their fate.

On the inside, Vreil was tearing up. But on the outside, his gaze was cold and determined. He knew what he had to do. And he wouldn't do it.

All these months, his hatred and pain had been festering inside him, growing more subdued but also stronger. Images of his once beautiful village lying broken and burnt passed through his mind, slowly fading away to reveal a Black Beard insignia, a black skull with two white bones crossed under it, covered in blood. His parents' blood. His friends' blood. He thought he had had control over the emotions but, in truth, all he was doing was pushing them deeper and deeper inside him.

Now that there was an avenue for revenge, he couldn't hold back. It was impossible, no matter what. And since there was nothing he could do to avoid it, he might as well not hesitate. Life had made Vreil a decisive person.

There were excuses and plausible reasons he could give. About the strategic importance of this decision, how they couldn't really affect the battle above with this ship... There were a lot of reasons. But everyone knew that, even if they were true, they weren't the real reason. So he didn't try.

"I'm begging you", was all he said, staring his friends in the eyes.

Decisiveness and coldness were flashing in his eyes, but the boys could see the inner torment he was going through.

Nigel stared at him for a moment, then closed his eyes and leaned back, his expression indecipherable but his stance clear.

Milos was the fastest to agree. Staring deep in Vreil's eyes, he nodded resolutely. He was not a kind-hearted person to begin with, and his training in Waterslide had made him even less so. Besides, his parents too had died to the Black Beard pirates. Vreil wasn't the only one seeking revenge.

Arthur frowned. “Are you telling us to abandon them?” he asked.

The word hung heavily in the air, weighing their hearts. Vreil stood his ground.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. I don’t have a choice. They killed my family. I’m begging you.”

Arthur just sat there, teeth clenching so hard they were about to break, fear and resolve alternating inside him. "After this is over, we will talk", he said grimly, his voice also carrying a tone of resignation.

Vreil took it all in and nodded, pressing his blade deeper into the elf's neck until a thin trail of blood started to leak.

“If you cut my head off, you won’t be able to get away”, said the elf, not really caring about their ordeal.

“It is not your head that I’m going to cut off. Take us to the pirate base”, Vreil ordered.

That was about as much as the poor elf’s heart could take before he agreed to help them. He sat on the chair Vreil was sitting on before and, with the sounds of air escaping and tubes creaking, the submarine descended below sea level.