All Demetrius could see was darkness. He could only hear the faint echo of water dripping from his wet clothes and the bantering of the pirates above him. The lower decks smelled of alcohol, and the floor was made unsteady by bloody gold pieces that softly dug into his boots with every step, silently moving between half-empty wooden kegs. As he made his way through the lower deck, he cautiously stepped lightly through the room, using the slivers of light between the weak floorboards from the lantern-lit party above to guide his path around the heaps of stolen goods. As he made his way deeper into the lower decks, the gaps in the floorboards grew, and he could see that he was walking over more than just gold pieces. The dim light from above revealed bloody necklaces, helmets, and cracked armor pieces salvaged from conclave soldiers that surrounded him like a dark graveyard.

"Vengeance," Demetrius said to himself as he held a stolen necklace up to a sliver of light, the gleam of its beautiful gem stained with its owner's blood.

'"All I can give them now is vengeance…'

"We're off to bigger things now," Captain Veris said gleefully, mesmerized by the blood-soaked gold coins he held in his hand as he stuffed them back into the large sack.

The human was slim, with short, dark hair and a cunning look in his colorful blue eyes. He wore a long, black jacket, and his cutlass was by his side, its handle protruding from its sheath.

"Once we cash this loot in, we'll be rich!"

"This is why I became a pirate—the thrill of taking everything another man has!" said one of the younger pirates, holding a blunderbuss by his side. His outfit nearly imitated his captain's.

He was a young human, an orphan who turned to piracy to find a family.

He was like a son to Captain Veris and was even allowed to execute a conclave general as they left Port Demali, flaying the buildings from its land with firebombs and torches.

"But why are we leaving so soon, captain? We've only been in this town for a couple of days, and there's gotta be more to steal. There's gotta be!"

The other pirates in the room began voicing their agreement. Captain Veris nodded in agreement as well but stood his ground.

"It's true, this town has a pathetic police force. We could probably take the entire concord ourselves if we needed to. But it's not the concord we need to be worried about," said Veris, his voice transitioning into a more serious tone.

"This is the blade's territory, and when he gets wind of what we did in this town, he will be angry. Besides, the Plank king needs us to hunt down the Moonscurge in Xhoras. If we don't leave soon, we'll lose her."

Veris' crew went silent, their loud banter slowly devolving into soft, terrified whispers as their captain spoke.

The orphan joined his fellow pirates in the fearful silence but wasn't sure why his crew was so afraid of one man.

"What's the deal with this 'blade,' huh?" He asked aloud in the same brash tone that had left everyone but him.

"He's just one man, and we've almost killed a hundred already! We've nothing to be worried about!"

"Shut up, kid. If I say he's a problem, he's a problem! We don't need your two senses or your naive attitude. We're heading for Xhoras, and you'll be quiet about it. Do what I say!" Captain Veris snapped in response.

Kal bowed in shame in response, the insult cutting through his heart.

As Captain Veris turned his attention away from the orphan, throwing the bag of gold to the side and beginning to count another, the shame washed away instantly. The orphan became frozen in fear as two malicious eyes peered up at him between the worn wooden floorboards.

He could have sworn he was looking into the eyes of a demon, for he never saw such endless rage compacted into a mortal vessel. He tried to call for his captain, but realization overrode all of his emotions and senses as actions took over words, and he instinctively tried to run. Captain Veris gave the boy a strange look as he stumbled towards him, tripping over his legs weakened by fear. He tried to pull himself up, but it was too late.

Wood and blood burst through the upper deck like a busted wine crate as Demetrius ascended through the floor sword first at the speed of an arrow, taking the boy's flesh airborne with him and landing with perfect athleticism, bloody pieces of the pirate's body along with broken planks of wood raining onto the floor around him. He stood like a statue among men, a half-century of battle scars hidden under the hood of a burgundy red robe towering over them, his left hand gripping a heavy steel greatsword, the rough, thick 6-foot blade partly stuck in the wood under him, blood still running down it.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

As blood splattered into his drink, one of the pirates threw it aside as he fumbled for his gun, eyes wide with terror.

"He… He's here! Kill him! Kill him before he kills us all, dammit!" exclaimed Captain Veris, the loss of his adopted son and the fear of his killer assaulting his mind In a cycle of panic.

Demetrius remained still amidst the abrupt chaos, unphased by the pirates' desperate attempts to retaliate. His hatred-filled eyes scanned the room for a moment like a turret of deadly force honing in on potential targets. He turned to the pirate with the gun, his gaze burning into his soul like a channeled inferno rivaling his bloody sword in the fear it could muster.

"Your heads aren't worth keeping," snarled his hoarse, malicious voice as he quickly lept to the gunslinger with ease and jammed his sword through the man's stomach, lifting him forward and pushing him into the wall, his blade crashing through man's back and penetrating the wood behind him with unaffected force.

A gruesome dance of blood and steel then ensued as Captain Veris watched his crew rip and tear apart at the ruthless will of Demetrius the blade. He stood in petrified silence for what felt like hours, in awe of the blade's wrath upon his crew, before grabbing the heaviest bag of gold he could and attempting to lumber away quickly, hoping Demetrius was too hungry for blood to stop the slaughter.

'They'll keep him busy for long enough,' Veris told himself as he clambered past more crew members up to his captain's quarters, too focused on self-preservation even to warn the confused men of the approaching calamity. He knew it didn't matter.

He threw himself into his quarters and began hastily pushing any furniture he could muster the strength to move in front of the door.

He hid behind his large desk, clinging tightly to his bag of gold as muffled screams began to ring out, pleading for help, and he could hear desperate fists banging against the barricaded door until he could feel the soft force of the banging beneath his feet. But there was a force behind the fists that he could hear and feel much more—the heavy attacks of The Blade. Every swing swayed the floor under his feet like a hurricane, and every strike landed with the force of a Kraken tentacle. And then there was silence. And then, the heavy steps began again, drifting away into silence.

Veris sat back onto the floor with a plop, eyes wide as he looked down at his blood-splattered clothes. None of it was his but that of every man on the front of the main deck. Veris stood up slowly and stumbled towards the barrier, clawing his way to the door and opening it as quickly as he had barricaded it. He fell through the door when he finally forced it open. Dead Pirates littered the deck, some still alive but demoralized, making feudal attempts to function without the limbs they lost moments ago.

"By the gods…" muttered Veris as he quickly drew his gun.

"Where the hell is he?!"

He felt a hand wrap around his ankle and anxiously fired a shot in front of him, falling from the recoil of his blunderbuss. He looked up to see one of his crew members with one of his legs cut clean off and crawling up his leg. Blood cascaded down his face from an ample cut that went from the right corner of his hairline to under his left eyebrow, leaking blood down his eyes and obscuring his vision.

"V-... Veris? Is that you?" The man asked as he clawed his way up to Veris' chest.

Veris threw the man off him and quickly stood to his feet. The one-legged man rolled off him, mindlessly grabbing at the air.

"Don't… Let him hear you…" Said the crew member into blood-induced darkness.

"Shut up!" Screamed Veris as he soccer-kicked the crew member in the stomach with anger, like he was kicking an inanimate object in a fit of rage.

"You idiots really couldn't handle one man?! You're not worth half the gold I paid you! Consider this a refund," Said Veris before shooting the man through the skull, his body going limp, a pool of blood growing under it.

" A good captain never does his dirty work, but it looks like I don't have a choice this time!" Cried Veris, hoping Demetrius hadn't left yet.

"Don't tell me the feared Blade is a coward!" He continued, hoping he wasn't talking to someone that was there.

Suddenly, Veris felt a blade stab him in the back as it rampaged through his insides and out of his stomach. By the time he cried out in pain, nothing but a gurgle of blood spilled from his mouth as he dropped his gun and grabbed the blade out of instinct. Suddenly, it yanked back through his back, and what felt like the foot of a giant pushed into his back, sending him careening into the ground. He rolled onto his back and looked up to see The Blade at the high point of a double-handed swing. He tried to put a hand up, but it was too late. The massive broadsword crashed into the Veris' body, wood and bone breaking under its unstoppable force. The blade then proceeded to beat the man to a pulp, swinging his sword with the force and brutality of a stone club, reveling in the man's fading screams as he hacked and slashed the life out of him, one fury-driven strike at a time.

The blood and gore splattered across the ship's deck, and the gruesome sight of Veris' disfigured remains lay at Demetrius' feet. His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest, fueled by the rage that had driven him to this moment. He stared at the carnage around him, the extinguished lives of the pirates who had pillaged, plundered, and murdered in their quest for riches. But Demetrius knew his journey was far from over. He had not yet avenged his master, nor had he brought justice to the countless innocents who had suffered at the hands of these barbaric outlaws. But the Plank King still lived, and Demetrius could not rest until that was no longer true. As he stood amid the wreckage, Demetrius caught sight of a tattered parchment clutched in the cold, lifeless hand of one of the pirates. He reached down and pried the paper free, revealing a crudely drawn region map. The map showed the location of the pirate's next destination: the city of Xhoras, where they were to rendezvous with the Plank King and aid him in hunting down the moonscurge. He set his sights on Xhoras, resolving to bring the same wrath and vengeance upon the Plank King and his followers as he had on Veris and his crew. With his course set, Demetrius retrieved his greatsword from Veris' mutilated corpse and hoisted it over his shoulder. He strode purposefully through the ship, stepping over the bodies of the fallen pirates as the smell of death and blood hung heavy in the air. Reaching the helm, Demetrius took control of the ship, guiding it toward Xhoras and the next chapter of his bloody crusade. As the ship sliced through the waves, Demetrius contemplated the path that had led him to become the feared and respected blade. When he thought about his past, there was only hardship and loss, but his suffering had only forged him into a formidable warrior. Now, his unwavering sense of justice was all that was left. He would not rest until he had brought every last criminal to pay for their crimes, and the Plank King was the key.