“I thought we were docking at a castle,” Qing said, staring at the shore and the castle ruins that sat atop rocky cliffs, its stones blackened and crumbling. The dense jungle, stretching as far as they could see, had overtaken the shore, and only a few thick logs remained standing from what could have once been a dock.

“No. We are dropping you near where a castle once stood,” Captain Thundershield said, clapping Qing on the back. “And then we are getting the Hell out of here. I don’t know what could have taken out Sylvanwatch, and I don’t care to find out.”

Qing’s stomach churned as he surveyed the scene. They had counted on securing support from the castle, through persuasion, connection, coin, or threat. Now they faced a hike straight into unknown territory, and a jungle no less. And that was just to get to Hell’s entrance.

How the hell are we going to survive this?

He turned to Captain Thundershield. “We’ll need your ship to stay. Once we return from Hell we will require transportation back to…civilisation.”

And if things go wrong, I don’t want us to be standing on shore, demons chasing after us, and without a ride.

The captain’s face twisted as if he’d smelled a gangrenous foot. “I’ll give you both our rowboats to ferry supplies to shore, and you can keep the boats, but I’m not waiting around. My job was to take you here, no more.”

Ghida turned to face the captain head on and asked, “If you were the one going ashore, would you let the ship leave, stranding you in a strange land with god knows what awaits?”

“Listen, princess. I—”

Before the man could finish, Qing grabbed him and delivered a swift punch to his face, knocking him out cold.

Ghida protested, and all movement on deck stopped. Qing held up a hand. “It’s for the right reason,” he said to Ghida. “We need the ship to stay in case something goes wrong. Bringing the captain is our insurance.”

Morgana laughed and turned to the ship’s first mate. “You heard that? The captain ordered you to wait until his return.” She leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder, lowering her voice. “However long it takes.”

The first mate glanced around the deck, looking among the sailors. Morgana tapped her palm against his face, bringing his attention back. “Right?”

“Of course, miss,” the man said, teeth clenched.

Aria, leaning on the railing, having just finished feeding the fishes her latest meal, asked, “What is to stop them from just leaving once we’re off? I’ve never heard of honour among thieves.”

“We are not thieves,” a sailor said. “We are honest to god pirates.”

“And that’s better how?”

“We live by a code.”

“What does the code say about sailing away and leaving the captain?” she asked.

The man opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came forth, and he looked at the first mate. “I’m not sure.”

Rowan’s eyes lit up. “I have an idea.” He strode to the map room, returning moments later with the ship’s compass and rolled-up maps. “For the inventory, boss,” he said, handing them to Qing.

Item: [Elrydisan Compass, Level 1, Normal]

Item: [Elrydisan Map, Level 1, Normal] x 3

The sailors, realizing what was happening, drew their cutlasses in protest. Jenny chuckled, dropping a crate to the deck and hefting Tidecaller, her new axe. The blade forged from a kraken’s tooth shone in the sun, and it whistles menacingly as she gave it a spin. “I’ve been wanting to baptize this beauty. My axes haven’t got a new sibling in over a decade. Let the first man step forward and state his name. I’ll remember it for the future celebration of my axe’s birthday.”

“Hold on, Jenny. No need for bloodshed,” Qing said, waving her back and stepping to the center of the deck.

Not yet, anyway. Not if I can convince them.

He turned in a circle, addressing the assembled crew. “I understand your fear. The uncertainty of waiting here, not knowing what is happening to you. Your destiny held in the hands of others. I’ve felt that same fear many times. You might think doing anything would be better. Like sailing aimlessly into the ocean without a compass and maps, hoping to stumble upon civilization before you run out of food and water. But sometimes, bravery is sitting still, doing nothing in the face of fear.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. “You might ask yourselves, what happens if we don’t come back from Hell? Let me tell you, if we fail, the lack of maps will do you no harm because the entire world will be doomed. Your families slaughtered, your lands burned. But when we do return, having saved the world, we will do so as heroes. And you will no longer be pirates. You’ll get a full pardon and enough gold to buy a house, a farm, or enough companions to shag yourselves to death. Because you will be heroes.”

“Heroes of Qing’s quest,” Morgana said, nodding.

Qing looked around at the gathered sailors, seeing several nod at one another. “Now, who is with me?”

Two-thirds of the sailors thrust their weapons into the air, shouting their approval. Qing nodded, satisfied.

Now for the next step.

“Step forward and form a line to receive the Kraken Slayer’s blessing. It will help keep you safe until our return.”

The sailors who had cheered, complied, while the rest shuffled their feet and shoot angry glares at him and his companions. Once the line had formed and the sailors had split themselves into two groups, Qing turned to the naysayers. Voice hardening, he said, “The rest of you, gather by the rail. Now.” He equipped his halberd, the weapon materializing in his hands. “Rowan, Jenny, Aria – liberate them off their weapons.”

The first mate stepped forward, his face red with anger. “You can’t do this. This is mutiny!”

Qing’s eyes flashed. “I don’t care what you call it. I cannot and will not trust you, so you’re coming with us.”

A shout went up from the sailors, both those in line and those who had objected. Qing’s patience snapped. “Enough!” he barked, his voice cracking like a whip. “Enough of your cowardice and your selfishness. Do you not understand what’s at stake? What we’re doing for the greater good?”

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Blood thundered in Qing’s ears as he stepped towards the first mate, who refused to back down, his hand on his whip. “I will not leave my post and surrender this ship to—”

Magic Missiles flashed out from Qing, catching the man in the face, chest, and shoulder. Blood splattered across the deck as he collapsed.

“Jenny,” Qing said, his voice eerily calm.

“Got it.” She walked across the now deadly silent deck and gripped the body by its belt, lifting it one-handed and walking towards the railing.

“Wait!” shouted one of the men who had cheered and lined up. He rushed past Qing, hands raised. “Just wait a moment.” He approached Jenny cautiously, as if wary of spooking a bear, not wanting to tip himself from the category of ‘amusing moving thing’ into ‘food’ or ‘threat’.

Slowly, he reached for the dead man’s whip, unbuckled it, and snapped the hilt in two before throwing the whip part overboard. He showed the bottom to Qing. “It’s the key to the collars,” he said, before raising it high.

“Collars?” Ghida asked, confusion evident in her voice.

The sailor nodded, his eyes pleading. “Please, put it to my neck. You’ll see, Princess.”

Ghida did as requested, and as soon as the piece touched the man’s skin, a black metallic collar appeared as if from thin air, clattering to the deck. The sailor sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands, and cried. “Thank you,” he mumbled, over and over.

Qing looked aghast at the other sailors, then turned to Morgana. “Did you know about this?”

She shook her head and turned to glare at her father. “No. If I did, I would have returned long ago to shove a knife in his back.”

The sailors who hadn’t lined up shuffled closer, clumping up. Qing walked over and offered a hand to the kneeling sailor, helping him up. “Let me guess. The sailors in line wear collars, and those over there do not?”

The man nodded, sniffling and wiping his nose. “Yes. Captain Thundershield is always careful, never letting the crew contain more than two-thirds slaves.”

“Why use slaves in the first place?” Qing asked, his brow furrowed.

“We get no cut of treasures, only food and water. After five years, if we survive, we’re released.”

The bastard. He hid it under our nose the entire time.

“Why didn’t you tell us before? I would have freed you long ago.”

“I didn’t know, sir. When you came here with the captain’s daughter, and the daughter of King Sharyar…How could you not know? Slaves built the Gilded Hold.”

“That will all change once Princess Ghida takes the throne, won’t it?” Qing asked.

She nodded. “Yes. You have received my word, Qing, and I will stand by it.”

A thrill ran through him, and he found himself unable to contain a massive smile.

This feeling must be why people seek power. It’ll be amazing to leave Elrydisan better than it was when I arrived. As long as we stop the apocalypse.

Qing collected the piece of the whip and handed it to the kneeling man. “Free the others. Pick out whoever you need to run the ship and keep it here until I return. You’re in charge now. Keep the others under control, but do not retaliate.”

The man accepted the key, raising it in the air. The lined up sailors cheered three times, each louder than the last.

While Jenny, Rowan, and Aria gathered weapons from the second group of sailors, Qing, Morgana, and Ghida gathered around the incapacitated Captain Thundershield, the celebration of men being freed accompanying them.

“What do you want to do with him?” Qing asked Morgana.

She hesitated, and looked up at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlines. When she spoke, her voice quivered. “No. You can’t do this to me.”

“Can’t do what? Leave his fate up to you? I thought from how you’ve talked about him before you’d relish having his life in your hands.”

“A few months ago, yes. But now... Don’t you see? Part of me wants to kill him, throw him away for the mental torture he put me through. He deserves to die. Now more than ever. But what would that do to me?”

“That is not the—”

“Let her finish,” Ghida said, interrupting Qing.

“Thank you, sister.” Morgana reached out a hand, and the princess took it, giving it a quick squeeze. “Think Qing. What would it say about my chances for redemption if I butcher him without giving him a similar chance?”

Qing nodded, understanding dawning on his face. “I see your point. But there’s one thing you seem to have forgotten. You took the first step towards redemption by yourself, fighting to help save Shadowgrove when everything seemed lost. That’s why I accepted you into the party. He, on the other hand, has done nothing that doesn’t serve his own interests. He was here for gold and a pardon, and only fought the Kraken when he had to, and he showed today that he’d dump us at the first chance. Not to mention his ship is crewed by slaves. None of that speaks to deserving a second chance.”

Morgana’s face drew tight, and she had to clear her throat twice before speaking. “All right,” she said, voice breaking.

“But if you want, I’ll make the decision,” Qing said.

She shook her head. “No, I’ve made up my mind. We bring him. Let’s take him into Hell and show him what it’s like.” A smile crept onto her face. “It might be a fitting journey for him.” Then she kicked him in the stomach, hard enough to hurt but soft enough not to harm.

Then she patted him down, removing a knife from a boot, a foldable handheld crossbow from the small of his back, a set of lock picks from his coat pocket, the rapier-like sword from his hip, and three more throwing knives from his left arm. Finally, she tugged on his hat. When it wouldn’t budge, she took out the knife and cut the top off.

“Ha!” she exclaimed. “I knew it. He’s bald.”

“So?” Qing asked.

“He’s hiding it under a hat. He should have owned it, the way Knut does. Maybe he’d be dating a queen too, then,” Morgana said with a chuckle.

“Hey,” Ghida said, “please do not talk of my mother and your friend. It…just, not yet.”

“Oh yeah,” Morgana said, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

As she left them to fetch irons, Ghida watched the captain while Qing turned his attention back to the freed sailors. The atmosphere on the deck had shifted dramatically. Where there had been tension and fear before, now there was a palpable sense of relief and cautious hope.

“Alright, listen up,” Qing said, his voice carrying across the deck. “We’ve got a lot to do and not much time to do it. I need a full inventory of our supplies, a list of everyone staying with the ship, and who’s coming with us.”

As the freed sailors bustled about, following Qing’s orders, he felt a tug on his sleeve. It was the sailor who had revealed the secret of the collars.

“Sir,” the man said, his voice still shaky from emotion, “I... we... thank you. You don’t know what this means to us.”

Qing nodded and smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Pete, sir.”

“Well, Pete, I’m trusting you with the ship. Can you keep control here until we return?”

Pete straightened, determination in his eyes. “Yes, sir. You can count on us.”

As Pete moved away to organise the other freed sailors, Qing felt a presence at his side. It was Cedric, his ancient eyes surveying the scene with a mixture of approval and concern.

“Well done, boy,” Cedric said. “But do not lose focus. Freeing the men, while noble, does it lead us closer to completing our mission?”

“It felt right.”

“Good things often do. But that does not make masturbation a worthwhile use of your time.”

Qing glanced weirdly at the wizard.

“I do not trust easy choices,” Cedric said. “Only hard choices have led me true. And I expect you will have to make tougher choices than leaving men in chains before this is over. Do not sacrifice the world to save a few.”

“You sound like Rufus.”

Lightning sparked across the bridge of Cedric’s nose, and his eyes narrowed dangerously, sending Qing back a step. “Careful, boy. Do not compare the misguided preaching of a fallen coward, words dipped in poison and covered in honey, with the wisdom of the ancients.”

“I’m just—”

“If a thief tells you to lock your doors, and a guard tells you the same, do you leave your home unprotected because the thief’s advice matched the guard’s? Evil hides behind a veil of duty, righteousness, and wisdom. That does not negate the truth when spoken by the righteous.”

“Of course not. I’m just—”

“Then watch your tongue. Do not liken me to that festering boil on the arse of humanity.” Cedric turned and walked away, cursing under his breath. “A spineless, despicable, fungus-like growth. A parasitic abomination…”

Qing was left standing, speechless.

I guess he’s still a tad sore about the fact that his nemesis lived under his nose for a decade or more.

With a shake of his head, centring himself, Qing clapped his hands together. “Alright, everyone. Let’s get ready to move out. We’ve got a world to save.”

* * *

Three hours later, as the last rays of daylight faded, Qing stood at the bow of the rowboat, laden to the brim with supplies, as they caught the tide.

The beach loomed ahead, and they rowed past the skeleton of a sunken ship, the remaining wood covered in barnacles.

What was that?

He squinted at the jungle, staring at where he could have sworn he’d seen movement.

That better not be some freaky welcoming party. The demonic kraken was enough excitement for a week.