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Salt and Blood [A Pirate LitRPG]
1.22 - Pruning the Pack

1.22 - Pruning the Pack

The weak often gather in great numbers to resist the strong. Most of the time it is a futile effort borne of cowardice or desperation. The world is cruel to the masses in more ways than one. Then again, what predator is more feared in the forests than the humble wolf? Pack hunters, yet none would dare look down on them.

-Excerpt from ‘Bleakmoore’s Bestiary’ by Aron Bleakmoore

This time, Rose would not let carelessness get the better of her. The alpha heard her approach but with its left eye destroyed, was unable to truly catch her movements.

Her blade cut deep, though limited by its length. It was just a dagger.

And yet grand empires had fallen to the bite of a dagger. Right now, what fell was a most fearsome wolf.

Skill up!

Blades 2 > 3

A fountain of blood spurted out from the alpha’s neck as the dagger slipped in. The beast buckled and tried to tear away from the wound, but she wrapped an arm around its neck and jammed her weapon deeper.

Skill up!

Blades 3 > 4

Skill up!

One Handed Weapons 3 > 4

The splashes washed through her ears, but Rose ignored the whorls as she had done for a while now. They were becoming a frequent occurrence, more than she had ever been taught to expect.

It was a comforting sound. The washing of waves reminded her of the shores of the Emerlan Isle. Her father would be out casting his net right now, waiting for the fattest fish to fall afoul of his trap. Her mouth curled into a half smile.

Even when the wolf went limp and she saw the light of sentience fade from its one remaining eye, Rose didn’t remove her dagger. She dug deeper and wiggled it around. Brutal, but she wasn’t going to take another chance.

Not when she could see the rest of the pack already advancing on her, yapping and snapping their jaws and raking their claws across the shimmering blue moss.

Another message, asking her if she wanted to harvest the corpse of the alpha. She ignored it for now. There would be time to take stock of their spoils once they had won. If they won.

The first of the wolves threw itself at her. It was a furious ball of claws and teeth and matted grey fur.

Heat exploded down her arm as it tore into her soft skin. Heat exploded from the barrel of her flintlock pistol and the wolf’s brains splattered across the moss.

Skill up!

Pistols 5 > 6

A familiar tang tickled her nostrils as she sliced into the next wolf. Rose was beginning to like the scent of burnt gunpowder.

Compared to their tenacious alpha, the rest of the pack were weak, frail creatures. Rose was no brave buccaneer, but even she was able to cut them like a scythe through wheat.

Skill up!

Blades 4 > 5

Skill up!

One Handed Weapons 4 > 5

Zyip. She stumbled as a blast of energy rippled through the clearing. A gentle ring whined in her ears. One of the wolves needled at her calf.

Skill up!

Blades 5 > 6

Zyiip. The second blast sent her tumbling to the mossy ground. The radiant blue shimmer forced her eyes closed until she was able to struggle back to her feet.

Rose looked around the clearing, now littered with the corpses of foolish canines. There were none left. Zap.

Magic was not something the people of Emerlan Isle were familiar with. Even the gifted weather-witches were seers in name alone.

Even to a bumpkin like her the raw force of the world’s energy that crackled and burnt in the clearing was blindingly clear.

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The crystalline flower bud was positively radiant, like an azure sun. Trent had one hand placed against the surface and his face was contorted. He roared in defiance of the majestic power that sought to consume him.

Flakes of skin and flesh burnt away with each passing moment. Rose could smell burning once more, but this time it was the little hairs in her nose and not the powder in her pistol.

All around them the forest exploded with life and colour. A single colour, but in infinite shades.

Electric blue carpeted the ground, the trees a silky royal blue, their canopies turned from verdant green to vibrant cerulean. Something tickled her foot.

What happened to my shoes? One of the little blue crabs skittered away from her bare foot, now painted with blood and dirt.

A blazing corona of the most blindingly brilliant blue Rose had ever seen exploded across the clearing.

She wasn’t sure if her eyes were open or shut, but it didn’t seem to matter. The light had seared itself onto her retinas. Still she heard a tinny whining in her ears. Shut up! Go away. Let me see.

You have learned a new skill!

Arcane Attunement 0 > 1

You have learned a new skill!

Light Attunement 0 > 1

Skill up!

Light Attunement 1 > 2

Skill up!

Endurance 1 > 2

Instead of ringing she now had the deafening echo of waves crashing through her head. It was a welcome change of pace, though she would’ve preferred something closer to silence.

And the new skills were confusing. They often were, but this time Rose didn’t even have the faintest clue what they meant.

At least with new skills in the past she could guess at their effect from the name. Unarmed combat for instance—it made her better at fighting. Unarmed. Simple and concise.

She had never even heard or read the word attunement until now. Trent would know the answer. He always seemed to have knowledge beyond the scope of a mere pirate. Trent!

Rose remembered her companion. He had been right beside the object when it exploded. Come to think of it, had it exploded?

The sudden brilliance had certainly felt like an explosion, but she was still standing, albeit a little disoriented.

“Trent?” she called out, her voice trembling. “Are you alright?”

All that she received in reply was eerie silence.

The edges of her vision were tainted blue and the air was thick with shimmering webs of azure light.

Instead of waiting around for a response that might never come, she stumbled in the direction she remembered Trent and the crystal being.

It was a thoroughly strange experience, moving through the webs. They were intangible—she had tried to grab one and her hand slipped right through.

Slipped was perhaps the wrong word. It was slimy and made her skin break out in goosebumps when it touched her. Viscous. That was the right word. Her hands sludged through the webs and she made steady progress onwards.

“Trent, can you hear me? Are you alive?” she said. Her voice was steady now and her steps measured and decisive.

Being around this much magic was terrifying, but Rose had a feeling that it meant her no harm. It was just… there. In much the same way the sun burned with enough heat to incinerate her a thousand times over but by the time its rays reached her they only gave her skin a gentle kiss.

Skill up!

Light Attunement 2 > 3

Finally, when she glooped her way through the fourth web, she found the man she was looking for.

His hair was spiked and charred black, with tints of blue here and there. One of his eyebrows had been singed off and the other was barely clinging on. His clothes were surprisingly undamaged, but his eyes positively glittered with glee.

He hadn’t noticed her arrival at first, those joyful eyes locked on something invisible. A whorl of the tide, no doubt. There was no sign of the crystal. Maybe it did explode?

“Rose! There you are. Where are the monsters?” he asked.

Her shoulders loosened and she exhaled, not knowing she had been holding her breath. His first act had been to ask about her safety, or at least it seemed that way.

“Dead,” she replied. She took the powder satchel from her belt and waved it in front of him. “I need more gunpowder. And a bath. I hope that was worth it. The aftereffects are certainly… sticky.”

“Oh, yes. They do tend to have interesting defence mechanisms. Don’t worry, I managed to harvest it successfully. Well, I failed once, but that’s to be expected when it comes to such a high quality Tidestone. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said.

“Wait, let me harvest the wolves first. I still have three empty spaces in my inventory.”

“Smart girl, you learn fast. We’ll be rich if we make it out. We should make it out, I can smell the exit now that there isn’t the energy of the stone interfering.”

“You can smell—never mind,” she said. Trent was a man with a lot of quirks. She would be there for a year if she tried to figure each one out. “Give me a second.”

She returned to the corpse of the alpha. It was the only one which tingled when she drew near. None of the other wolves had a treasure worth taking. They were mere monsters.

And unlike before, when they had rushed the harvest of the stag, she could take everything her fallen foe had to offer.