The pirates, shaking off their initial shock, rushed Keziah once more. Filled with a need to survive and a desire to avenge their fallen comrade, they saw through a red mist formed before their eyes. Reason and logic were lost. Replaced by anger and desperation. And Keziah wouldn't want it any other way.
The first attack came as an overhead swing of a saber. Keziah dodged to the side and brought Augustus down on the overzealous pirate. The slash cut through his skin, muscle, and ribs, leaving him falling face-first into the wooden floor.
Pivoting back to a position that would place him between the rushing pirates and Edward, Keziah glanced at the other two sailors. They have engaged in a battle themselves, trying to hold to the staired entrance to the captain's life. Keziah let the mana flow inside him. Just a tiny bit. It would be a long fight and he wouldn't want to end up without his biggest advantage over White souls.
The "Little Spark" lived up to his — sometimes embarrassing — nickname, as blue light flickered around him. The night sky only amplified the light it gave off, and the pirates didn't miss it.
"Fucking mage!" yelled a half-toothless pirate wearing an unbuttoned vest. He swung his sword at Keziah in either fear or resentment. Kez caught the blade with his own, cutting halfway through it. He jerked the joined blades and the pirate was left without a weapon. Keziah quickly unstuck the two swords and using the pommel of Augustus he knocked the man out, followed by a kick which sent him into the railing and due to his momentum — overboard.
The pirates, apparently being tired of going after him one by one, rushed him together. Keziah, to their surprise, did the same. He did not wish to be overrun or surrounded, so he made the first move. He slashed sideways at a pirate to his right, who barely managed to block it. A cut then appeared on Keziah's left shoulder. He left it exposed for half a second too long.
Pushing his body to the limits with electricity, he sidestepped any more damage coming from the left, and continuing the motion, he struck with a left elbow and crushed the side of the skull belonging to the pirate who blocked his attack. He then, stepping back, slashed the throat of the enemy closest to him so fast he didn't even react.
Then he got hit by an arrow.
It got stuck in his right shoulder. Before he could break it off, or at least look at where it came from, a hiss passed right by him, missed Edward and lodged itself with a thunk in the eye socket of one of the sailors.
Keziah turned to look at the pirate ship, where he spotted the man who took over after the dead captain. He was holding a short bow, knocking another arrow. This time Keziah was ready, and when the opportunist man released the arrow he knocked it out of the air with Augustus.
He wasn't allowed to prepare himself for another shot, as more pirates came at him. He dispatched all who tried to get past him while glancing at the bow user. He threw his bow away with a shake of his head, took out his sword, and joined the melee. It was alright with Keziah.
With a sideways swing, he got rid of all the attackers on his side. Corpses laid at his feet, blood pools alone were enough to slip over. He took a much-needed breath and traced the additional slash that he took to the abdomen. Fortunately, it wasn't deep enough to reach the organs, just the skin.
With that settled, Keziah turned to the remaining sailor. He was barely holding on. Edward still wasn't fit. Mentally, that is. Physically he was fine, but mana exhaustion is comparable to the worst hangover of your life multiplied by ten. He was still dazed and leaning on the railing, sweat dripping from his nose.
The battle at the main deck looked to be still undecided, so Keziah joined the other defender of Edmund, hoping to flank the main battle after dealing with his attackers.
The man was bleeding from multiple wounds, his guard low but the grip on his sword was hard as iron. Adrenaline's doing. Keziah could sense his exhaustion. Three pirates tried their luck at him, attacking from the narrow staircase, and he defended as much as he could, trying to keep them in this small area. Were he to back even one step, they would have enough space to get out of the stairs and around him.
Keziah dashed past the wheel, jumped into the railing that conjoined the two staircases, and kicked one of the three attackers in the face. Unpredictability combined with his speed made for an unblockable first attack that delivered such force that the pirate was carried on and over the railing. The splash of his body hitting the water was barely audible amid the shouts and clanking of swords.
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Keziah jumped off the railing and engaged with the two other remaining pirates on the stairs. He blocked and parried the onslaught of sword strikes aimed to end his annoying resistance. The wounded sailor stood behind him. Keziah couldn't truly blame him for taking advantage of the situation and trying to catch some breath. If he was in his place he would do the same.
Well, he would wait as long as possible so that the opponent would be more tired, but still, more or less the same.
His mana was still enough to carry him through some more fighting so he continued to enhance his body via the electricity. He was faster than the pirates but there were two of them. And they seemed like they were fresh. They slashed and stabbed without a break, forcing Keziah on the defensive. He just had to wait for his opening.
The pirates were getting tired and Keziah managed to sneak some strikes in. It was a more balanced fight with the two sides exchanging blows evenly. Keziah was mostly using a style that was familiar to his opponents. He was using Augustus as just another saber, scimitar, or any other blade with a curve. Many slashes, but not a lot of thrusts. It was a style that suited a blade used in targets without any plate armor. Ideal for sea battles.
But just as soon as Keziah detected their breath getting heavier, he started using Augustus's shape to his advantage. He just wished that they could finally bond and Augustus would Awaken and change his shape to something that suited Keziah and not one of his ancestors.
In a move that seemed silly in theory, Keziah pushed his blade forwards, as if he was holding a longsword and trying to stab. The pirate on the right tried to parry it, swinging his own cutlass upwards, hoping to push it out of the way and leave Keziah momentarily open.
Just as the pirate's sword was about to hit, Keziah flicked his wrist and the tip of Augustus was now on the left, cutting the side of the throat of the pirate off guard. Panic in his eyes, he put a hand to the cut, blood flowing through his fingers.
With a swift motion, Keziah swung Augustus right, cutting off the arm at the elbow of the pirate who hit nothing but air trying to parry the initial thrust. Keziah kicked the panicked-eye pirate to the torso and made him join his companions in the sea. As he was about to finish the armless pirate, he heard a scream. A girl's scream.
*****
A few moments earlier.
Annette was locked inside a room. Again. A story of her life. This time at least she knew it wouldn't be forever. And she had someone to talk to.
"Do you think we are winning?" she asked, somewhat anxiously.
"I don't know," replied Scoyl, "I've never really been in a battle. It's hard to tell just from the sounds."
"Really? But you are so good with swords." Annette was doubtful. "You must have been in some fights before," she added, all with a hushed voice.
"In fights, yes," Scoyl said, eyes in the door, sword, and dagger in hand. "In battles, not really."
"I-I think it's still most probably undecided," a voice sounded from the back room.
"Oh, right, this guy." Annette pretended to have forgotten about the bespectacled man. "What's he doing here?" she asked Scoyl, ignoring the man himself.
"I—"
"I think he is a navigator or some such," Scoyl cut him off. "What are you doing here?" he then asked him.
"Well, as you have correctly surmised, I am the eyes and ears of this ship. The compass that guides—"
"Yeah, yeah we get it, old man. Get to the point." Annette waved his metaphors off, though it was hard to see her gestures in the dark room.
"Right," the man coughed, trying to reset his introduction, "I'm hiding here because I'm not much of a fighting man. I can read the stars, and help with paperwork, but swinging a sword… is not really my forte."
"I can believe that," concurred Annette.
She held her practice sword in her hands, her fingers twitching and tapping it nervously. She talked big with ease but in reality, she felt scared and on edge. Small, locked spaces were where her nightmares often would be. She wasn't exactly fearful of them themselves, but more of what came with it. The loneliness. The isolation.
Scoyl being there with her helped a lot. She was mostly concerned with the outcome of the battle and not with the creeping sense of coldness and nothingness. She liked him. Not romantically, of course. He was much older and most likely not at all interested in… any relationship besides being Kez's hype man. Keziah had apparently saved his life or something so Annette guessed it made sense that he idolized him.
Or maybe he did actually fall in love with Keziah? It was hard to tell with Scoyl sometimes.
She knew him for not even two weeks, but she thought that knowing what Scoyl feels will never be easy. Keziah was much better at this than her. He somehow seems to always know what someone is thinking. Talking to him can feel like you could stay silent for the whole conversation and he still would come out of it with everything he wanted to know.
A sudden commotion close to the door took Annette out of her thoughts. It seemed like the battle had come closer to them.