With a piercing cry, the men of the Diana leaped onto the deck of the Navy ship. Gunshots rang out, the sharp reports blending with the crashing of the waves. Some pirates, struck down, fell like stones, disappearing into the churning waters of the open sea.
Luna dashed along the splintered railing, jumped, twisted in midair, and landed on the enemy deck. No sooner had her feet touched the planks than a gunner appeared, wielding an iron bar like an improvised hammer.
The bar came down hard, but Luna dodged at the last moment, tilting her body to the side. The sailor stumbled forward, off balance, and she saw her opening.
"Now! Don’t let them regroup!" she shouted to her crew, her voice sharp with urgency and command.
Her sword gleamed under the setting sun, tracing a precise arc. The blow struck the man’s hand, knocking the iron bar from his grasp. He cried out, retreating, but another sailor was already closing in, this one armed with a spear.
The spear’s tip shot forward with speed, and Luna tried to pivot aside. Still, the blade tore through her shirt and sliced her skin. The warmth of blood trickling down her arm sharpened the pain, but she didn’t falter.
The sailor’s wide, fear-filled eyes reminded her they were human, like her, with families waiting back home. Aiming carefully, she struck the shaft of the spear, not wanting to kill but to disarm. As the weapon clattered to the ground, she followed up with a kick to the man’s chest, sending him sprawling with a heavy thud.
Before she could catch her breath, another sailor appeared from the side, his strike arcing downward toward her left shoulder. She retreated several steps, feeling the blade slice the air mere inches from her face.
In a swift turn, her sword whistled through the air and struck the attacker’s arm with the flat of the blade.
"Out of my way!" she roared, her voice thick with rage and exhaustion.
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With a horizontal slash, she forced back two opponents advancing together. She lunged to her left, crouching just in time to evade another strike. Without missing a beat, she rose into a fierce counterattack, the impact of her blow knocking the sword from yet another sailor’s grip. He stood frozen, helpless, as his weapon skidded across the blood-slicked deck.
The ship was chaos—a tangle of men stumbling, shoving, fighting for space—but Luna stood firm. Her voice cut through the clamor of battle:
"Push forward! Don’t stop!"
Her shout was a spark that ignited the pirates of the Diana. They surged ahead with wild cries, and for a moment, the Navy’s defensive line wavered. From the sides to the bow, pirates emerged from every corner, weapons glinting in the flickering light of the flames—swords, daggers, and axes gleaming menacingly.
The Navy’s riflemen managed one last volley, but the chaos was overwhelming. The relentless press of the pirates left no time to reload. Defeated, the sailors dropped their muskets, drawing short swords instead, but their hesitant steps betrayed their nerves. Their faces were set in grim determination, yet uncertainty shone in their eyes.
On the main deck, desperate sailors scrambled to form a defense. Swords clashed with bursts of sparks, while axes tore through flesh and bone with sickening cracks. Men and women fell, their cries muffled by the relentless thunder of boots trampling over the bodies of both allies and enemies. The blood-slicked wooden planks turned treacherous, a grim trap, as the thick, dark liquid spread like a living curse.
Near the ship’s edges, fierce duels raged without pause. The sounds of blows landing and guttural growls echoed like the roars of beasts locked in combat. The air grew heavy, saturated with the acrid stench of gunpowder, the metallic tang of blood, and the smoke of burning wood.
Luna moved through the chaos like an unstoppable force. Her sword shimmered with an intense, almost otherworldly blue light, contrasting sharply with the vivid orange of the flames. In mere moments, she carved a path through the fray, leaving in her wake disarmed, defeated sailors too beaten to fight on.
And then, Captain Johny appeared before her.
The ship groaned under the fury of the waves, as if protesting the violence consuming it. Luna, however, refused to take a life. She wouldn’t stop others from crossing that line, but something deep within her resisted. It was a barrier she wasn’t ready to break.
On the horizon, the low, amber sun seemed indifferent to the chaos below. Heavy clouds drifted across the sky, and the first drops of rain began to fall, mingling with the blood and sweat pooling along the ship’s battered edges.