Chapter Ninety-one

‘New plan? What’s wrong with the old plan?’ I asked, having not the faintest what Krissy was thinking.

‘It’s the same plan, really. We’re going to go get the captain. Except you’ll be taking as many of the archers out on the way as you can. On both sides. Leave the rowers for now,’ she said.

‘Good plan,’ I agreed, and I had a distinct feeling that Hank was grumbling something under his breath.

Kiwa nodded as well, and Tilry … well, she was quiet, looking at all the souls around us.

It was probably her first time seeing so many potential meals without having to lament her inability to consume them. And I was determined to help her eat her fill once we achieved our objectives — the rowers weren’t going anywhere, were they?

Then I looked ahead. The galley was long, and we were still near the bow, almost under the foremast. Orks and barbarian elves lined the edges of the deck on both sides, diligently shooting at the navy ships, human slaves running up and down, replenishing their supply of arrows, dodging and jumping over bodies, boxes, crates and sometimes each other — a semi-organised chaos. Based on our previous experience on a galley, I was sure we’d find the captain of this floating hellhole somewhere near the aft where the castle and the cabins were, probably bellowing orders and stuff. But I couldn’t see that far from where we were.

I didn’t have a problem abandoning the rowers on the deck below — I’d eaten more than thirty of them already, causing a stir down there. The orks on the rowers’ deck were running up and down like headless chickens, trying to get the slaves to resume their work, but they didn’t seem to be succeeding. Panic combined with the fact that the Furious Fist and the Righteous Wrath were so close now that there wasn’t enough room to properly operate the oars, caused the galley to lose its main propulsion.

Krissy and Kiwa rushed forward, and the strangest thing happened. I would have thought at least some of the crew would get in our way and try to slay the two, masked spiritualists running amok on the deck. But we made it past the foremast and reached the main mast without anyone or anything getting in our way, despite quite a few of them dropping dead as my tentacles brushed across their lines on both sides. Sure, some of the scattered crates and arrow-riddled bodies were an obstacle, but from the numerous occupants of the galley we didn’t get more than a few angry glances over their shoulders. It was almost as if they wanted us to go and introduce ourselves to their captain. That, or they were more worried about the elven ships, and the marines who looked like they were preparing to board the ork galley. We didn’t have a lot of time, but I was thinning their numbers, and I imagined at least a few marines would be thankful for that.

We ran past the main mast and a stack of crates, and finally I saw the mizzenmast and a group of orks standing in the middle of the deck in front of the stairs leading up to the castle. Four of the green beasts, holding large, round viking-style shields, surrounded the largest ork I’d seen so far, protecting the giant from stray arrows. The head-honcho of the ship, I deduced. He even had a similar tricorn hat Orkuz Graal used to wear, but unlike the late captain of the Graal’s Enourmous Pride, this guy was rocking it. He was barking orders in their gruff language that resembled the growls of a bear more than anything else, and orks, elves and humans ran to obey. A giant, green manifestation of power and authority.

‘That’s our guy!’ I called out, probably unnecessarily.

‘Ooooh! He looks tasty.’ Hank salivated over the sight.

‘We’re to capture the brute,’ Krissy reminded us all.

Our hosts slowed down, deciding to approach the captain and his officers a little more cautiously. The crew was still ignoring us, focusing on sending as many sharp sticks at the elven ships as they could, despite a cute little Tentacle Horror diligently eating their souls as we went.

I was getting full, almost ready to level up. Ten or so orks, six elves, and forty-something humans — thirty-something of which had been rowers — gave me roughly 2800 EXP. Adding that to the 2000 already in the bank, I had 4800 EXP out of the 5700 needed for Level 35. And that was after just a few minutes on an ork galley.

The ork boss noticed the two masked figures approaching, and he fell silent as he turned to face us, only about five metres separating us from him and his retinue. He squinted at us, as if unable to believe his own eyes, then leaned closer to one of his guys and said something that sounded like a question uttered by a boar with a sore-throat.

How do we capture that, boss? Kiwa inquired, her eyes glued to the gigantic ork.

‘I say we eat him.’ Hank suggested as I had expected he would.

Not sure. Kevin? Krissy passed the baton to me.

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I had several ideas, based on how we had dealt with Orkuz Graal, but I had a feeling the “flying spiritualist” trick wouldn’t be enough here, and I also had to keep a close eye on my Mana expenditure — Mana Armour for two people wasn’t cheap, and I didn’t want to sacrifice the protection for something that had a low chance of working. So, it was time to move onto plan B.

I stretched a tentacle towards the big guy, looking for the right place to plunge it into his soul and connect to a node in it.

‘Oh, oh, oh, we’re eating him, we’re eating him!’ Hank cheered like a kid in an amusement park.

‘No we’re not, we’re talking him down.’ I shot him down as I stuck a thread into the appropriate node in the brute’s soul.

The ork captain’s thoughts immediately became audible, overlapping his speech perfectly, providing us with translation.

‘… fuggen ganks on mah ship, I swear ‘em masks are too stoopid.’ Ork Captain finished giving his opinion piece, while the four in his personal retinue were nodding enthusiastically. One of them said something, and the captain replied, ‘Nah, I ain’t killed anythin’ for ages. Them rotten ganks are mine!’

It seemed the captain had adopted quite the hands-on approach to dealing with unwanted guests, and he took a step towards us, drawing a large cutlass-type sword. Krissy and Kiwa fell back into their stances, lifting their weapons, ready for the fight. I coated four of my tentacles with Mana, ready to restrain the brute, keeping the other five free so I could knock the souls out of the others if they got too close, while trying to think of something to say to this giant green menace, something that would make him stand down and surrender. This was going to be tough, I had no doubt, but we had promised to capture the captain alive, and not delivering on that promise wasn’t an option. Oh, the price we had to pay for my levels!

But a certain, self-proclaimed brother of mine had a different plan.

‘Oi, I’m Hank.’ He introduced himself to Ork Captain. Why, I had no idea.

The fuck! Kiwa swore, almost losing her balance for a moment.

‘Great,’ I said, wishing I could strangle him somehow.

Hank, you idiot, what the hell are you doing? Krissy demanded.

‘I’m Hank, and the delicious looking barbarian should know that,’ he explained cheerfully. ‘Because … I’m Hank.’

Oh gods, the ego on this Tentacle Horror was something else. But as annoyed as I was, the sudden conversation foisted upon the unsuspecting ork proved to be a good distraction. Ork Captain stopped in his tracks, looking left and right, trying to find the source of the voices in his head.

‘Who da fugg? Where are ya ganks?’ he bellowed.

‘I’m Hank,’ he repeated his short but to-the-point manifesto.

‘And I’m Raagstrom Raagh!’ the brute gurgled furiously while still searching for the source of the voices.

‘And I’m Hank.’

‘And I’m Raagstrom Raagh.’

‘And I’m Hank.’

Oh, gods help me! Did this battle just devolve into a competition to see who could growl his name louder and harder? I had to put a stop to this, so I too growled the first thing that came to my mind.

‘I’m Batman.’

‘I’m Raagstrom Raagh, ya batfugger gank!’ the ork screamed, his green face turning red. ‘Get off mah ship ya fools!’

‘Sorry, we’re taking your ship.’ I informed him.

‘No-one’s takin’ the Raagh’s Uncontested Might, ya hear me ya stoopid spirit-gank?’ he protested, and to put his thoughts into action, he lunged forward, aiming his cutlass at Kiwa, who was standing a step closer to him than Krissy. The woman dodged as fast as expected from an elven spiritualist, Mana flashing around her here and there.

‘That’s the name of your ship? The Raagh’s Uncontested Might?’ I asked, incredulous. Ork naming conventions were something to behold.

‘It’s pretty much contested now, isn’t it?’ Hank chimed in. Well, he wasn’t wrong.

‘Yeah, more like the “Raagh’s Intolerable Arrogance, or something,’ I offered a suggestion while Krissy batted away a slash of the ork’s weapon, chipping a large chunk out of the dark steel.

She had got better at bending Mana to her will, that was clear as day — the blue sheen on her blade was more focused, and as large and heavy as the captain’s cutlass was, it didn’t stand a chance. Kiwa, not to be outdone, sprung back into action, drawing a huge amount of Tilry’s Mana. She leaped forward, so fast even I could barely see her, and jabbed her Mana-coated blade into Raagstrom Raagh’s forearm.

The ork groaned in pain, but didn’t seem deterred; he steadied himself and selected Kiwa as his next target. He lifted his cutlass high, intending to bring it down on her. Both women were ready to dodge as the ork screamed.

‘Die ya fugger!’

I quickly came to the conclusion there was no talking this guy down, and as regrettable as it was, killing him wasn’t an option either. I could see the marines on the Furious Fist getting some planks ready so they could storm the Raagh’s Unbelievable Stupidity, and I wanted to capture the sizable, greenskinned captain before that. So, as his cutlass began its downward arc towards Kiwa, I stuck two tentacles into his body, and I pulled.

***

I had done this only once before, and not exactly the way I was doing it now. Also, last time it had been a pug, so a considerably smaller — albeit almost as ugly — creature than an ork. Also, I had been drunk at the time. Also, I had no idea if this would actually work, but for a change, I felt positive waves from Hank, as opposed to hearing snarky comments, so I took it as a good sign. Once a Tentacle Horror Instinct, always a Tentacle Horror Instinct.

I pulled Raagstrom Raagh’s soul with one tentacle, separating it from his body, and at the same time I released a large amount of Essence to coat his body and soul with it, then let Jack’s Room and my Spirit-Room do their thing respectively and pull a single being into two different storage rooms — one physical, one spiritual. There was a little bit of conflict between the two rooms, though; since both were a part of my actual body in the Spirit World, pulling two things through the Black Essence portal simultaneously added a couple of extra seconds to the normally instantaneous process. Finally, something I could consider normal about the portal — I still didn’t understand why the damned thing had no problem sucking physical objects as large as an ork through it, as well as souls, but apparently wasn’t large enough for my consciousness to travel freely between the two realms, not without some extra Black Essence. What even was consciousness? Was it a thing that had some sort of size and weight larger and heavier than a body or a soul? Well, I supposed this wasn’t really the time to ponder questions like this, and in the end the result of this stunt was satisfactory: Raagstrom Raagh disappeared from the face of the Earth. Or whatever this world or planet was called.