Frederick sighed tiredly as he stood guard at the ship’s bow. Darkness was all he could see up ahead, the only source of natural light being the stars, which were slightly visible through the parting clouds above. Still, he could hear the black waves hitting the ship’s hull, the deck shifting in response to the sea’s movements.
Frederick was used to it. The aging man had been at sea for the last few months, acting as this ship’s guard for a while now. He was a mercenary for hire, bought out by some merchant to protect the Delphine and her cargo. Yet despite this job paying good, as well as the low risk of it all, Frederick was miserably bored.
‘I would gladly take on pirates. Even a small orc detachment would do,’
The mercenary sighed again, his gaze looking over at the dark abyss that was the sea. Frederick couldn’t even see what was out there, with how dark the night was. The moonlight that peered slightly through the clouds did little outside of being pretty. Outside the range of the lanterns, Frederick couldn’t see a damn thing.
‘Not like there’s anything out there,’
Frederick knew full well that this part of Valenfrost rarely held any dangers. The only threats he could think of were the small gangs of pirates and the occasional sea leviathan. Even then, those dangers were rare and only getting rarer as the Lumen Kingdom’s influence grew across Northern Valenfrost.
‘Soon enough, and there’ll probably be no dangers left in Valenfrost. No jobs either,’
The bitter thought was enough to make the mercenary spit out into the black waters. While Lumen control was years away, Frederick was no fool. With the fall of Halvorson, the only clans left to keep order in Valenfrost were bickering dolts who’d rather die than band together. The only clan that could match up to Yorn’s strength was Redyr, and even that seemed impossible.
Valenfrost was a sinking ship, and Frederick was a rat that needed an out. The mercenary would probably have to move again, possibly to Azurvale once more.
‘I could probably take my chances with Vindis. Gods know those people would rather die than be under Lumen control. Then again, there’s the chance the Royal Army will just burn the damn city to the bottom of the black sea.’
Frederick decided to take his chances in Azurvale. While the Lumen Kingdom was a major empire, he knew well that they didn’t expand across the entire continent of Azurvale. The mercenary can probably find work in the Far East, possibly in the dwarven lands or, at best, the neighboring continent of Kasan.
Just as Frederick decided on his future plans of action, his ears caught the sound of faint footsteps walking up behind him. The mercenary turned quickly to the source, instantly meeting face-to-face with the young son of the merchant who hired him.
“Adam. You really have to stop sneaking up on people like that,” Frederick warned with a sigh. He turned back to the open ocean again, his hand relaxing on the hilt of his sword.
“You knew it was me before you spotted me,” Adam laughed. He went to sit on top of a nearby crate, his hand carrying an apple he definitely stole from the cargo area.
“Why are you awake? It’s about three hours from sunrise.” Frederick asked. He raised an eyebrow at the teenager, who shrugged as he took a bite from the apple.
“Who knows? Maybe I’m just dedicated to the family business,” Adam shrugged before giving Frederick an innocent grin. Frederick held back a smile of his own. He knew that the fourteen-year-old was not really dedicated to his father's business.
“It’s because you’re excited about our destination, correct?” Frederick asked. He could see how Adam’s gaze moved to the dark sea, avoiding eye contact.
“It’s that woman at Yorktown, isn’t it? The one we traded herbs and potions with during late Bloom?” the mercenary prodded. Almost instantly, Adam’s cheeks turned the same shade as the apple he was holding, which more than confirmed Frederick’s suspicions.
“Isn’t she ten years your senior?” The mercenary asked, almost in a teasing sort of way. He allowed himself to smile now that he knew the poor kid had a hopeless crush.
“Yes, but…age is just a number!” Adam retorted, already defending himself.
“And a dungeon is just a basement,” Frederick calmly countered, deciding to have fun with this,
“She’s also a shaman, if I remember correctly, not really the type of woman your mother and father would want near their precious son.” The mercenary could see Adam's embarrassment switch to realization, his reaction already showing that he didn’t think of that.
“Well, I’ll convince them then!” Adam spouted out, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Convince who of what?” a gruff voice spoke out, catching the attention of Frederick and Adam. Both turned to see Adam’s father, the man who owned the Delphine. He also hired the mercenary in the first place, giving him a stable job for the coming months. The portly man was shorter than Frederick, fatter even, but his voice held authority and the constant reminder that he was his boss.
“Convince you to let Adam handle the negotiations at Yorktown,” Frederick answered, covering for Adam. The fourteen-year-old seemed bewildered at the sudden answer but quickly nodded to his father.
“Yes, I want to help with negotiations in the town and be a part of the business,” Adam confirmed. Adam’s father, Mr. Ernest to Frederick, nodded at the idea.
“Hm. If you really think you can do it, son. I see no reason to turn your offer down. Just as long as you don’t choke on your words or embarrass us, of course,” Mr. Ernest stroked his beard and nodded to Frederick, “By the way, get some sleep. I can send one of the crew to watch over.”
The mercenary frowned at the suggestion. He felt uncomfortable about leaving his post. “Are you sure? The ship is still moving,” he asked with some uncertainty.
“I’m sure. We’re already nearing Yorktown anyway, so we’ll drop the anchor soon,” Mr. Ernest confirmed. “Besides, this part of Valenfrost is practically threat-free this time of year, so I doubt there’ll be any danger,” he added, giving the mercenary some respite.
‘Still...'
“I think I’ll stay at my post for a little longer, sir; make sure everything goes well,” Frederick politely refused, giving his boss a smile that simply said, ‘You know me.’ Mr. Ernest nodded, smiling as he walked off to check up on the rest of the ship. Frederick sighed as he turned back to face the black waters again.
“Why didn’t you take the offer? You’ve been up for almost two days, Frederick,” Adam pointed out, a confused look on his face.
Frederick shrugged, his eyes focusing on the darkness. “I don’t know. I just have this bad feeling in my gut.”
The mercenary’s words surprised Adam, prompting him to ask, “What do you mean?”
Frederick opened his mouth to respond but stopped. His eyes had picked up some distant movement in the dark, the simple motion enough to make him go still. His hand instinctively reached for his sword, his thumb resting near the guard. In only those few seconds of movement, the mercenary knew exactly what he was looking at.
‘A dark ship. Sneaking around.’
Frederick felt his heart drop, his blood turning to ice. He had been around Northern Valenfrost enough to know what was happening and who he was dealing with.
‘But marauders? Out here?’
Frederick decided to ask questions later. He needed to focus on warning the ship and crew.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Adam, sound the alarm! Get to your father and—” Before Frederick could finish, a loud crash sounded throughout the night, violently shaking the Delphine. The mercenary and the teen fell to the deck, losing their balance.
Once Frederick got his bearings, he was witness to something big scraping against Delphine’s starboard. It was a huge black ship with red sails, a screaming banshee on its figurehead. It had come out of nowhere. Frederick saw as hooks were thrown onto the deck, their chains being pulled back to attach themselves to the railing. They were boarding.
“Adam, get to your father! Now!” Frederick shouted before pushing the terrified kid away. Adam did not stop to question as he ran off to find his father.
Frederick ran to the hooks and started kicking them off. As he was doing this, other crew members arrived on the deck, confused about what the commotion was.
“Get those hooks off! Now!” Frederick shouted at them. He didn’t check to see if they listened, his focus on holding the bastards off. The large ship still wasn’t close enough to send people over, but Frederick knew that could change any second.
Suddenly, arrows rained down on the deck, one of them hitting the mercenary on the shoulder. The arrow penetrated his leather armor, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. The mercenary broke the arrow’s shaft off without hesitation, leaving the tip in.
The lanterns suddenly blew out, making it impossible for Frederick to see where the arrows came from. He stumbled as Delphine shook again. It felt as if something rammed into the port side.
‘Did they succeed in boarding?’
Frederick dug into his pouches again. He could hear footsteps on the deck as yells sounded off into the night, some in pain and some in fear. The mercenary clenched his jaw tight as he pulled out a flare rune, a projectile variant. He raised the rune high into the black sky, shouting the engraved spell’s name.
“Flare: Fireball!”
The words activated the rune, its engravings shining an ethereal purple as a bright red ball of flame quickly materialized and fired into the night. It flared up in the sky, illuminating everything under its flaming gaze.
Frederick looked around his lit surroundings and saw how deep in the shit they were. There was another ship, smaller than the first but on par with the Delphine. Frederick spotted the crew and saw how they were losing. His initial hunch was right, as marauders now fought against the crew. While a few wore the infamous black armor, most of the raiders wore shoddy pieces of chain mail and scavenged armor, most notably without the red handprint.
‘Hired bandits.’
The realization gave the mercenary a small bit of hope. They might stand a chance, after all. Frederick soon spotted Adam in the fold, who wielded a small dagger he kept as protection. He cursed under his breath, unsheathing his sword as he rushed to their aid.
One bastard tried to swing his rusted ax at Frederick, which didn’t work well for the bandit. With ease, Frederick sidestepped the pirate, stabbed him in the throat, and kicked his dying body away. There wasn’t any time to lose.
Frederick rushed to help Adam, who was about to be struck down by one of the ill-equipped raiders. The mercenary raised his bloody sword and struck the bandit down by his exposed collar. Crimson sprayed, and the pirate went down without so much of a shout.
Once he was sure they were relatively clear, Frederick glanced at Adam. The kid looked worse than he felt. He looked sick, like he was on the verge of throwing up. Frederick wanted to tell him it would be alright and that they would get through this. He wouldn’t have the chance, however.
Thinking on his feet, Frederick shoved Adam out of the way of an incoming sword, saving his life. The aging mercenary didn’t hesitate to shove his blade into the bandit’s stomach, quickly eviscerating him with force and painting the deck with guts. The gory sight seemed too much for Adam, who turned to puke onto the deck behind him.
“Go to your father! Now!” Frederick shouted behind his back, just as someone else’s blade swung at him. Frederick countered it, gritting his teeth as he felt the weight behind the attack. This man wasn’t like the bandit trash he was facing before.
‘His armor.’
Frederick noticed the well-maintained black gambeson, a red handprint visible beneath the chain mail. The bald marauder grinned at Frederick, his hands gripping the sword tightly.
“Finally, a good fight!” The marauder shouted with glee. Without a second wasted, his sword pulled back to swing at Frederick again. The mercenary countered the attack, his free hand punching the marauder in the face as he sidestepped. The marauder spat blood, his sword returning at frightening speed. Frederick barely blocked it with his left bracer, saving himself from a lost eye. Still, he could feel the blade dig past his vambrace and into his skin, blood running down his sleeve as a result. Something else pierced Frederick's right leg, preventing him from counterattacking.
“Agh! Dammit!” He shouted in agony. He turned to see a blonde woman in the same black armor as the first marauder. Her spear had pierced his leg, dropping him down on a knee as the other marauder pulled his sword out of Frederick’s arm. Frederick clenched his jaw in anger as he swung his sword at the spear’s owner. She dodged his attack, pulling her spear out of Frederick’s leg with a sickening shunk. The bald one stabbed at his side right after, sending jolts of pain throughout the mercenary’s body.
Frederick angrily shouted as he tried to swing at the bald marauder. However, something sharp pierced his right arm and stopped his swing. The mercenary turned to see the same woman from before. Her spear had immobilized his arm, keeping it in place. Before Frederick could do anything more, a tall man with black-plated armor appeared between the two marauders, seemingly out of nowhere.
Frederick didn’t have time to say anything before the man’s armored boot connected with his face, knocking him out before a single thought could materialize in his head.
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When Frederick slowly came to, his body was in constant pain. His eyes opened to see the deck, which was now slick with blood and guts. He could see the bodies of the crew, along with Mr Ernest’s body and Adam’s motionless corpse.
“You…bastards,” Frederick croaked out. He tried to move, but his body refused to respond.
“Now, now,” a soft masculine voice spoke, its owner appearing in front of Frederick. It was the mysterious man from before, the one who knocked him out. He crouched next to the downed mercenary, his lips curved in a soft smile. He carried himself well, like he didn’t just slaughter all of Frederick’s companions and friends.
“My name is Deimos,” he introduced himself as if the two were chatting over tea.
“I know who the fuck you are.” Frederick gritted his teeth in anger. “The real question is…why?” the mercenary grunted as he slowly tried to stand, the other marauders suddenly moving to take care of him. Deimos raised his hand, stopping his crew of murderers.
“What do you gain from this?!” Frederick shouted. “Don’t you have enough after Yorn? Huh?! What did we do to you?!” The mercenary was overflowing with anger, his rationale out of the question as he screamed at the marauder leader. Deimos was unfazed by it all. Instead, he simply gestured to his crew of marauders.
“We gain nothing from this,” Deimos admitted shamelessly. “You see, my mercenary friend, my men have been terribly bored for the last few days. They haven’t fought nor pillaged in days and needed the practice.” The emotionless way he explained himself was infuriating. There was no bigger plan or necessity in the raid—only bloodlust and senseless slaughter.
Deimos’ meaningless excuse caused even more anger to flare inside Frederick’s soul. The mercenary only had to look at Adam’s lifeless body, whose eyes were blank and soulless, to remind him of how he had failed to protect the kid.
“You fucking monsters! I’ll kill you all!” Frederick shouted. With sheer willpower, the mercenary charged at Deimos, regardless of his injuries.
He never stood a chance.
Deimos easily took Frederick’s punch to the face, blood appearing on his lips. Frederick watched as the man wiped his mouth, grinning at the mercenary.
“You’re brave,” Deimos whispered softly. Before Frederick could react, he felt something cold and biting pierce his guts. An exasperated gasp was drawn from his lungs as Deimos’ sword ran through him.
‘I didn’t even see him unsheathe it.’
“Brave but foolish,” Deimos murmured before he placed his gauntlet on the mercenary’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. “Don’t worry… I’ll make sure you feel your guts spill.” Frederick could only watch in horror as he felt the sword slowly gut his stomach open, unbearable agony shooting through his body.
The last thing that Frederick saw was Deimos’ cold green eyes before he kicked the disemboweled mercenary off of the Delphine and into the freezing black waters.
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The mercenary slowly gained consciousness in the freezing waters; his vision blurred as he looked up at the distant surface of the water. He wasn’t in pain. His body was numb from the cold now. Yet he was still alive somehow, despite his body being mangled beyond any doctor’s ability. Not even the high clerics from Lumen City could revive him.
Yet, here he was, at the bottom of the black sea, somehow conscious. His eyes moved to examine the damage his body had endured, but his head refused to move. Strangely, Frederick slowly felt a burning sensation in his skin and guts, like they were on fire. He tried to get up, to do anything, but his body could barely move. It took a great deal of willpower and strength just for him to crane his neck.
Frederick saw what was happening now. His skin was blue and black, and some parts of his body were engulfed in what looked like frostbite. Frederick watched in horror as what looked like ice crystallized all over his open torso and arms. It was the source of the burning sensation, he realized. He felt his right eye slowly burn, his vision blurring even more on the right as he felt his face crystallize.
Frederick tried to scream, but his lungs were filled with icy water, and soon, they would crystallize as well, leaving half of the mercenary’s body covered in the icy crystals and frostbite. Something horrifying would soon take over Frederick's body, leaving him in excruciating pain.