He gulped as he had odd thoughts about sparrows and pirates, weird but oddly fitting. He looked towards Huemara and nodded. He got one back reaffirming his confidence.

Each step seemed to boom in his mind as he finished walking the plank...? Did that have a meaning?

Either way, his first step down on to the black ship was assisted by a guard. He found it all unnecessary, but he went with the flow making it up as he went. Any hesitance, he knew, would lead to his image faltering.

First impressions matter. More so for pirates and their ilk.

The most decked out one between them stepped forward with a large smile of black rotten and golden teeth. He bowed like a circus man before looking at Jonas directly. He had already surveyed the rest it seemed. His eyes showed he was not impressed.

“Greetings, I am known as the BlackHawk. Captain of the BlackDivinity, my home and lovely wife. Behind me are the leaders of the largest pirate and mercenary groups of Petrous. We lead this port together against incursions from many an enemy looking to take our treasures. Never have we lost a battle when we worked together-”

“There is a first for everything,” Jonas interrupted. He was not willing to sit and listen to a full lecture about who they are and what they did for the past three centuries. “I will make this clear once and only once…” he paused to look at those standing behind BlackHawk, “Bend the knee or die.”

He would give no pirate quarters to stand against him. No, they were cheats and liars, the lot of them. He would not leave them farther than he could throw them and even then, he would demand an oath of death.

BlackHawk and the other pirates laughed uproariously. Some were even clutching their stomachs. The main pirate raised his chin with his grin turning lopsided.

“We haven't had a king for a century. The last was GreyWaters, Captain of Maryam-queen of the seas. And who are you to demand such a right?”

“Jonas Leviticus Markus,” he made up a second and third name on the spot. It would not be good to be seen as without family. “Master of the Leviathan, Emperor of the seas. I suggest we make this quick, swear an oath of death now or face the wrath of my fleet.” Jonas said, drumming himself up to look as tough as he sounded. He hoped with all his will they were actually strong enough to do what he promised.

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The pirates stopped laughing, they looked at each other with serious looks. It was dead silent, only the lapping of water against the ships made any sound.

BlackHawk looked at the banner than stood behind Jonas. His eyes seemed to commit it to memory.

“We have a process. We aren't uncivilized heathens,” he rubbed the diamond on his chin. “As a king, you must send a warrior and only one to fight all seven of our champions. Only if you win without any room for debate or speculation do we crown you King amongst us.”

In reply, Jonas waved his hand. He didn’t know how powerful his guards were, so he let them choose among themselves. They would send someone they knew was going to win.

With silent steps, a hulking mass of metal walked passed Jonas. His mace dragged on the deck of the ship, leaving long marks that made BlackHawk wince.

“I am Gregor Melfius Nurbera, son of Hudin Melfius Nurbera. Descendant of the great Kredus Nurbera. Who dares question my Lieges right to rule?”

Everyone winced as they heard his voice, barely more than the rumbling of an avalanche.

Most people stayed quiet as they wondered who would step forward as the sevens representatives, or so thought Jonas. But then he heard a whisper among them. One of the seven.

It was filled with a primal fear Jonas had never heard before. It was one word he uttered but it felt like a bomb-whatever that was-exploded between them.

“Dragonslayer!”

Gregor slammed his mace to his shield screaming with it, then got into a ready position.

Jonas felt like trembling for the pirates, but a cool energy steadied his heart. The aura Frezar promised worked as he said, thank heavens above. Gregor looked like a mountain, simply insurmountable.

BlackHawk sneered at the one who spoke. “I have chosen my representative. Jalen! Jalen! Hurry your deadbeat ass up, you crummy bastard! You got a dragonslayer to kill!” He looked back at Jonas with a smile, “He’s never lost before, that one. Too smart for that.”

“I am sure the dragon thought himself the same,” Jonas countered.

BlackHawk flinched.

The rest of the seven called out various names, from Tila, to Bubour, to Meink and an endless variety of others. Their representatives looked well-off. They wore decent sets of armor and even one carried a long staff. Guess they had their battle plan ready for whoever tried to challenge them then.

“Whenever you are ready. I’ve never got the chance to kill a dragonslayer,” the first one to the scene taunted, he held a scimitar with a long black cloth attached to the back of the hilt.

Jonas guessed this was the unbeatable Jalen then. A tall and thin man with dark skin. He hoped with all his heart that streak ended today.

“You underestimate me?” Gregor’s voice was harsh on the ears, even Jonas almost flinched with the aura soothing him.

“A name means nothing to me,” Jalen’s smirk was even more irritating than Huemara’s.

“Titles are earned through merits.”

“And some are inherited with no achievement of the recipient other than to be the lucky baby of a sow.”

Gregor slammed his mace onto his shield again. “A clash of ideologies then. Let us test their mettle with cold iron.”

The massive man bent his knees readying himself for a charge, but before he could begin one of the representatives charged instead at him. With lumbering steps, the man raised an enormous axe hoping to cut Gregor in half screaming all the while.

“I am Bubour!”

In response, Gregor finished his preparation, let out a deep breath, then disappeared in a rain of wood shrapnel that almost reached Jonas behind him. One moment he was there and the next he was gone leaving everyone wide-eyed.

It took a good three seconds for Jonas to find him, but that was already too late. The first clash was already over without him seeing a single thing. And all that remained was a broken body without an upper torso. Jalen who stood directly behind the exchange was covered in blood. His body shook.

Jonas didn’t know whether it was fear or excitement that drove him.