Roy gave Otherrealm only the briefest hello-goodbye before casting off again. He'd have loved to stay longer to help organize the newly rescued beastfolk settling in Sector 3 but he was dead broke after so many mass buyouts. If he wanted more gold for future rescues, he needed a lucrative and hopefully despicable target. Another Abyssforged Alliance captain would do nicely.
Three days at sea brought little excitement. The Nightshatter spotted two small pirate crews; both fled after glimpsing the enormous iron hull. Boredom set in, so the crew decided to make their own fun.
Eryndra stood on the main deck, squaring off against the half-bearfolk man who nearly killed Roy in Midmoon. She'd forgiven him—kind of—but insisted on a bit of "friendly sparring." Warrex, grinning, rolled his shoulders in anticipation. Roy and a few Presidroids watched from one corner, while Lutrian and Takara hovered nearby, eyes fixed on the makeshift ring.
"Ready when you are," Warrex said, tapping his axes together. Takara's runic reinforcements glittered faintly on the newly repaired axes.
Eryndra narrowed her eyes. She'd spent the last couple of days gauging Warrex's capabilities, ever since he joined them. Despite her own monstrous power, he'd proven surprisingly adept, forcing her to exert effort rather than lazily overpower him.
She lunged; he responded in kind. Metal gauntlets clashed against rune-etched axes, sparks flying in the midday sun. Eryndra ducked low for a sweeping kick, but Warrex vaulted over her, bringing an overhead strike so fast Roy barely tracked it. She crossed her forearms to block, feet sliding across the polished steel deck.
"Not bad," she muttered, voice tinged with grudging admiration. "You're making me work for this."
Warrex snorted. "I'm only using half my style."
They clashed again in a burst of motion, neither yielding ground. Eryndra's eyes flared; she stepped up her speed. Warrex met her blow for blow, using his footwork to rotate and redirect her strikes. Finally, she hooked a hip into him and slammed him sideways. He rolled across the deck, breathing hard but still grinning.
"Stop holding back," he challenged, eyes locked on her. "I want to see what earns you that 'Goddess of the Iron Wrath' nickname."
Eryndra glanced Roy's way for permission. He gave a faint nod. She exhaled, letting plates of her segmented armor lift like vents. A thin haze seeped out, accompanied by a crackling buzz that reminded Roy of contained electricity. Warrex visibly tensed, axes raised.
A blink later, Eryndra vanished from view. Warrex reflexively lunged forward, but she'd already rushed behind him. Her fist crashed into his back with punishing force. He barely registered the impact before he toppled face-first onto the deck, denting the metal plating. A swirl of steam curled around her as the vents snapped shut, and she stood over him like a victorious duelist.
Groaning, Warrex pushed himself up, adrenaline roaring through his veins. Eryndra knelt and offered a hand. He let out a raspy laugh. "All right," he managed, "that answers my question."
Roy signaled that the sparring session was done, while Teddy and Lincoln recorded data from a safe distance. Warrex slowly sat upright, rubbing the bruises forming under his shirt. Eryndra eyed him, half-impressed, half-amused.
"You pushed me more than most," she said softly.
He smirked, rolling a sore shoulder. "You're a monster. A nice monster, but a monster."
She let out a short laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Lutrian, who had watched everything with a small smile, chimed in, "Tomorrow, it's my turn." Warrex just snorted, stretching out the kinks in his neck.
That afternoon, Warrex wandered the lower corridors, curiosity piqued by the ship's advanced technology. Everything here was far beyond the hodgepodge medieval-and-magic systems he knew. Eventually, he followed a sign reading "Brig," leading him to a metal-barred cell Riven lounged.
Riven was sprawled against the cell wall, munching on a half-melted chocolate bar Roy had given him as a "bribe" for information. His body had tripled in girth from endless snacking, grease staining his shirt. Upon noticing Warrex, he stiffened. Recognition flashed across his face.
Warrex arched an eyebrow. "I remember you. You tried to gut a merc camp I was hired to protect a while back. Didn't turn out so well for you, if I recall."
"Shut it, burnball," Riven snapped, bits of chocolate speckling his chin.
Warrex scoffed with a short, sharp bark of laughter that echoed in the steel-walled brig. Before he could say more, Father Skeleton pranced by behind him, wearing old slippers, a baseball cap, a gaudy floral shirt, and skinny jeans.
"What's so funny, friend?" Father Skeleton asked, beaming with childlike glee.
Warrex spun around, eyes going wide. He opened his mouth—only to be cut off by a second skeletal figure, Skelly Mom, who poked her head around the corner in a bikini top and open bathrobe. She let out a shrieking cackle that sent a chill through the air. Father Skeleton joined in, both skeletons laughing madly, though neither seemed to know why.
Riven, chocolate still smudged on his lips, started snickering too, half-choking on his sweet. Warrex took one look at these undead parents, recognized the faint aura of something dreadfully ancient, and felt his stomach flip. He'd grown up hearing legends of the unstoppable Immortal Family. And these two were… giggling idiots?
He promptly decided he'd seen enough. Fighting the urge to pass out from fear, he spun on his heel and calmly exited down the corridor. The skeletons' combined laughter echoed off the walls, following him all the way to the main stairwell. Shoving past startled and baffled Presidroids, Warrex finally made it to the bridge, chest heaving.
Roy, busy checking a cargo manifest, glanced up. "Warrex? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Warrex drew one of his axes as his hands trembled. "Captain…" He swallowed, voice hushed. "The church might have been right. You might really be a demon." Warrex just shook his head, slumping onto a nearby bench. "Never mind. Sorry for temporarily doubting you."
Roy watched him, half-baffled, half-amused. "O…kay." He turned back to his console, letting Warrex catch his breath in peace.
Two weeks drifted by uneventfully after that. The Nightshatter scoured the open seas for a bigger payday, encountering only small pirate crews. Most tried to board, realized their mistake upon seeing Roy's unstoppable warship, and surrendered outright. Roy's gold reserves crept upward, but not nearly enough. He needed something bigger.
Late one foggy afternoon, Lutrian stiffened at the sensor station. "Captain," he said, voice tense, "we've got a fleet inbound. That flag… I recognize it from palace records. Coralborn Covenant."
Roy's heart gave a jolt. "Coralborn? You mean aquatic beastfolk pirates?"
Lutrian nodded. "They're also one of the most violent members of the Abyssforged Alliance. Furthermore, records say they have maintained the membership for over twenty years, so they must be strong."
"Finally!" Roy said, a savage grin tugging at his mouth. "Serenity, alert the crew."
The thick mist peeled away, revealing a line of strange, reef-like ships. Jagged coral structures jutted from the hulls like living spikes. Their lead vessel, bigger than the rest, gleamed wetly under the waning sunlight. Banners hung from its masts, emblazoned with a shark's gaping maw.
From a vantage point near the window, Warrex folded his arms. "They can fight underwater as easily as on land. We'd best be ready for something sneaky below the waves."
Teddy and Lincoln hurried to artillery stations at Roy's nod. Eryndra paced the bridge, an electric tension sparking under her skin. Takara stood beside Roy, runic gauntlets strapped on, prepared to defend him if boarders made it that far.
Moments later, the largest Coralborn ship—a battered behemoth with twisted coral plating—surfaced close enough to swing starboard.
Lutrian peered at the cameras. "That must be their flagship… The Brinebreaker."
Dozens of beastfolk pirates ringed its decks, roaring in challenge. Roy flicked the comm. "How did they come so close undetected? No time to wonder, all Presidroids, man your stations."
The Nightshatter's main guns thundered first. Shells scorched through the air, ripping into lesser enemy ships. Some were crippled, listing heavily, though not immediately sunk—the enchanted coral plating absorbed more punishment than normal wood. In response, the Coralborn conjured arcs of watery magic from their decks. Glowing runes flared. A volley of spell-laden harpoons streaked toward the Nightshatter, smashing harmlessly against the metal hull in bursts of elemental fury.
An eerie hiss resonated from below. Lutrian's eyes narrowed. "Something under us. More underwater boats?"
Serenity's voice crackled through the speaker. "Unidentified sonar contacts, likely smaller craft. They're circling to our aft."
Roy grimaced. "Underwater assault. Eryndra, Warrex—get ready for saboteurs. Teddy, Lincoln, keep shelling. Lutrian, stay alert for ambush. Takara, you're with me."
The battleship launched torpedoes from hidden tubes along its keel. Explosions churned the sea into foaming geysers. The Coralborn "submarines"—more like coral-wrapped diving boats propelled by watery magic—darted around, trying to drill into the Nightshatter's underbelly with swirling earth spells. Occasionally, a few surfaced to hurl spells or harpoons. But the hull's modern plating shrugged off most hits.
Up above, the Brinebreaker, soaked up direct gunfire. Shells cratered chunks of living coral, but the monstrous vessel refused to sink, listing only slightly amid swirling waves. Meanwhile, smaller craft circled like sharks, launching sporadic magical strikes—wind blasts, wave surges, and jets of superheated steam that hissed over the Nightshatter's deck.
For a tense half hour, the sea boiled with cannonfire, enchanted blasts, and the relentless thunder of the Nightshatter's advanced weapons. Shattered debris drifted amid rolling steam, each destroyed coral ship leaving behind a cloud of vapor and splinters. The Coralborn Covenant—longtime veterans of the Abyssforged Alliance—fought viciously despite their ships suffering hole after smoking hole from Roy's missiles and drone strikes. Yet their leader's flagship, the Brinebreaker, vanished beneath the waves, its coral plating seemingly cloaking it from all sonar sweeps.
Further down the battle line, a cluster of Coralborn vessels tried to close in, lobbing arcs of hissing earth-spells shaped like jagged, laughing faces of living coral. The Nightshatter's CIWS guns spat streaks of tracer rounds, shredding each projectile before it reached the hull. CIWS missiles took care of the water-based spells by exploding on contact, dispersing the watery blasts in fine spray that harmlessly pelted the ship's plating.
Those same missiles ripped fiery holes through smaller ships attempting a flanking maneuver. Overhead, drone bombs whistled down, targeting the largest reefs jutting from decks—where mages clustered. Torn sails and coral shards rained across the waves.