Three days later, the sky was a flat sheet of gray, thick clouds hanging low, the kind of weather that could turn calm seas treacherous with the wrong gust of wind. Ludger stood inside the captain’s cabin of the Ironhand Guild’s largest ship, arms crossed as he studied the map spread across the center table.

  Outside, the deck thudded rhythmically as crews prepared for departure. Rope coils tightened, anchors lifted, and the metallic groan of reinforced hulls echoed across the port. The Ironhand fleet wasn’t massive, but it was dense, every ship reinforced, every crew seasoned, every mage already braced for combat.

  A dozen ships total. Most of them medium-sized. Two of them large. Their own, The Tidebreaker, was practically a floating fortress. And all of it… for one transport run.

  Too much? Maybe. Necessary? Definitely.

  Eighty percent of the Ironhand Guild was present, ready, and grim-faced.

  Kaela leaned against the cabin wall, spinning a dagger between her fingers with practiced boredom. Maurien sat cross-legged near the window, eyes half-closed, listening to the wind like it was talking to him. Ludger suspected, knowing Maurien, that it probably was.

  Renvar stood closest to the map, staring at the clusters of ship markers with a mixture of awe and confusion. Eventually, he turned toward Ludger with a baffled look.

  “Hey, uh… Vice Guildmaster?”

  Ludger answered without looking up. “What.”

  Renvar gestured vaguely toward the outside, toward the dozens of armed sailors, the thick lines of rigging, the mages overseeing the mana core crates, the heavy atmosphere that suggested a war was about to start.

  “With this many people moving the shipment… do you think the pirates will even show up?” Renvar asked. “I mean… look at this. This is an army. Who’d be stupid enough to charge us when we’re this prepared?”

  Kaela laughed under her breath. “Idiots.”

  Maurien murmured without opening his eyes, “Desperate people.”

  Ludger finally glanced at Renvar and shook his head once.

  “You’re asking the wrong question.”

  Renvar blinked. “Am I?”

  “Yes,” Ludger said. “The question isn’t whether they’ll come. It’s whether they can afford not to.”

  Kaela uncrossed her arms, smirk growing. “Mana cores are too valuable. Whoever’s supplying those pirates? They don’t want us moving them safely. They want that supply chain broken. And they want the cores for themselves.”

  Maurien opened his eyes just enough to add, “If pirates wait until we’re less prepared, they risk losing their funding. Their reinforcement shipments. Their runic gear. Whoever’s supporting them won’t tolerate hesitation.”

  Renvar processed that for several seconds.

  “So… they’re forced to attack?”

  Ludger nodded. “They’ll come. They’ll be aggressive. And they’ll hit us with everything they've got, shields, runic cannons, maybe even their flagship.”

  Renvar swallowed. “And we’re just… sitting here waiting?”

  “Welcome to naval warfare,” Kaela said, clapping him on the back. “Try not to puke when the ship starts lurching.”

  Ludger turned back to the map, voice steady.

  “If the enemy is being backed by someone with deep pockets, they’ll have no choice but to push forward. They can't let a shipment like this slip. And they can’t afford to look weak in front of their benefactors.”

  He marked a stretch of the route that curved around a cluster of small islands.

  “This is where they’ll strike. A narrow route. Limited space for maneuvering. Hard currents. They’ll try to surround us, fire their runic cannons at the escort ships first, and then swarm the transport.”

  He straightened, tapping the map once more.

  “They’ll come,” Ludger repeated. “Because they have to.”

  A horn blared across the port. Orders echoed. Sails unfurled. The fleet began to move. Kaela sheathed her dagger, Maurien rose silently, and Renvar grabbed the nearest railing to brace himself as the deck shifted beneath their feet.

  Ludger looked out the window toward the open sea.

  “Let’s hope they’re not ready for us.”

  The cabin door swung open with a heavy thud, and Rathen stepped inside, already fully geared despite being a guildmaster who should’ve been behind a desk, not at the helm of a warship.

  He wore light naval armor reinforced with light plates along the ribs and shoulders. A long, steel spear rested across his back, its runic engravings faintly glowing in rhythm with the ship’s engine core. Even captains needed to be armed these days… especially these days.

  Without ceremony, Rathen moved straight to the ship’s helm, built directly into the cabin, and began adjusting the Tidebreaker’s wheel and runic throttle, guiding the massive ship into formation as the fleet drifted away from the harbor and toward open waters.

  “Alright,” he said, voice tight but controlled, “before we head out too far, you need the latest numbers.”

  Kaela and Renvar leaned closer. Maurien approached silently. Ludger remained at the map table, eyes focused but listening. Rathen glanced back at them.

  “The last major attack we had involved six pirate ships,” he explained. “Not counting the smaller skiffs they used as distractions. And these six weren’t uniform, three were standard raider vessels, two were reinforced hulls, and one was… different.”

  Ludger raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Rathen grimaced. “Runic plates thicker than our own. Double-layered mana shielding. And their cannons burned azure instead of orange. That means they’re powered by an external mana core system, not internal reservoirs.”

  Kaela muttered a curse. Renvar swallowed audibly. Maurien’s brows lowered a millimeter, his version of emotional shock. Rathen continued, adjusting the throttle again as the Tidebreaker picked up speed.

  “We believe they have ten ships in total. The six we’ve fought, and four more we haven’t seen yet from up close. Maybe more, if they’ve captured vessels from foreign traders.”

  Ludger clicked his tongue. “So worst case? Ten fully-armed ships. Possibly a flagship with upgraded core systems. And runic cannons that can tear through Ironhand armor.”

  Rathen nodded.

  “And if they deploy all ten,” he said, “you four will need to hit them fast and hit them hard. Break their formations before our escorts take too much damage.”

  Ludger exhaled through his nose. “And we’ll also need to avoid friendly fire after we split up.”

  Rathen forced a smile, the tired, strained kind that said he’d thought of that too and didn’t love the odds. Rathen continued, steady but grim:

  “We’ll target the pirate hulls with our cannons. Hammer them from the sides while they focus on the transport. Your goal is to disrupt their command, their casters, their cannons… whatever you can sabotage. We can finish the rest.”

  Maurien stepped forward, voice colder than the sea breeze slipping in through the cabin window.

  “And if the flagship appears?”

  Rathen met his gaze, jaw tight.

  “Then sink it.”

  The ship creaked as it cut through the waves. The fleet around them tightened formation. The horizon ahead was darkening despite the morning sun.

  Kaela grinned. Renvar smiled. Maurien’s eyes sharpened. Ludger finally lifted his gaze toward the open waters.

  “Good,” he said.

  Rathen adjusted the helm one last time.

  “Let’s give them a battle they’ll regret starting.”

  Ludger stepped away from the map and planted both hands on the table, voice cutting through the room with the kind of calm authority that made even the ship’s hull feel quieter.

  “Alright. Here’s how we’re doing this.”

  Kaela stopped spinning her dagger again. Renvar straightened like a startled dog. Maurien’s attention sharpened immediately. Even Rathen paused at the helm to listen.

  “We’ll operate in three groups,” Ludger said.

  He pointed at Maurien first.

  “Maurien works solo.”

  Maurien nodded once, totally unsurprised.

  “Your job is assassination and disruption. Take out casters, officers, and captains. Break their morale and their chain of command. Move from one ship to the other focusing on that.”

  Then Ludger tapped his own chest.

  “I’ll be working solo too.”

  Kaela lifted an eyebrow. Renvar made a sound somewhere between agreement and fear.

  “My job will be to punch through shields, break hull reinforcements, and sabotage their cores. If any of the reinforced ships or the flagship shows up, I’ll handle it.”

  He turned to the other two.

  “You two,” he said, pointing at Kaela and Renvar, “will work together.”

  Kaela smirked, unsurprised. Renvar tried to smirk back and only managed a nervous laugh.

  “You’ve already fought together. You’ve fought bandits and traffickers side-by-side. You know each other’s rhythm. Use that. Cover for one another. Renvar, your speed and acrobatics. Kaela, your agility and precision. Combined, you’re better than the sum of your parts.”

  Kaela bumped Renvar’s shoulder with her elbow. Renvar nearly tripped, but nodded enthusiastically.

  Ludger continued, voice level but firm:

  “All of us here have decent mana pools. Strong enough to fight. Strong enough to infiltrate. But none of us can maintain extended battles on open decks under heavy fire. Our job is simple: Sabotage the enemy ships. Cripple their ability to fight. Let the Ironhand fleet finish the job.”

  He swept a gaze across the room, steady, stern, assessing.

  “This isn’t a hero’s war. This is a surgical strike. Fast and decisive.”

  The room felt heavier now, the tension shifting from nervous anticipation to sharp focus.

  Ludger finished with the part he refused to compromise on.

  “In case of injury, any injury at all, you return immediately to the Tidebreaker. No exceptions. No stubbornness. No trying to ‘push through it.’”

  Renvar stiffened. Kaela narrowed her eyes but didn’t argue. Maurien simply inclined his head in agreement. Ludger’s tone grew even colder.

  “Out here, a single wound can mean bleeding out before a healer reaches you. Or falling off a ship. Or getting hit by a stray cannon shot. We’re not taking stupid risks.”

  He held each of their gazes for a heartbeat.

  “That’s an order.”

  The cabin went silent except for the creaking of wood and the distant crash of waves against the hull. Then Kaela let out a low whistle.

  “Well,” she said, leaning back with a grin, “sounds like we’re finally doing something fun.”

  Renvar exhaled shakily. “Fun. Yeah. Let’s… call it that.”

  Maurien closed his eyes briefly, attuning to the wind outside, then nodded. “Understood.”

  Rathen, still at the helm, cracked a humorless smile. “If this doesn’t break them, nothing will.”

  Ludger turned toward the door, already feeling the shift in the air, the tightening aura of a battle creeping closer on the horizon.

  “Good,” he said quietly.

  “Get ready.”

  Kaela broke the tense silence first—of course she did—by leaning forward on the table with the exact expression of someone about to ask something deeply irresponsible.

  “So,” she began casually, twirling a dagger between her fingers, “if I do really well out there… like, really well… can I get a ship for myself?”

  Renvar’s head snapped toward her so fast he almost pulled something.

  Maurien didn’t even blink.

  Rathen choked at the helm.

  Ludger just stared at her.

  Kaela continued, undeterred. “I mean, if we take out several of their ships, it’d be a shame to let all that perfectly good wood and iron sink. Might as well recycle, right? And think about it—Kaela’s Ship. Sounds good. Has a nice ring.”

  Ludger exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for one second the way a father does when his child asks if the family pig can be turned into a horse.

  “…No.”

  Kaela pouted. “Why not?”

  “Because,” Ludger said, deadpan, “the spoils will be split between Ironhand and the Lionsguard, and any damaged ships will probably be salvaged to repair existing ones—not handed out like toys.”

  Kaela lifted a finger. “But if we capture one intact—”

  Ludger cut her off with a flat stare. “We’re not here for souvenirs.”

  She opened her mouth again.

  Ludger raised his voice one notch, not loud, but with enough authority to flatten the argument.

  “We’re not focusing on spoils at all. Our objective is to exterminate the pirates, break their support network, and prevent further attacks. That’s it.”

  Kaela crossed her arms, grumbling something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Still want a ship…”

  Renvar whispered to her, “Why would you even want one?”

  Kaela whispered back, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Because pirates don’t expect a woman flying at them from the sky armed with knives.”

  Maurien murmured, “She’s not wrong.”

  Ludger ignored all of them and walked toward the cabin doors.

  “No ships,” he repeated, tone final. “Just sinking the ones that matter.”

  Kaela muttered, “Fine. But if I hijack one in the middle of battle, you can’t stop me.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “You probably won’t.”

  Ludger paused, turned, and gave her a look that promised consequences. Kaela smiled innocently. Renvar silently prayed the pirates would kill him first.