Invincible Fleet Onslaught

Pirate King Hornigold. "Heh...!" "Glad to see you're doing well."

As they entered the castle, Zan smiled at Riko, locked in her room. With no choice but to join her when invited, Riko stepped inside. "You're the one who got Kirke's arms cut off! Make it up to her!" Even after being freed, Riko had racked her brain and spat out this plausible excuse.

Zan thought it was certainly effective. Riko explained later that the Witches' Island had been raided, resulting in Kirke losing both arms. But the hero Radamu had slain the evil god that tormented her for ages, fought off the ones who took her arms, and reclaimed them—that was the current situation. Hearing this, Zan couldn't help but laugh. A man who had devoted his entire life to her had his efforts undone in less than a year. Truly, a hero is a hero, she thought with hollow amusement, her face twisting as the bitterness lingered in her mouth like a bad aftertaste.

Hornigold responded that there was no fault in Riko's tale, then opened another secret vault and tossed over a bottle filled with shimmering golden liquid. "It's Incomplete Elixir. That should do it, right?"

"Pardon? What did you say...? Elixir???"

Even incomplete, a full Elixir was a legendary potion said to revive the dead. This flawed version could save anyone clinging to life. Hornigold shrugged, chin in hand, dismissing it casually. "The sea's treasures are endless. Nothing to be surprised about."

Riko, who hadn't expected actual compensation, flushed awkwardly and pocketed the vial. "It's for Kirke. Of course I'd give the finest treasure." With that, he claimed to be drunk and chugged another bottle of rum.

He told her to stay put in the "prison," but the room—lavishly furnished like a VIP suite—was impossible to see as a cell, no matter how hard one tried. What prison had a fridge stocked with drinks and booze, plus a full bath? Zan flopped onto the bed, muttering that she'd become a ridiculous fool. The night's chill had sapped her body heat, leaving her struggling. Hornigold had noticed and tossed her his coat under some flimsy excuse; otherwise, she'd have collapsed pathetically in the street.

"And you, witch—fired runes into the sky twice. What's the point of such blatant signals revealing your position?"

"Eek! N-no... th-there's no way they'd..."

"Think I don't know rune magic?"

Most people don't! Riko clamped her mouth shut. Caught for signaling Kirke the Pirate Kingdom's location, she couldn't meet his eyes out of sheer terror, head bowed low. No wonder the pirates had recuffed her and tossed her back here—Hornigold had known all along.

Unable to respond, Riko whimpered like a dog needing to pee. Hornigold chuckled and snapped his fingers to summon a waiting attendant, who approached with practiced deference and bowed. "Have two Invincible Fleet ships on standby. Don't kill them—bring them alive... Nah, scratch that. Call four. And smash them to bits."

"Understood."

The attendant bowed and descended to relay the order. Still lounging on the bed, Zan watched, suddenly realizing something: despite commanding hordes of pirates, she'd never heard of a vice-captain under him. Surely a fleet that size couldn't run on one captain and endless underlings. It wasn't well-known, but in her memory, no one was ever called his vice-captain.

"...No vice-captain, huh?"

"Who knows."

Another one of those 'man's honor' things? She swallowed the urge to ask. He offered her a smoke instead; when she refused again, he lit his own with a sigh. "Getting old is a drag."

How long had he known? Maybe from the moment they met—he was that shrewd. And yet, profoundly private. Unyielding to others' opinions, ignoring duty, honor, glory—pursuing just one desire ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with unwavering focus.

What was he thinking now? Zan couldn't tell. Even on the day of betrayal, only the captain had known. And only he understood the captain's mind. Despite ten years as comrades, she couldn't read him now.

...

......

"Hey, you okay?"

Blown back to the rocky island, I came to in pitch-black night. Bartholomew Kidd helped me up as my body throbbed. Gulping the potion Kirke had sent via him eased the pain somewhat.

An overwhelming defeat. My mind replayed regrets: If I'd transformed and fought full-force, could I have won?

Asking about the captain's whereabouts, Kidd shook his head—the captain was already taken hostage. No choice but to rescue him now. Clutching my aching chest, I felt paper stuck in my clothes and pulled it out. Had Kidd missed it? It was a Constellation Ticket.

She seemed to be watching Leona for a moment. Expecting me to handle it myself? That sounded like her. Smiling, I tore the ticket. Hope for a skill to break this stalemate.

Nice. But every constellation skill being doping-tier bugged me. Sure, normal growth skills existed, but these felt like first-timers' experiments—problematic in ways. Compared to blatant troll gifts or high-risk traps, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this was angelic. Only issue: useless at night.

I gathered myself and returned to the Nautilus with Kidd. Kirke comforted my string of losses. Why was Hornigold after her? She shook her head, clueless. Pirates might worship the sea witch legend, so not odd. For now, even Prince Castella was likely detained due to the Empire's betrayal. Possible traitor, but Hyacinths explained Aran nature made outright betrayal unlikely—he'd been fooled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too. Thus, hostages jumped from one to three.

And piercing the Pirate King's forces with our numbers to reach the kingdom? Near impossible. But if there was a forest in the Pirate Kingdom, that changed things. Not over yet. Can't know till we try.

Finally, good news amid endless disasters. Kirke said Riko sent a rescue signal. A golden dot rose in the sky—he'd fired runes to mark the spot. Kirke guessed the Pirate Kingdom's location. Zan had dodged Hornigold's eyes to request aid, confirming their ships evaded even Nautilus detection. We proposed approaching invisible via Kirke's spell.

"Then guerrilla with a small team."

Mortis wrung her wet clothes, drying by my fire. She planned: she and I distract Hornigold and pirates; Kidd and Hyacinths grab hostages and bail, striking later. No chance head-on with our strength, her judgment.

"Look at this." Lifting her shirt, her abdomen bore Hornigold's brutal footprint, bruised purple. Treatable anytime, but anyone inflicting that on a dullahan would pulp everyone but me in one hit, she declared. If encountered, suppress emotions, prioritize escape—repeated warnings to Kidd and Hyacinths.

Soon, we reached the Pirate Kingdom.

"...What?"

Or should have. Surfacing showed only calm sea. No kingdom. Nearby islands, but none matched. Kirke puzzled too. Fired runes skyward, awaiting signal. Had Riko betrayed? No— even coerced, she'd embed a message.

We shared the bewilderment. Then, four Invincible Fleet ships emerged from all sides. Blood-red hulls like fresh paint unleashed harpoons from flanks. Kirke's barrier rose, but inscribed runes glowed, shattering her magic—harpoons hooked Nautilus like an eagle snatching fish.

Yanked from water in seconds. Rear jets fired for emergency escape, accelerating midair, but roaring engines betrayed us. The four ships moved as one, slamming Nautilus downward. Momentum backfired; we spun wildly, skidding across ice like a frozen rink—crunch-crash.

"Ice?! When?!"

No time to panic—Invincible Fleet surged from sea onto ice, endless tracks whirring beneath like tanks. Prow ram-prows gleamed metallic-sharp. Charging from four sides, they crushed into Nautilus.

Hand swept skyward, flames engulfed the ice in hellfire. Yet amid inferno, mana shields protected the fleets—side panels opened, spewing magic shells like machine guns. Explosions froze Nautilus solid. Jet escape predicted; tail iced over, we sank.

Splash—one Invincible Fleet dove after. Unbelievable: underwater acceleration, arms extended from prow, yanking Nautilus up; two others rammed from sea with rams. Inside spun chaotically, ceiling and floor blurring. I hugged Kirke protectively, but she levitated Nautilus via telekinesis.

No respite—flame barrages disrupted mana; electric harpoons pierced, shorting lights with shocks.

"Damn it, no match...!!"

"What kinda ships...! This the Invincible Fleet...!"

Half destroyed by that evil god? Unthinkable. Four ships toyed with Nautilus—grounded, airborne, violated. Like volleyball: as we fell, one accelerated to spike us back; others paused rams to blast.

"Money to burn...!"

Even Hyacinths gawked—each shell magically inscribed, insane expense. Tooth-grinding ignorance of costs, hidden features. Kirke's spells scorched decks, but self-repair mocked her; sweat beaded her despairing eyes.

Then one fleet ship soared skyward.

"Ship... flying?"

Kidd despaired, they're insane? Then—crunch—sickening snap; crew blood squirted like squeezed orange into sea. Attacks halted; battered Nautilus hit surface, sinking slowly.

From darkness—ghostly silhouette approached.

"Livestock squabbling matches reports from backward lower castes... So, where's the insolent trash that dared challenge the Great Forest?"

The emotionless voice echoed over the sea, laced with primal dread. Alarms blared in my head: flee now—

An elf from the Great Forest walked on water.