Chapter 45 - Anxious Winds
[I don't like fighting. But if you keep threatening us...]
The mercenary pirates froze in stunned silence. Their mouths hung open so wide, rainwater was pooling inside. For sailors, few things were worse than a storm. But the discordant roar cutting through the thunder and gale...
[I'll have to ram your mast, and leave the rest to the storm. Even I couldn't save everyone if the ship capsizes in this weather.]
...was a calamity beyond compare. The dragon's bellow. A menacing tone hovering somewhere between a whale's deep pulse and a human voice. In the middle of the open ocean, was there a surer death sentence?
[Most of you probably won't make it home. If you don't want that fate, get lost.]
"...I didn't think it was real."
[This is the dragon's final warning.]
"F-final warning, he says. What now?"
Their employer had called it bluffing, idle rumors. How could the world's mightiest creature join some silly party of immature girls playing at adventure? All lies, red as blood.
If they'd known, who would've picked a fight?
"...What now? Turn the ship around."
Fear didn't calm—instead, the captain, soaked first, gritted his teeth. Then a man in a rain slicker and deep hood rose stealthily, slipping behind the captain.
"Just fighting the Julian with the noose around its neck was mad enough. Turn back! Even if they offered a fortune, I won't—!"
"What changes if we turn?"
The hooded man laid his longsword blade on the captain's shoulder. The crew, about to swing the helm on command, froze.
"We're dead either way."
"...What?"
"You vermin. We poured gold into those mouths—time to spit out some use. Dragons scare you, but your employer doesn't?"
The crew thought it absurd, being called cowards. It was a creature they couldn't even face. What did "scared" even mean?
"...Look here. Even if you bought our services, our lives aren't for sale. Threatening the captain mid-ocean with a sword at his throat? Tired of playing spoiled noble and wanna become a sea ghost?"
"Daring to threaten me, you pirate scum? It's not even a dragon shoving its face in ours—just a shadow glance, and you've lost your minds from fear?"
"Damn right! Think a dragon's just a big whale? Cannons can't even touch it up there! If it breathes fire down on us, we're all—"
"That's why you're stuck as pirates."
The hooded employer smashed the sword hilt into the captain's nape. Before anyone could stop him, he shoved the staggering man over the rail.
The deck air turned ice-cold, like a bucket of seawater dumped over them. The captain's killer smirked, scanning the crew.
"I'm in command now. Complaints?"
Even if they had any, no one would voice them. No one was loyal enough to follow the captain to the grave.
"Of course."
Satisfied, Adamanthon nodded. He raised his sword skyward, straight at the dragon shadow beyond the fog.
Light began to gleam along the hero's blade.
"No matter where I go, nothing but worthless bugs who can't do shit without a hero."
"The wind's too strong? Feels like the storm's closing in!"
Nenya the elf poked her head out the cabin window, eyes closed, sensing the wind's fury. Her face paled as she shouted.
"Closing in? We're about to plow right through it!"
"So what?"
"...So what? Like you can do something! Call Nidroga back—it's too dangerous!"
"Dangerous? She loves it. Said strong winds make flying easier."
"But Captain Tomco told us to stay put."
"That's just that old man's stubbornness. Better to talk them down and send 'em packing than let the ships slug it out, right?"
Esen leaned against the porthole, scratching her ear. Utterly convinced it'd resolve soon.
But Bilena, nervously biting her nails, backed Nenya—with academic flair.
"Dragons have delicate structures, contrary to popular myth."
"Heh. Nidroga'd laugh if she—"
"Get swept up and rupture a keel spur? Dragon fossils from mudslide layers consistently show rupture or fracture evidence—"
"...Keel spur... popular... what?"
Esen shuddered, allergic to jargon. She relaxed at my casual translation.
"Same thing. Strong winds might hurt her."
"Ah. Who's worrying who? Think about Nidroga in dragon form. Wings strong enough to lift that massive body."
Esen's point seemed reasonable. Hard to forget. Nidroga's draconic majesty, the majestic muscles rippling under blood-red scales. No danger came to mind. Could mere wind or sea battle harm that?
The mystery foes seemed to realize it too—an unbeatable matchup. Their probing cannon fire had stopped.
No need to imagine dying to a stray blind shot. Relief.
Still, party injury worries prompted a dutiful suggestion.
"Shall I yell for her to come back?"
"Hear that in a storm? Quit fretting about crashes. Unless someone leaps up and pokes her eye—"
Lightning flashed outside. 0.01 seconds of thought. Just a bolt.
But a drum-thunder BOOM followed, plunging the world into blinding glare and shadow.
Wind too fierce is an explosion. Sound too loud is a blast. Light that sears the eyes? A flash-bomb? Like a fist to the retina.
Thankfully, before I reacted, Esen slammed my head down, shielding my eyes—and hers.
By the time Esen cautiously lifted her hand from my occiput, my eyes stung but vision held. Barely.
The rest of the party...
"My eyes—!"
"T-Tan? Esen? Reni, Nenya? You there?"
"...I'm not the only one blind, right? Right?"
Oh, shit.
I rushed to check on them. But pale-faced Esen peered outside first, as if someone faced greater peril.
"Eyes... unless poked..."
"Esen?"
"...Tan. Imagine plunging deep into the sea. Eyes shut tight—could you find direction?"
"Uh, no?"
Obvious question, obvious answer. Then it hit: her meaning chilled my spine.
Someone out there, not safe in the cabin. Nidroga. Swimming the sky's center, body battering wind waves...?
"She's falling."
Esen muttered despairingly. I rubbed stinging eyes, smashing my face to the window.
There. Backlit by thunder beyond thick clouds, dragon shadow flailing wings in freefall.
"No. Nidroga! Nidroga's...!"
"Tan, Esen! Help the crew—!"
I whirled at the calm cry. Monica sisters, eyes squeezed shut, shouted while healing groped-for party members.
"The light came from the attacking ship. Deliberate strike! We're not the only ones hit!"
True. Outside, blinded screams rained down.
"How'd you know our eyes were fine—"
"Heard voices lost to Nidroga's fall. But she's a dragon—the ultimate creature. Might escape somehow! Help who we can first!"
Sisters' call was right. Nenya, recovering one eye, blinked furiously and nodded.
"Ugh, Monica's right! At least keep 'em from drowning!"
Esen kicked the door open, charging out. I followed, stuffing rope and grappling hook into my bag.
But poking into the rain-lashed deck, Esen stood rigid at the rail.
"...Esen?"
"Heard it clear. Huge body splashing into water. Thick bones snapping too."
"Come down first, Esen! Slip and you're done—!"
"You know I love you, right Tan?"
"What?"
"Not empty words—real. But that one's a friend I truly like. Girls got loyalty too. Can't let her drown like that."
Esen flung off her coat. Turned with a reassuring smile—too forced. The chill creeping my spine—was it just the storm?
"So don't feel too bad."
"Don't."
"I'd do the same if it was you."
"Esen—!"
Desperate shout, grappling hook extended—too late. Esen dove. Into the churning sea.
"Damn it, damn it—! Waves that high—!"
The porter's ambiguous soprano faded. Man or woman? Who cared.
"Shit, shit! Esen you idiot—! Lost your mind—?!"
Morgan Tomco wanted to scream don't go. Not after casual curiosity led to heart and body stolen by reckless play. Just fear. Blinded, tossed into the gale's heart.
Never felt the sea so terrifying.
So when callused, rough hands lifted her feather-light, and warm soft ones covered her eyes...
Morgan nearly bawled. As 'Tomco' on deck, dignity held her back.
"Hurry, sisters."
"Eyes are delicate. Botch it, and blindness permanent."
"Sorry. Just scared..."
"I know. I get it."
She didn't catch their talk. But healing refocused her retinas, and joy flooded as she opened her eyes.
Then shock. First sight post-blindness: Tan's face, smeared with terror and tears.
"Wh-what? You okay?"
"Worry about me later. Where's Captain Tomco?"
"Dunno. Why?"
"Ships closing. Someone's gotta lead the crew!"
Healer Monica, piggybacked firmly on Tan, pointed urgently outside.
Morgan looked—tensed hard.
"Mad bastards. Sea heaving like this... gonna ram?"
"Can't aim cannons proper. Don't know their goal, but boarding it is! Rally the crew—!"
Turning back, the porter yelled while sprinting to other sailors.
One dumb sailor tumbled under the rail, spooked by the porter's rush. Porter thrust a stick-like artifact down, snagged him with steel cable like fishing, hauled up.
Morgan admired briefly, shook it off—wrong time. Followed the porter.
"Right. Prep for melee. Ships ramming! They're coming alongside—! Everyone out! Battle stations—!"
