The Harvest of Terror
By nature, my crew were a bloodthirsty lot—myself excluded.
From a purely economic standpoint, it was rather inefficient.
When raiding merchantmen or pirate vessels, the real prize was never the cargo. It was the ship itself. Capturing a seaworthy vessel and either selling it or folding it into the fleet made far more sense than sending it to the bottom.
Yet I had let my men sink a great many ships anyway, and there was a perfectly rational reason for it.
Overwhelming terror.
And the sheer spectacle that crushed any will to resist.
Cross Haydam’s fleet and you die. Nothing else.
That reputation spread across the southern seas. Enemies made mistakes the moment they sighted our sails. Sometimes they dropped to their knees before a single broadside was even fired.
So I never reined the men in when they went berserk in battle. Pirates lived and died by their infamy, and fear born of that infamy was the most efficient leash I could ask for.
And now, right before my eyes, the last two ships were slowly sliding beneath the waves—the direct result of that policy.
Bella’s ship had fled first. The other two had broken long before our cannons finished speaking. They had offered no real resistance, only trembling until the sea claimed them.
My judgment had been correct.
“Captain…!”
But then—
“CaptainCaptainCaptainCaptain…!!”
Someone seized the hem of my coat, panting like a hound that had scented blood.
Lorens, my artillery chief.
She stared up at me with wild, shining eyes, every inch the mad dog she truly was.
“Can I go? That one’s mine, right? Right?!”
I looked down at her trembling shoulders. This woman had never been normal. Even back when she hid her gender beneath men’s clothing, the madness had always leaked out in strange places.
Still, every good hunting dog needed its leash loosened now and then.
“Can you handle it alone?”
“Don’t insult me, Captain! I’ll take care of every last—”
“—Take them alive. All of them.”
“…I can still do that!”
“Then go. Prove yourself, Lorens.”
“Aah…!”
A grotesque, ecstatic smile split her face—the look of a child who had just been handed the most precious toy in the world.
“Leave it to me! I’ll wrap them up real pretty for you!”
Before the words had fully left her mouth, red aura flared around her boots.
—Fwoosh!
She launched herself across the water toward Bella’s crippled ship.
—Thud…
The moment her feet touched the deck, one of Bella’s sailors raised a cutlass.
“What the hell? A kid came alone?!”
They still thought numbers might save them. The mast was broken, the ship dead in the water, and only a small girl stood before them.
Lorens didn’t even glance his way.
—Bang—Crack!
A musket shot punched a neat hole through the man’s thigh.
“Ghh—aaaaagh…!!!!”
“Huuuuh—! Haaah…”
Lorens inhaled the gunsmoke rising from the barrel as though it were the finest perfume. The surrounding pirates went deathly pale.
“Now then. Who’s next?”
She strode forward, boots ringing on the deck.
“C’mon, hold out a little longer. The Captain’s been hogging all the fun lately. I haven’t had a proper fight in ages.”
Her eyes burned with the promise of slaughter.
“Why aren’t you moving? Run. Fight. Do something. Your heart’s not even racing? Really?”
She tossed the spent pistol aside and drew another from her belt.
“S-surrender! We surrender! Please, spare us…!!”
“…What?”
Bella herself dropped to her knees.
It was the only sane choice. Even with only Lorens aboard, the sheer pressure had frozen every man in place.
But Lorens’s smile vanished. Her voice turned cold.
“No. You fight.”
“H-huh…?”
“Pick up your sword and come at me. I haven’t had my fun yet. Get up, you worthless bitch!”
“A-aaah…!”
Lorens grabbed Bella by the hair and hauled her upright, eyes blazing.
I sighed and leapt across the gap, landing lightly on the deck.
—Tap.
“That’s enough.”
I caught Lorens’s wrist before she could drag Bella any farther.
“C-Captain…! I haven’t even started…”
I picked up her discarded coat and tossed it to her.
“You keep throwing your coat off every time you fight. Trying to get found out?”
“…Th-thank you.”
She pouted but accepted the garment. I turned to the rest of the crew and raised my voice.
“Men, take them all alive.”
““Yes, Captain!!””
Thick ropes with iron grapples flew through the air. My sailors swarmed aboard and began binding Bella’s crew.
From the distance came the sound of oars—Kael’s schooner cutting through the waves toward us.
“Captain——!! Merchant ship secured!”
I gazed across the floating wreckage and the survivors clinging to it.
“Gidmen. Lorens. You heard him. Haul up every piece of flotsam and every man who surrendered.”
““Yes, Captain!””
It was over.
I looked at the captured pirates and felt a deep satisfaction. Morg Bay needed labor, and these men were perfect for it. Under southern law they were already criminals; turning them into slaves would raise no eyebrows. On top of that, we had seized the Draund family’s wealth and goods.
All of it would become fertilizer for the rebirth of Morg Bay.
“…Kuhuh.”
Not bad at all.
*
In the highest room of the lord’s mansion in Morg Bay, the window had become Ines’s favorite spot.
Until recently it had been the greedy Baron Rubik’s chamber. Now it was her own space—far larger and more splendid than the annex she had once occupied.
Yet Ines paid little attention to the luxury. Her eyes were fixed on the dark silhouettes appearing on the horizon.
—Bwooooooooo—!
A deep horn blast tore across the bay, echoing through the entire settlement.
“…!”
Ines’s fingers tightened on the windowsill.
Below, sailors who had been working or standing watch all turned toward the sea at once.
Six black flags bearing the skull-and-anchor emblem approached. Behind them, two massive ships were being towed, their masts shattered and decks swarming with bound men.
“Looks like the Captain’s back,” Yona murmured, exhaling a plume of smoke from her pipe.
Ines barely heard her. Her gaze had locked onto the flagship at the head of the formation—Queen Marianne’s Revenge.
Standing arrogantly on the prow was a single figure in a black coat, the red sunset at his back.
He looked less like a baron and more like a king who ruled these waters.
The ships glided into the harbor one by one. Dozens of men poured onto the docks, wrists and ankles lashed together. Some wore the uniforms of the Draund family; others bore the tattoos of hardened pirates. Every eye was filled with the same raw, primal fear of the man who had brought them here.
“…What will happen to them?” Ines asked quietly.
“They’ll become fertilizer,” Yona answered, pointing at the harbor.
“You’ve seen it yourself. Morg Bay has been starving for too long. The soil is barren, the walls are crumbling.”
“…Yes.”
“Those prisoners will haul stone and till fields under the lash. Though it feels strange coming from a former pirate… well, pirates aren’t really people, are they?”
Ines swallowed hard.
In the south, pirates were usually executed on the spot—either starved to death in iron cages or hanged cleanly. Using them as labor might be seen as mercy, and mercy could earn Leandro Silva’s displeasure.
Yet Haydam strode ashore without the slightest concern, driving the captives before him.
At that exact moment, a frenzied roar erupted from the walls.
“Haydam! Haydam!! Haydam!!!”
Ines finally understood.
The man who had become her husband was, without question, a Pirate King—someone no one could easily oppose, an idol to many, and a force capable of bringing ruin to anyone who stood in his way.
Perhaps, just perhaps…
“My lady, shall we go down? You should tell your husband about your constitution.”
“…Yes.”
The belief that the man below might be able to help her had begun to take root.