Mana System Chapter 220: Turncoat (Patreon)

Captain Grulaine hissed in annoyance as his second in command handed him his “orders”. His second flinched back and hurried out of the room. If he hadn’t, Grulaine may have cut him down in a fit of pique. It galled Grulaine to be under the thumb of another. He had gotten rid of his father for that very same reason. And now thanks to a series of unfortunate events, he found himself beholden to the damn pirate king Black Gar’s lap dog.

How was he to know the repair yard where he went was controlled by that snake. If he had he certainly wouldn’t have agreed to the loan to effect repairs to his cannons and ship. Repairs that had taken far longer than necessary, and left Grulaine on the sidelines as the entire protectorate seemed to be crumbling around him. An opportunity-rich environment he wasn’t able to take advantage of.

But that wasn’t the most galling part. He found that his repairs were delayed on purpose so Gar could tighten his stranglehold on the local pirates. By the time Grulaine realized this, it was too late to leave. Five of the pirate kings’ top captains had shown up. Any captains or crew that refused to bend the knee, were simply killed. Without access to their ships, they had little way to stand up and fight.

He ripped open the sealed envelope and tossed it aside, reading the contents inside.

He was being ordered to reinforce the Enforcer’s fleet for some mission. What that mission was, he wasn’t notified about. He was only given the location of an island base and told to be there within a certain time. What wasn’t said was that if he failed to show up, he might as well pack his bags, tuck his tail between his legs, and flee because no place within the Isles would be safe for him.

Grulaine crumpled the piece of paper and hurled it against the wall of his ship’s cabin. The repairs that were held up for so long were magically completed after he agreed to serve. With no other option but to follow these orders, he stormed out of his cabin and started barking orders to his crew. He would do as demanded until he saw an opening. Then he would strike.

***

Admiral Markath realized something was off long before he lost contact with the capital. He managed to gather together three task forces worth of ships before making his way to the island.

He could already see smoke rising in the distance and he urged his captains to hurry. His scout ships were reporting a large pirate armada laying waste to the island. Preliminary numbers said the pirates outnumbered his fleet by three to one. But Markath was a patriot and he would not back down until he either died or took the enemy with him.

He ordered his ships to group into three and focus on one target. His only hope for success was reducing the pirate fleets numbers enough to chase them off.

The fight kicked off as scouts from both sides engaged one another. Unlike the spread-out pirate ships, Markath’s fleet was in tight formation. They carved into the weaker ships on the backline of the pirate advance without slowing.

The fact that no enemy fighters attempted to board any of the Admiral's ships, boded ill for the citizens below.

Enemy ship after enemy ship dropped from the sky. Then one of Markath’s ships took too many hits and went down. The battle had already overflown the island so when the ship hit, it caused a massive amount of damage. The Admiral winced internally but kept pushing his fleet ahead. The surprise had faded and the enemy was beginning to come together.

The battle raged back and forth as more and more ships were lost. Markath’s fleet was dealing significant losses to the pirates but with each ship he lost, he was pressured more and more. He cursed the Guild ships he saw waiting in the distance. They could easily help turn the tide of this battle but they floated there, silent and uncaring for who the victor was in this battle.

Then Markath saw the capital ship of the enemy fleet. It was easily twice the size of any other ship. With five decks of guns and the telltale blue halo of an enormously powerful shield around it.

Markath knew this ship and cursed. For he had already spotted two other ships belonging to the pirate kings’. Somehow the pirate kings’ had come together and Admiral Markath shuddered at the realization.

Making the hardest decision of his life, Markath ordered his fleet to retreat. More ships would have to be gathered to deal with this menace.

Unfortunately, the pirate fleet wasn’t so accommodating to his wishes. His remaining ships were forced to battle a fighting retreat, losing another eight ships in the exchange while only taking out an even dozen of the enemy ships.

By now Admiral Markath knew something was going on. He had spotted all of the capital ships of the pirate kings’ fleets. And not a single order had come from the city. He could only think of one reason for this, and that was one or more traitors within their ranks. It meant the Protectorate leadership was likely dead.

Markath directed his remaining ships to the Legion stronghold of Parsa. He sent the few remaining scout ships that survived the conflict to alert the other captains and admirals of what had transpired here. He would likely be labeled a traitor by his fellow admirals but he was fine with that. He wouldn’t needlessly throw his men’s lives away in the suicidal pursuit of revenge.

***

Garinyion, or as most people knew him, Black Gar, walked amongst the rubble of a stately villa. After the disappointing retreat of the Protectorate forces, it hadn’t taken his men long to secure the entire city for their own.

There were a few holdouts but nothing in this once grand residence. The inside of the residence showed very little in the way of damage. Some of the priceless art was splattered with blood but Gar didn’t mind. He found it heightened the pieces. Perhaps he would hang them in his stateroom.

He stepped through the ornately decorated double doors that were now broken and hanging to the side. The room was the typical royal meeting hall. With a long hall, carpeted in rich fabric. There were torn and tattered banners hanging from the second-floor balcony and the room showed the most signs of fighting out of any within the villa.

At the end of the room sat an ornate throne made from some magical wood. The throne was elevated by one step above everyone who came to greet the former master. When Gar looked at the throne, he smiled widely.

“Prince Lameen, so good of you to wait for my arrival,” Gar said with a mocking bow.

The Prince tried to respond but blood trickled from his mouth and down his chin.

“There, there, Prince, let me help you,” Jard said as he came from behind the chair and gently wiped the blood from the Prince's lip while injecting him with a health potion.

The prince jerked, trying to get away but his arms, legs, and even torso were pinned to the throne by a multitude of daggers and long jagged blades.

“Le- me go,” the Prince wheezed out.

“Now why would I want to do that?” Gar asked. “You’re my guest. Or am I yours? …I guess it doesn’t matter. You do know, it isn’t nice to scheme against your guest, people might think you…untrustworthy.”

The Prince tried to shake his head in denial, but Gar just tsked him. “There is no point denying it. I have had agents among your staff and loyal people for decades. Even now, half of your ships are being overrun by crews loyal to me. The other half will then be crushed by their former friends. And you, my fine Prince,” Gar slapped him lightly on the cheek a few times, “will get to watch as your hopes and dreams are all crushed beneath my cunning plans.”

Gar watched as tears began to drip from the Prince's eyes. He reached up and plucked a tear away.

“Why,” the Prince managed to force out of his raw throat.

“Why? Why not? I have the power, why wouldn’t I take everything you have? Did you assume I was some spurned local back for revenge? Psh, as if I cared one iota about this place,” Gar said, gesturing around the room with one arm, while he gripped the prince’s shoulder with the other. His grip elicited a wince of pain as the man struggled against the blades holding him in place. “No, I will do as I have done for hundreds of years. Take what belongs to me and burn everything else before I move on to something bigger and better. You aren’t anything new or special, Prince Lameen. There are always people who reach beyond their means. The gullible many, and I have made an art form out of bending fools like you to my whim. So don’t cry over your failure now. Be glad that you get to join the ranks of my defeated foes.” Gar added with a devilish smile as he grabbed the Prince by the hair and ripped him off the throne causing him to scream in agony. “Come, little Lord, witness the end of your country.”

***

Somewhere in a nondescript stretch of sky, two dark-blue octopods flashed into being.

Xiph easily kept them aloft with his psionic abilities as he waited for his partner's report.

He heard an indistinct burble come from his companion moments before he got the telepathic message. “Here! Closer.” Ulq raised a tentacle and pointed to a group of barely visible floating creatures in the distance. He didn’t recognize their species but they resembled familiar monsters from their home. Dangerous creatures that could stun and kill even him.

“We must be cautious if we are getting near our prey. I will freeze time while you hurriedly extract the information from them. We must be gone before my spell ends or the side effects will be disastrous.” Xiph coached his partner. Already he could see their mana disturbance had attracted the creatures’ attention.

He quickly spun his tentacles in a complex spell form that left burning crimson lines in the air behind his movements. A complex spell array was taking shape as he moved faster and faster, his mana usage drawing the floating creatures to them even faster.

“You only have a minute, then I will teleport us away.”

He could feel the burbling annoyance coming from Ulq but he ignored it as his last tentacle snapped the spell form closed and everything besides the two of them froze. “GO!”

Xiph watched Ulq zip toward the creatures as he monitored his quickly emptying mana pool. His mana regeneration rate was prodigious but this spell was one of the highest level spells he had ever acquired, being tier three.

If Ulq’s power didn’t require direct contact to determine fate lines, it wouldn’t be necessary for Xiph to utilize this spell at all. Already he could feel the spell slipping and some of the creatures had started shaking violently as they bumped into each other even before his spell took hold. As Ulq worked, Xiph Scanned the creatures. They were named gossomers and his spell let him know that they contained highly explosive mana gas mixtures. It was no wonder they had been attracted to his magic and he was glad his Danger Sense had alerted him.

After testing five of the creatures, Ulq finally flailed his tentacles about in satisfaction. “Link!”

Finally, after more than a month of blundering around blindly, they had found a new link to their quarry. “Come, my spell is becoming unstable.”

Ulq rushed back to his side as Xiph split a hole in reality. Ulq rushed through and Xiph entered right behind him. As the spatial tear closed, time restarted. If anyone were in the area to witness it, they would have seen an entire school of gossomers detonate in a massive explosion.