HoG - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Pirate Funeral

"Hurry, everyone who's still breathing, on your feet! Redistribute the crew, climb the masts, we need to reef the sails in this force 7 gale!"

"Secure all the lines, switch the square sails to fore-and-aft!"

"Helmsman, is the helmsman still with us? Port tack, close-hauled sailing, northeast by east, three points on the compass. A warship with only square sails won't stand a chance against us in this wind."

The 'Maneater' remained oblivious to the warship's battle damage, focusing instead on widening the gap between them.

The surviving pirates had no time to rest. After hastily bandaging their wounds, they sprang into action under the captain's and officers' commands.

With over half their number lost, the ship's operations were stretched thin.

Nonetheless, the 'Maneater' inched northeast, defying the howling sea breeze.

It was a testament to the sailing ships' ability to navigate not just with, but against the wind—a feat achieved through the application of the Bernoulli principle, akin to how airplanes fly.

As air flowed over the sail's arc-shaped surface, it generated forward and upward lift, propelling the hull forward due to the pressure difference.

The efficiency of sailing against the wind varied with different rigging.

Fore-and-aft sails, adept at catching the wind, excelled in a tailwind but were outmatched by their counterparts when facing into the wind.

For instance, with a northerly wind, a fore-and-aft rigged ship could sail close-hauled along a northeast by east or northwest by west course, at a 30-40° angle from the north.

This sailing technique, which kept the ship as close as possible to the wind direction, was known as "close-hauled sailing" or "hugging the wind."

The 'Maneater', now with its port side facing the wind, could be more accurately described as "port tack against the wind—hugging the wind sailing."

By alternating between left and right hugs of the wind in a "zigzag" pattern, the ship could effectively "sail against the wind."

Fore-and-aft rigged ships could maintain a close-hauled course within a 30-40° angle to either side of the wind direction.

In contrast, pure square-rigged warships could only manage a 67° close-hauled angle.

The limitation was due to the square sail yards' movement being restricted by the rigging supporting the masts, allowing for a maximum rotation of only about 50° to either side.

This constraint forced the warship's minimum angle to the wind to be greater than 60°.

Anyone familiar with the Pythagorean theorem could appreciate the vast difference in efficiency between "Z" courses made with 30° and 60° angles.

Had the 'Maneater' attempted to sail against the wind from the start of the pursuit, it would have been easily overtaken by the warship exploiting the tailwind.

But now, with the tables turned, as long as they could extend their lead in this force 7 gale, the 'Severe' cruiser would be unable to catch them with their fore-and-aft sails.

Byron, with knowledge from his past life, was aware of an even more advanced type of sailing ship—the Bermuda-rigged hybrid.

This design combined the strengths of square and fore-and-aft sails, representing the zenith of small pirate ship development.

However, he was not ready to unveil this modification plan, unless the 'Maneater' were to be renamed 'Lancaster.'

When the naval flags could no longer be seen beyond the towering waves, the pirates finally exhaled in relief.

Having achieved the impossible, many survivors still felt as if they were in a dream.

"Did we truly survive?!"

"If we told this tale in the pirate port, they'd never believe us, hahaha..."

"The sea has favored us."

Of course, everyone knew who the greatest hero was.

Aside from the enigmatic action of preventing the enemy from planting the flag, Byron's other contributions were plain to see.

Modifying and adjusting the sails, halting the rampaging cannons, saving numerous comrades with his exceptional swordsmanship, and accurately predicting weather changes—Byron's actions were nothing short of heroic.

His precision in launching incendiary bombs at the warship further cemented his status.

Compared to the seasoned pirates of the North Sea, Mr. Byron Tudor seemed more like a child of the sea, an intrinsic part of the blue expanse.

Without him, the 'Maneater' would have been doomed, even with a supernatural captain.

Of course, the "great contributor," Mr. Byron, would never reveal that he was the one who had attracted the navy's attention.

Facing the intense gazes of his peers, Byron appeared composed, yet his inner tension never fully subsided.

"Our escape was a fluke, a miscalculation by the York family.

In their eyes, I was just a boy, not even a supernatural being five days prior.

Dispatching a fifth-rate ship, a 'Jurist' from the Judiciary sequence, and a 'Fortress Guardian' from the Fortress sequence was already overkill.

They were unaware of my two talents that awakened with my 'Spirituality' sublimation, and with the aid of the 'Navigation Log,' I had transformed."

'Cognitive Correction' concealed his true nature flawlessly.

'Weather Intuition' allowed him to mimic a 'Navigator' from the Lighthouse sequence.

Without these supernatural abilities, he would have perished alongside the pirates at sea.

Byron was acutely aware of his situation.

He knew that luck might not favor him again.

Power! Only by wielding stronger supernatural powers and building a formidable armed force could he truly be self-reliant.

As dusk settled, the pirates tasked with clearing the battlefield stripped the bodies of the naval soldiers and consigned them to the sea.

Forty-two pirate corpses were laid out neatly on the deck.

The second mate and a dozen others lost on the cruiser could not even be recovered.

Byron joined the crew on the deck to pay respects to their fallen comrades.

In accordance with maritime tradition, they placed the bodies into empty wine barrels, covering their eyes with two silver coins.

It was believed that only in this manner could the pirates' sinful souls purchase passage to the afterlife aboard the ghost ships that roamed the seas.

One by one, the barrels plunged into the tumultuous sea.

Byron, hand on the hilt of his sword, watched the barrels drift away, joining the pirates in singing the North Bay funeral song, "The Call of Valhalla":

Oh, hear the tale of the fjord so cold,

Where our ship's hull leaves its icy hold.

The raven's wings, they beat above,

Over the vast domain we love.

War songs and legends, our destiny's call,

We are the shield, we are the spear, standing tall.

Sharing hardships, sharing plunder,

For honor, we stand united, asunder.

Through fire and thunder, we sail the night,

With glory as our eternal light.

Valhalla's call, it echoes clear,

For warriors bold, with nothing to fear.

War songs and legends, our destiny's call,

We are the shield, we are the spear, standing tall.

Sharing hardships, sharing plunder,

For honor, we stand united, asunder.

The sea, it roars, the skies, they crack,

But we sail on, for honor's sake.

With every wave, our spirits rise,

In Valhalla, our glory lies.

So raise your voice, let the chorus swell,

Of the fjord, the raven, and our domain so vast.

For we are the guardians of the northern sea,

In Valhalla, we'll forever be.

War songs and legends, our destiny's call,

We are the shield, we are the spear, standing tall.

Sharing hardships, sharing plunder,

For honor, we stand united, asunder.

So here's to the ship, and the cold fjord's tide,

To the raven's flight, and the legends we ride.

For in our hearts, the war song plays,

As we sail into Valhalla's eternal rays.

The pirates, accustomed to death, sang with a spirited vigor, more like a war chant than a lament.

As descendants of the Old Continent's pirate heritage, the North Bay people, who once ravaged the entire continent, had left an indelible mark on this ancient profession.

From establishing the 'Pirate Code' to pioneering the Lighthouse sequence, to the 'Storm Knights' who turned white upon landing, and various traditions and ceremonies—their influence was profound.

The belief in an eternal afterlife in Valhalla instilled fearlessness in the face of death.

Legend spoke of an Grand Hall filled with succulent pork, beef, and mutton.

They drank fine wine, feasted endlessly, and were served by beautiful fairies in fur coats, peeling garlic for them—a life of unending joy.

As a direct descendant of Reinhardt, the "Blue Dragon King" of the North Bay, Byron was well-versed in these tales.

He did not lament his fall from prince to pirate; instead, he found a sense of ease.

However, as the song concluded, Byron felt a sudden chill down his spine.

He turned to see Salman, the "Blood Eye," expressionless and limping towards him.