CHAPTER 223

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CHAPTER 223

295 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

Lord Sunderland had regained some semblance of composure, his initial panic replaced with a grim understanding of the situation. It was clear to him that chasing down Lord Drasil and the Druid's army was an impossible endeavor. The bickering lords around him faded into the background, their words falling on deaf ears as he chose to ignore their fruitless arguments. The only path forward was to regroup, repair their crippled fleet, and hope that their men left behind at their castles could hold out until potential aid arrived from the Vale.

Turning to his men, he roared out orders, his voice echoing with a sense of urgency. "Send someone down to fix the rudders. We don't have time to waste here!" 

A sense of desperation lingered among the Sistermen as a few brave souls were lowered into the water to repair the wrecked rudder. Their hearts pounded with both fear and determination as they still didn't know what was the cause of their fleet's demise. Yet, just as they began their perilous task, the sea erupted with sudden violence, and an orca leaped from the water's surface. With a mighty toss of its head, the creature sent the sailors tumbling into the cold waves.

Helplessly, the Sistermen could only bear witness to the aquatic spectacle that unfolded. Repun, the rambunctious leader of the orcas, plunged beneath the surface alongside his pod members. They circled the disoriented sailors, some gently pushing them up and out of the water while others playfully herded them like toys.

Amidst the underwater chaos, Repun's voice echoed with exuberance as he directed his companions. 

-Guys, open up a way for me!- 

With a burst of power, he rocketed from the ocean's depths, his sleek body propelled like a bullet. He charged toward the surface. At the last moment, just as he breached the surface, he executed a masterful maneuver, changing his trajectory and, with the pent-up kinetic energy, aiming directly for one of the hapless men. With all his might, he delivered a crushing blow with his powerful tail, launching the Sistermen sailor high into the air. The unfortunate man's broken and mangled lifeless body arced through the sky like a grotesque, macabre firework display before making a chilling splash onto the ship's deck, accompanied by desperate and terrorized screams of the Sistermen sailors.

The horrifying spectacle of the orcas playing their macabre game continued as other members of the pod emulated Repun's malevolent act. Four unfortunate sailors were sent hurtling into the air by the beasts. Unlike Repun's devastating impact of the instant killing blow, the other orcas could not replicate the same power. 

Consequently, they couldn't send the sailors high into the air, so they crashed violently against the sides of the ships, their bodies transformed into gruesome splash arts of gore and blood. Repun resurfaced and looked at the gory sight with pride like he was observing some modern art exhibit. 

The Sistermen, gripped by terror and revulsion, could only stare in morbid shock. Amidst the nightmarish scene, the largest orca of the group resurfaced again, its gleaming black eyes seemingly fixed upon the onlookers. The creature seemed to shake its head in a mockery of glee, and its eerie vocalizations took on an unnerving semblance of laughter as if it reveled in the horror it had wrought.

Repun's exceptional strength was largely attributed to being Aermir's familiar; he had been a familiar for over six months. During this time, he had grown significantly larger than the other orcas in his pod, becoming the undeniable apex predator among them. While he was only about 20% larger than his kin, his supernatural abilities, fueled by the mana coursing through his body, made him more than 50% powerful. This incredible strength set him apart from the rest of his pod, granting him unparalleled dominance among his kind.

...

The Sistermen lords, their pride shattered by the relentless orca onslaught, grasped at a fading ember of hope, convincing themselves that perhaps the capricious sea would wash them ashore, sparing them from the horrors of the deep. They clung to the notion that the orcas might lose interest and grant them mercy by leaving, their fragile optimism masking the gnawing fear that had taken root in their hearts.

Unbeknownst to them, the vigilant raven, an emissary of Aermir's will, hovered nearby, its ebony eyes fixated on the drifting ships and their beleaguered occupants. Whenever the ships started going in the direction of the shore, the orcas would stir them back towards the middle of the Bite.

Aermir harbored no intention of letting these lords escape their well-deserved fate. He had plans for those warships. As Aermir and his fleet neared Three Sisters, with Longsister just two days away, he was acutely aware of the urgency of the situation. Lord Sunderland's raven messengers had been dispatched in a desperate bid for aid from the Vale Lords. Rather than interfering, Aermir allowed the ravens to continue their flight unhindered, deliberately sowing the seeds of a brewing conflict.

He knew that it would be weeks before the Vale Lords could rally their forces and arrive at the Three Sisters. In that span of time, Aermir aimed to press his advantage and potentially conquer not two but possibly all three of the islands. The swirling tides of fate seemed to align with his ambitions. As the wind turned favorable for them, Aermir again used his water elemental to provide extra speed for his fleet.

Aermir dispatched ravens to Lord Stark and numerous Northern houses, such as Manderlys, Reeds, Flints of Widow's Watch, and several others. In his messages, he informed of his recent victory over the pirate houses of Three Sisters and declared his intentions of launching a righteous conquest over the islands. He went further, claiming that the Lords of the Vale were mustering their armies in preparation for an impending conflict.

While this part of the message was entirely false, this was most likely what Lord Sunderland's letters requested. And this will be a catalyst for a chain reaction that will turn it into a truth. Northern lords, stirred by the prospect of a war in the south and ever-vigilant to protect the Old God's honor, began mobilizing their forces. When they start amassing for the defense of the North, in strongholds like White Harbour, Oldcastle, Ramsgate, and Widow's Watch, Simultaneously, in the Vale, lords will begin gathering their own troops along the shores of the Bite.

Even this was more than enough for Aermir to implement his real plan. If a war broke out, he could earn even more power, but with Lord Arryn and Stark at the helm, it was not likely. In contrast, he held out hope that some spark might ignite greater conflict.