Chapter 46

The pirate ships approached with astonishing speed, their black sails billowing in the rising wind. The wooden hulls glided through the water like silent predators charging towards their prey. 

The first ship was only a few meters away when the pirates got into position on the decks. Their faces were lined with dirt and greed, their eyes sparkling with anticipation of bloodshed.

With a dull thud, the first pirate ship bumped into the side of Myranda's ship. The grappling hooks flew in an arc over the railing and hooked into the wood with a sharp click. The ropes were pulled tight, and in one swift, flowing pull, the pirates drew their ships close to that of their prey.

"What ... are those?" asked one of the pirates when he saw the Warborn for the first time. His face twisted in disgust and disbelief.

"I don't care!" shouted another pirate with an axe in his hand as he pushed against one of his comrades with his shoulder to move forward faster. "They'll bleed like all the others and die like all the others. Let's go, lads!"

With a wild shout, the pirates charged forward, clutching their weapons tightly.

But the first pirate to jump down from the ship's rail was immediately grabbed by the neck in mid-air. He trembled like a fish that had been pulled out of the water and tried desperately with both hands to loosen the tightening grip on his neck. 

His legs kicked wildly, but it was in vain. The Warborn effortlessly held him in the air, its steel fist squeezing mercilessly until his neck burst and blood sprayed in all directions.

When the Warborn released him and the motionless body fell to the ground, the once strong neck looked like a crushed tube, completely deformed and lifeless.

"Weak," the Warborn growled, his voice eerily deep.

Despite the brutal scene unfolding before them, more ships docked. Many of the approaching pirates had not seen the gruesome execution of their comrade and rushed onto the ship like unleashed beasts.

Their eyes were full of greed and bloodlust as they leapt onto the decks with weapons drawn and loud war cries, ready to mow down anything in their path.

The pirates poured across the deck like a tidal wave, their footsteps echoing loudly across the planks as they charged the Warborn.

The first pirate who dared to approach them slashed at one of the Warborn with his sword. But instead of feeling the resistance of flesh as his sword passed through the body, severing organae and tendons, he felt pain.

He cried out loudly as he looked at his hands that had lost the sword, but that was not the only thing they had lost. Because the connection to his arms was also gone.

It seemed as if his shrieks disturbed the Warborn, who raised the sword and cut his body from top to bottom with one blow to silence him for good.

Similar scenes took place all over the deck. Pirates leapt from the sides of the other ships, their weapons drawn, ready for battle. But every time they encountered the Warborn, they were repulsed with merciless force.

A pirate charging at a Warborn was decapitated with a single swift blow. His body staggered on for a moment before falling lifeless to the ground, blood spraying into the air and staining the deck. 

Another pirate attempting to strike a Warborn with an axe saw his end come when his attack came to naught and the Warborn punched his chest with a well-aimed blow. His ribs cracked under the force of the blow and he sank to the ground with a choked gurgle.

Despite the brutally clear superiority of the Warborn, the pirates continued to pour onto the deck as if caught in a bloody frenzy. Some of them, unable to bear the sight of their fallen comrades, screamed in rage and ran at the Warborn with weapons raised. But the results were always the same: torn bodies, broken bones and screams that quickly died away.

The Warborn fought with a coldness that seemed almost inhuman. Their faces showed no emotion as they wreaked havoc. One of them strode through the corpses on the deck and grabbed a pirate with one hand as he tried to save himself in a corner. With a single, merciless grip, the Warborn crushed his neck and the pirate fell to the ground dead, his eyes wide open in an expression of horror.

What the Warborn noticed too late, however, was that some of the pirates were skillfully diverting their attention while others were already smashing the doors to the inner cabins with their axes.

Splinters of wood flew through the air as the solid wooden doors gave way under the powerful blows of the pirates. Once inside, the attackers stormed through the narrow corridors of the ship's interior with grim faces and weapons in hand.

Myranda cowered in the corner of the cabin, trembling with fear as the tears continued to stream down her cheeks.

She pressed herself as hard as she could against the wall, desperately trying to make herself invisible as the sounds of the breaking door grew louder and louder.

Every swing of the axes made the door shake, and with every tug the pirates gave the door, her heartbeat quickened.

When an axe finally broke through the wooden door, she let out a scream of utter despair. Panic overwhelmed her and she pressed her trembling hands tightly against her mouth, hoping to stifle the next scream.

"There's a girl inside!" a voice shouted loudly and full of excitement.

Myranda felt her heart racing in her chest as her worst imagination became reality.

The door, the last obstacle between her and the pirates, was finally broken down.

A face appeared in the doorway, smeared with dirt and grinning maniacally. "How are you, my pretty?" the man sneered and laughed loudly before suddenly being thrown forcefully to the side.

"Out of the way, she's mine," growled an even larger figure that appeared behind him. In Myranda's eyes, this pirate was even more terrifying than the first, with a disfigured, grim face and yellow, rotting teeth.

Myranda pressed herself even tighter into the corner of the cabin, her eyes wide with fear. The taller pirate entered the room with heavy steps, his dirty boots leaving muddy tracks on the wooden floor. His breath smelled of alcohol and rot.

"Well, well, what have we here?" He bent down to her. "Such a pretty thing. We're going to have a lot of fun together."

"D-Don't you dare," Myranda stammered fearfully, "don't you know who this ship belongs to? I personally serve Kaelarys of House Baelaeron."

"And who would that be?" he laughed in her face, apparently not recognizing the name.

She should have known. They were all savages, uncultured and ignorant people who didn't know what they were doing.

"One of the Dragonlords," she added in a trembling voice, a spark of hope returning to her eyes as she noticed how the word 'Dragonlord' resonated with the pirates and fear sprouted in their faces.

The larger pirate, who had just been staring at her with a sickening grin, suddenly paused. His eyes widened for a moment as he realized what she had said. He glanced nervously at the other men, who hesitated as well.

"Dragonlord?" muttered one of the pirates in disbelief, his courage suddenly seeming to fade. "We are fucked..."

The leader hesitated, but then his face contorted into a scowl. "Stop this nonsense!" he roared and took a step towards Myranda. "Dragonlord or not, she can't come out here to tell anyone if she's dead!"

Myranda closed her eyes, unable to control the trembling of her body.

Myranda clutched at her necklace as the pirate approached her. The necklace Kaelarys had given her suddenly began to pulse, a faint glow that grew brighter with each step the pirate took. Myranda felt her heart beat faster, but fear held her captive, unable to move.

The pirate grinned triumphantly as he reached out for her, ready to tear her dress with a single tug. 

But the moment his fingers touched her skin, his body suddenly froze. His eyes widened in horror and he began to tremble as red lines spread like lightning across his entire body.

The lines glowed intensely for a moment before the pirate fell to the ground with a guttural gasp. His body lay motionless, as if he had been abandoned by life itself. A moment of silence fell over the cabin before one of the other pirates shouted in shock: "Demon!"

Panic broke out, the men screamed in confusion and stumbled back, away from Myranda as if she were a witch. "I'm out of here!" one of them shouted in panic. "First the monsters outside and now the witch?!"

But before he could reach the door, a Warborn stepped into the cabin with thunderous steps, his massive form blocking the way. The few pirates still standing froze in fear.

The Warborn grabbed the nearest pirate without hesitation.

With a single, brutal jerk, he tore the man's head from his shoulders as if it were a piece of paper.

Blood splattered against the walls of the cabin and the pirate's remains fell limply to the floor.

The remaining pirates stood transfixed, unable to comprehend what had just happened before their eyes.

But the Warborn showed no mercy. His mighty hands grabbed the nearest man, pulled him towards him and snapped his neck with a cruel crunch.

None of the men had a chance to escape.

Myranda, still cowering in the corner, could hardly comprehend the carnage. The screams of the pirates echoed in her head as the Warborn raged on unstoppable.

The last pirate still standing looked into the merciless eyes of the Warborn and knew that his fate was sealed. He tried to flee, turned and ran towards the door, but the Warborn was faster. With one mighty leap, he was at him, grabbed him by the neck and lifted him into the air.

The pirate's eyes bulged, his hands scratched desperately at the Warborn's steel grip, but it was in vain.

With a final, devastating grip, the Warborn tore his spine from his body and carelessly tossed the lifeless body aside. The muffled sound of the falling body marked the end of the massacre.

He held out a bloody hand to her, not to hurt her, but to help her get up. "You are safe," he rumbled in a deep, booming voice.

Myranda's whole body trembled and now she understood why they had the names Warborn and why Kaelarys had placed these creatures at her side.

With a trembling hand she took the outstretched hand and let herself be pulled up but almost fell down again when her legs became weak after her body had expelled all the adrenaline.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, another long chapter with 2k words.

Also, ngl, I am spoiling you a bit too much righ now with the chapters, but I am kinda motivated, idk.

This is how the fights would look like in the future? Good or suggestions for improvement? You know, they are always welcome.

Yours,

Jasonenrick!