The Grand Duke's Soulmate
Chapter 358: An Unforeseen Strike

Chapter 358: An Unforeseen Strike

The sky had turned dark, casting an ominous shadow over the surrounding islands. Silence enveloped the area as the night settled in, except for the nocturnal animal sounds. The rotation of the night shift soldiers guarding the camp had commenced as scheduled.

The camp chief’s face was etched with frustration, and he shouted, "Cr*p! Why haven’t they returned yet?"

His words reflect the growing unease in his expression. Seated at a table within the main barrack of the Ardel stronghold camp with him was Captain Blackmane of the Calico Pirates of the East, the leader of the pirates and mercenaries group.

The pirate captain reclined in his chair, legs stretched out upon the wooden table, projecting an air of nonchalance. The camp chief, also a high-ranking Knight of Barges, was seemingly annoyed by the pirate captain’s seemingly uncaring demeanour.

He lashed out to him, "Remove your feet from my table, you wretched scoundrel!"

Unfazed by the chief’s outburst, Captain Blackmane sneered, "F*ck yer! Why be ye bellerin’ at me like a mangy mutt when ’twas yer own crew that be the root o’ this blasted predicament? Them landlubbers went off searchin’ for some bilge water, yet ain’t seen ’em since yesterday, and now ye be spoutin’ yer vexation at me!"

In response, the camp chief rose from his seat, his gaze stern and unwavering.

"You better put it down, or I shall sever your feet! Do not think your leadership among the pirates and mercenaries grants you superiority over me. This is my camp, and my rules run here!"

Captain Blackmane raised his voice, "Ye be wantin’ to make this here situation even more o’ a mess, do ye? Be ye set on findin’ fault an’ puttin’ things from bad to worse?"

The camp chief’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the pirate leader. The two had always been at odds, their enmity boiling beneath the surface even though their collaboration was necessary.

"The King of Ardel has appointed me to oversee this camp. I decide who will be the group’s leader, be they mercenaries or pirates. You will heed my orders if you wish to maintain your position and receive your payment on time. Otherwise, I will find another pirate to replace you."

Captain Blackmane berated himself in irritation. Although he held contempt for the knight, he recognised the camp chief’s prowess in combat as equal to his own. The same went for the other Knights of Barges employed at the camp.

The pirate captain understood that continually provoking him would not serve his best interests, especially with other pirates eyeing his position, which came with greater rewards under King Ronan’s patronage.

In a sullen behaviour, he begrudgingly withdrew his legs from the table and stomped his feet on the ground.

"Now we be seein’ eye to eye, savvy?"

A smug smile crossed the camp chief’s face.

"That’s more like it."

Captain Blackmane grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression filled with discontent.

After a moment of brooding silence, he posed a question, "Ye’ve sent out another crew today to hunt down the same lubbers ye sent out yesterday mornin’, an’ yet they be missin’ in action as well, eh? Don’t that strike ye as a mite peculiar?"

The camp chief replied, "Of course I do!"

"Ye think those mangy curs have already run off and abandoned the island?" Captain Blackmane suggested.

"Why would they leave? They have no reason for it!" countered the camp chief.

"Aye, who’s to say those scurvy dogs haven’t stolen away with some o’ the mined gold for themselves, eh?" he mused, a hint of disdain in his tone.

The pirate leader then shrugged his shoulders, the accusation rolling off him effortlessly.

"Wouldn’t put it past the likes of ’em to have colluded and made off with the plunder, the treacherous r*scals."

"That’s impossible!" the camp chief declared adamantly. "We meticulously weigh every ounce of ore from the mines, and our records account for all that is gathered. My most trusted men heavily guard the storage rooms. There is simply no way they could have pulled off such a theft."

The pirate captain fixed the camp chief with a pointed gaze.

"The avarice o’ men be a fickle thing, easily kindled by the promise o’ gold an’ treasure. Nay doubt there be ’em tempted by the prospect o’ such a hefty bounty."

The camp chief threw a defiant look.

"If anyone were to attempt such a thing, it would most likely be your pirate brethren or the mercenary bands under your command."

Captain Blackmane scoffed.

"Ye be callin’ me a fool, eh?" The captain’s eyes narrowed. "We’ve got a whole fleet o’ hardened sea dogs an’ mercenary scallywags under our banner here. Any such mutinous plot would only invite a right proper bloodbath amongst us. An’ in the end, who’d be the ones to reap the rewards, eh? None of us, that’s who!"

He then leaned forward, his voice determined.

"Tis far wiser to accept a fair share of the mine’s bounty and see that our men are compensated properly rather than resort to any underhanded bloodbath schemes. After all, our motto be a simple one, we may rob the landlubbers, but we don’t be robbin’ our own kind, savvy? We still got some respect for the bounty that others have earned, even if they be a bunch of bilge rats."

The camp chief’s lips curled in disdain.

"Respect my *ss! You’re merely interested in preserving your wealth while saving yourselves from the risk of conflicts."

Captain Blackmane raised a weathered hand, his voice gruff but measured, "Believe what ye will, matey, but mark my words. ’Tis better to be prudent and gain something rather than lose everything in a foolhardy venture."

Shifting the topic, he said, "Are we sendin’ more of our hardy crew to suss out what befell ’em and see on whatever unseen peril lurks out there?"

The camp chief paused, considering the proposal.

"We shall wait until morning," he decided. "Likely, they are working to resolve the issue as we speak. If they have not returned by then, you may dispatch your men to investigate further."

"Aye. If that be yer decree."

The chief camp then spoke concernedly, "Water is a crucial resource for us. If the supply continues to dwindle, it will create a precarious situation for the camp. The mining operations will also be severely impacted. We require substantial quantities of water to sustain those activities."

He paused, pondering the sudden disruption.

"I wonder what could be causing the usual source to decrease so abruptly. It has not returned to its normal flow but keeps diminishing."

Captain Blackmane offered a theory, "Somethin’ must’ve obstructed the water. There ain’t ne’er been such a disruption since first we set foot on these accursed islands. Could it be that the spring has frozen over, thanks to the colder winds what’ve been plaguin’ us of late?"

The camp chief shook his head.

"No, I do not believe that to be the case. According to the locals, the spring never freezes, regardless of seasonal changes. Otherwise, how could there be any permanent settlements here? Without reliable freshwater sources, these islands would be uninhabitable. That is why several smaller islands nearby lie abandoned. The water supply was simply insufficient to sustain a large population."

"Very well, then, me bold buccaneer." the pirate captain conceded.

He rose from his seat, the sound of the wooden chair screeched against the ground.

"See to it that me crew stands ready, just in case the need arises."

As the camp chief nodded in acknowledgement, the sound of hurried footsteps and a loud knock at the door interrupted them. Upon the camp chief’s order, a breathless soldier rushed in.

"My lord! The hostages have all escaped!" he reported, eyes wide with alarm.

The camp chief sprang to his feet, stunned by the unexpected news. Captain Blackmane, too, was visibly taken aback by this sudden information.

"What the h*ll happened?!" the camp chief demanded in a raised tone.

The soldier responded, "I don’t know! I was on my way to the outhouse when I discovered all the guards on duty had been incapacitated. I rushed to the back passage and found the hostages’ cells burst open! They’re all gone!"

"D*mn it! Gather our troops immediately!" the camp chief barked.

Suddenly...

’Duuummm!!’

A deafening boom echoed through the once peaceful night. A cannonball struck the central watchtower, shaking the ground. Those three men were sent sprawling to the floor. Before they could recover, another explosion rocked the camp.

’Blaaaam!’

The second watchtower was reduced to rubble, sending stones, dust, and debris flying through the air. Flames licked at the remnants, leaving a gaping hole in the camp’s defences.

The first damaged watchtower groaned, and then...

’Craaash!’

It collapsed, toppling onto other nearby tents and structures occupied by the mercenaries. Shrieks of panic filled the air as fire began to spread.

"We’re under attack!" the guarding soldiers shouted, their voices laced with terror.

Chaos erupted as everyone within the camp scrambled in a frenzy, many having been roused from their rest.

Captain Blackmane and the camp chief rushed out of the main barracks, surveying the catastrophic scene with horror. Some soldiers, mercenaries and pirates fought to extinguish the flames, while others hastily formed ranks to retaliate.

However, their attempt to reach the weapons storage was thwarted.

’Booooom!’

Another explosion rocked the area near the armoury.

"It’s a trap! Don’t go near the storage!" a soldier warned.

Blackmane and the camp chief were left alarmed as the sudden assault ceased. Their enemies were nowhere to be seen, likely having launched the devastating bombardment from a safe distance.

The attack had cost them dearly—several casualties, destroyed watchtowers, and fires raging across the camp. The exploded trap also compromised the area near the armoury.

Suddenly, Captain Blackmane saw several torches lighting up from a distance.

"My lord, someone’s coming!" another soldier who noticed the same announced.

The camp chief turned his gaze to the horizon, ready to order his men to attack the approaching group.

However, he quickly noticed a green flag amongst them—a signal of intent to negotiate.

It was a well-known military protocol in the continent that harming representatives bearing the green flag would immediately provoke a full-scale assault, with no quarter given, as the opposing side would be poised to strike.

"They be but a meagre handful!" Captain Blackmane’s eyes flash dangerously. "Let’s waste no time! We’ll cut ’em down to size, once an’ fer all!" he growled.

"Silence, you fool!" the camp chief snapped. "Do you not comprehend the meaning of the green flag on the battlefield?"

Blackmane scowled.

"How would I know? I be a salt-stained scourge o’ the seas, not some landlubbin’ soldier trained in the ways o’ war on land!"

The camp chief surveyed the chaotic scene once more. In this precarious moment, a misstep could jeopardise his entire force. Their opponents clearly held the advantage, having taken them by surprise with the sudden attack.

"Hold your weapons! Do not attack!" the camp chief ordered firmly.

"What? Have yer gone mad?" Captain Blackmane’s eyes widened in surprise at his outburst.

"Shut your mouth if you don’t know anything!" the camp chief barked. "They approach under the banner of parley. If you value your life, do not provoke them!"

The sentries quickly relayed the camp chief’s order and ran the alarm bell to summon the Knights of Barges and Calico Pirates. They gathered at the fore, prepared to receive the incoming ’guests.’

As the group drew nearer, the camp chief recognised the Firebird emblem they bore on their armour and pennant—the symbol of Cassian.

"The northerners!" the camp chief exclaimed.

A chill ran down his spine. This was the first time he and his men would face the legendary ’Guardians of the Blessed Land.’

He had heard harrowing tales from his predecessor knights about their cunning and the repeated failures to best them since the Great War.

Captain Blackmane’s eyes widened as well, for he recognised the imposing figure clad in dark armour and a deep blue cape —the same man who had defeated him in the duel during a failed raid on a Cassian cog ship.

Kyren halted before the gathering, his piercing gaze sweeping across the faces of the southerners and pirates.

His deep blue eyes settled on Captain Blackmane’s features, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Hello there, captain," the grand duke greeted. "We meet again... How is your injured hand?"