Jenah folds one leg over the other and leans back in her chair as she considers the boss’s goals. She idly glances around the ship’s mess, still put off by the changes made in her short absence. The room is, for the first time since her acquisition of the vessel, clean and being used for its intended purpose. As her crew was a bunch of zombies, so she had been using the galley for cargo.

She finally nods and comes to the right conclusion. “You’re insane,” she declares.

Her accusation gets glares from the three dozen [Maids] present, which does not change her blase attitude one whit. She’s contracted to serve as a [Captain] for this asshole, not a [Slave]. She’s allowed to speak her mind when her boss, now introduced to her as Quasi, is going to get them all killed.

Quasi shrugs. “I may be–Well, okay, I probably am, but I am so incredible that despite my madness, I’ll save us all from certain doom. It’s more like a maybe doom we’ll be worrying about. That’s a lot better, right?” he asks. Before Jenah can reply negatively to the rhetorical question, he waves his hand and barrels ahead. “Anyway, we’re off topic! I’m just trying to bring a child and his mother back together. Why does that make me insane?”

Jenah raises an eyebrow at his words. She glances at his companions, who have mostly ignored the conversation. Considering their nonchalance, she concludes that he’s probably joking. A joker is fun when you’re out at a pub, but not someone she wants as her direct superior.

“[Grand Admiral] Aegir ain’t some poor excuse for a [Pirate Captain],” she warns. “He’s the seventh most powerful ship captain currently sailing the seas. It’d be easier to storm a city than try to get close to him.”

Quasi frowns. “Well, that doesn't change what I have to do.” He taps his lips. “I don't suppose we can request assistance from some other captains? Maybe even Teuta?”

Jenah grunts. “As the second most powerful captain, Teuta could take on Aegir and win. But, so long he’s got her kid, she’ll be staying back. As for the other captains, they wouldn’t want to tussle with Aegir even if they would probably win.”

“Really? No one? I thought the captains would have been angrier about the blockade.”

She scoffs. “‘Course they’re angry, but they ain’t stupid. The only captain that would have a chance of taking on Aegir and come out with a profit would be my guild leader.”

Quasi perks up. “Guild Leader?”

She nods, “He is the strongest captain of the seas and the master of the Necromancer Guild.”

Quasi perks up instantly. “Did you just say Necromancer Guild?”

She nods slowly, frowning at the growing smile on Quasi’s face.

Quasi starts quietly giggling. “Then it's decided, we’ll set a course to the Necromancers Guild and meet up with your [Guildleader]!” He quickly stands up, and starts rubbing his hands together. “But first, I have some work to do.” he turns and walks away while waving his hand, “I’ll be in the hold if you need me.” he exclaims as he exits the mess hall, leaving Jenah very confused.

She turns to his companions. “Is he always like this?” is her question to the group.

Jessica goes to nod but stops. “Actually…” she considers, “this is better than normal.”

_______________________________________________________________

The Deadheart has a larger hold than you’d expect of a ship of its size. Ships are supposed to have a limit on the amount of weight they can carry. All it takes is a bad storm and then you get capsized, and if you really overload it, you’ll sink before you can leave the docks. That’s physics for you. But, since magic doesn’t give a rat’s ass on how physics are supposed to work, and this boat’s actually a submarine, Miss Capitan doesn’t care much. And, since I’m already carrying everything we’ll need, I have a lot of free space to work.

For the sake of drama, I wait until I’m standing in the center of the hold before I get to work. Beneath my feet, my shadow coils and stretches until it coats the floor like eldritch tar. In just moments, my tools rise up and I’ve transformed the room into an [Enchanter]’s workshop. Over there’s my crystal grinder, my table focus, my drafting desk, my mini forge (I can’t use the normal one or else I might burn down the ship), and some useful spare bits lying around, just in case I need them.

With another thought, thirty six mannequins wearing the Flame-warden armor set I’d bought during the “Grand” auction rise from out my shadow. I reach down and lift up one of my other purchases, a [War Staff Of The Master].

Curious, I take a stance with the staff and feel pressure on my body as the staff attempts to correct my movements. I follow the staff's guidance and find myself taking a textbook stance. It’s a good stance; simple, straightforward, but basic. No true master would use such unrefined predictable movements. Still, it is clearly a useful enchantment.

With the staff in hand, I walk to the bow of the hold where I put my bones pre-prepared for enchanting. I pick out an exceptionally long femur and will it to disintegrate, turning it to dust. With another flex of will, the bone dust recombines into a staff mimicking the one in my hand.

“Now, what was the name of that skill?” I scroll through my ever growing skill list, annoyed with the lack of a search function. You’d think there would at least be the ability to switch around their placement in the list, or at least sort them by class, but no. “Ah, there it is. [Duplicate Enchantment].”

Like every time I enchant items greater than [Rare] tier, I feel half of my mana drain from my body to fuel the skill. It sweeps across and through the [War Staff Of The Master] before moving to the new staff of bone. After a minute, my skill ends and I behold my new weapon.

I grunt at the successful creation. Once my mana recovers, I’ll need to create another thirty-five more.

Laying the staves down, I walk to the sets of armor and take a moment to admire the enchantments.

“Well, I don't need the shield or sword since I can produce a bunch of staves,” I mutter while scratching my chin, “but the armor is going to need to be changed up.”

I place my hand on the platemail. “[Disenchant].”

My mana slips through my fingers and into the metal. Threads of energy wiggle into the enchantments, pulling the weave apart until it unravels while leaving the armor intact and physically undamaged.

Once the skill is done, I take a deep breath and activate another skill.

“[Multi-Enchant]: [Greater Durability], [Weightless], [Perfect Fit], [Dispelling Ward]”

My mana dips dangerously low as the new enchantments force themselves onto the metal. I sense the metal heating up as the enchantments struggle to take hold, but I press on with my higher class, forcing the stronger enchantments to take effect.

With the enchantment completed, I remove my hand and evaluate the new armor.

“That should work, now I just need to cover the face.”

I smile as I reach into my shadow and retrieve one of my thousands of masks. I lift it up and put it on the mannequin's face before stepping away.

I nod in satisfaction. My plan is almost complete. All I need now is–

“Master?”

I turn away from the mannequin and look at the entrance. Naunet stands there quietly with a smile on her face. She lifts up her hand and reveals the most important item to the success of this quest.

“Perfect timing,” I exclaim alongside the excited chirping above my head.

__________________________________________________________________________

“Berand,” Fonz calls as he places his arm around the young [Pirate’s] shoulders, “Being a [Pirate] doesn't mean ye ar supposta board every [Merchant] ship. Sometimes, ya hafta let ‘em go.”

Berand frowns. “But why?”

Fonz coughs and spits over the railing. “Cause ya get gutted. Ya plunder too much and ya put a target on ya back. Thas how most [Pirate Captains] get killed. Theys get greedy, so them [Merchant] folk hire [Pirate Hunters].”

“Even Tueta?” the boy asks.

The [Pirate Captain] snorts. He glances away from the ocean, looking at his crew as they try to act like they arent listening to his conversation. Not that he minds. Fonz is getting old, so sharing his decades of knowledge with whoever wants to hear it is something he enjoys.

“Not Teuta,” he shakes his head, his graying beard swishes left and right, “that wench is too strong ta fear some [Pirate Hunters].”

“Even Da–”

Fonz tightens his arm around the kid’s shoulders, interrupting him. “Don't. Don’t say his name.”

Berand swallows quickly at Fonz’s warning. The old [Pirate Captain] has seen much, and anyone whose lived as long as he has knows the true terror of the deep. To invoke the names of the deep is to invite them in.

“So, what’re we waitin’ for?” the kid asks after a moment of silence.

Fonz smiles at the change of subject, “[Merchant] ship. Sumthin’ not too big so as not to make a target, but also not too small. [Pirates] need ta eat, an small ships got small coffers.”

The [Pirate] boy frowns. He raises his hand and points into the distance, “S’that one good?”

Fonz follows the boy's finger that points to a bright red ship trailing a couple hundred meters to their stern.

Not a second later, he hears the warning bell atop the crows nest go off. Considering the ship was just sighted so close to his ship, it can only mean one thing.

“[Deathsea Captain] INCOMING! PREPARE FOR BATTLE, FULL SAIL AHEAD,” he orders to his crew and listens as every man rushes into position. He can already sense his [Pirate Cannoneers] preparing the enchanted cannons and the sails above unfurling to catch the wind, a good start for what he fears will be an annoying battle.

“Somones on da bowsprit,” Berand points again.

“Berand, git t’ya station!” he orders the kid and then looks through his spyglass at the enemy ship.

What he sees sends a shiver down his spine. A masked man stands comfortably at the tip of the bowsprit with both hands resting on a cane in front of himself. His hat is clearly a tricorn, but much, much taller than typical, and is decorated with tiny skulls. On the man's shoulder perches a bird with feathers as bright red as the ship's hull.

The masked man raises his arms, the cane in his left hand points to the sky. His right foot, in front of the left, taps the spar, one, two, three, four. He flicks his cane in time and with a snap, the crimson ship’s sails unfurl. The [Pirate Captain] hears a drumbeat rumble through the clear, blue sky. The enemy ship urges forward as though possessed.

Clearly the freak used a skill, [Captain] Fonz concludes. He opens his mouth to activate a skill of his own, but pauses as a chorus of female voices descend from the sky.

♬-There once was a ship that put to sea

And the name of that ship was the Deadheart o’ maids-♫

 

Singing. He hears a choir of women singing!

 

♫-The winds blew hard, her bow dipped down

blow, me bully boys, blow (huh)-♫

 

The singing continues, the enemy ship speeds up, and a tophatted skull and crossbones flag on a violet field runs up the mast.

“Three points t’ port,” he calls and feels his ship turn. “Port guns, ready,” he commands the [Gunner]. The pirate ship cuts across the crimson vessel’s path.

 

♫-Soon may the necromancer come

To bring us marrow and souls and rum

One day, when the reaping is done

We'll take our leave and go-♫

 

“FIRE,” he orders and feels his ship rumble as six dwarfmade magitek cannons release a long ranged [Fireball]-

-And misses as the red ship dives under water.

 

♫-She had not been two weeks from shore

When down on her a right brig bore-♫

 

Even with the enemy ship submerged, the music and voices continue.

 

“Hang all sail, two points to starboard, Prepare for ramming,” he warns his crew. [Deathsea Captain]s are notorious for ramming into their enemies and either capsizing them or breaking their keel altogether. Neither of which will happen to [Pirate Captain] Fonz. His brig is reinforced both structurally and through his passive skill and has far too much ballast to flip. Regardless, the impact alone can send [Pirates] overboard.

 

♫-The captain called all hands and swore

He'd take that brig in tow (huh)

Soon may the necromancer come

To bring us marrow and souls and rum-♫

 

He feels the impact as the enemy rams into the stern quarter of his ship.His teeth rattle, but his ship holds as he expected. The rumbling, to his surprise, continues as the enemy ship slides up the left side of his ship and breaks his magitek cannons.

 

♫-Before the boat had hit the water

The brig's stern came up and caught her

All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her

When she full sailed forward (huh)-♫

 

He hears wood crack as point blank ballistae shots smash through the side of his ship, tethering his own ship to the enemies.

“Captain, they’re boardin!” he hears his [First Mate] yell from the portside.

 

♫-Soon may the necromancer come

To bring us marrow and souls and rum-♫

 

When Fonz looks at the enemy deck, his eyes widen as armored, masked maids wielding quarterstaves hop onto his ship.

 

♫-One day, when the reaping is done

We'll take our leave and go-♫

 

“ALL HANDS ON DECK. KILL THE BOARDERS. [Swift Sortie]” he screams.

 

♫-No line was cut, no brig was freed

An' the captain's mind was not on greed-♫

 

He can hear his men roar for battle, but it all gets drowned out as he realizes the source of the singing.

 

♫-But he belonged to the pirates creed

She took that ship in tow (huh)-♫

 

The boarders are all female and they’re singing in unison!

He hears more than sees the fighting begin. Cursing under his breath, Fonz unsheathes his cutlass and rushes to fight… only to stop in disbelief as the maids spin their staves with skill and speed that shatters bone.

 

♫-Soon may the necromancer come

To bring us marrow and souls and rum-♫

 

They are fighting better than his [Veteran Pirates] while singing! What the hell is boarding his ship?

 

♫-One day, when the reaping is done

We'll take our leave and go-♫

 

Cursing his distraction, he runs towards one of the boarders and attempts to gut her, but the woman spins her staff and parries his strike. When she does, his enchanted cutlass activates its effect and unleashes an explosion of flames that pushes her away.

 

♫-For forty seconds or even more (ooh)

The fight went slack then tight once more-♫

 

When the smoke disperses, he finds the [Maid] standing up without a mask and a glowing barrier around her. She glares at him and then moves her mouth.

 

♫-No maids were lost, there were more than four

And still that brig did go-♫

 

A chill runs down his spine as the maid levels her staff towards him and continues singing.

 

♫-Soon may the necromancer come

To bring us marrow and souls and rum

One day, when the reaping is done

We'll take our leave and go-♫

 

She rushes him and spins her staff, aiming to strike him down. He attempts to parry the strike to activate his sword's enchantment, but the woman's attack is a feint. She twists her body and attempts an overhead chop. Cursing, he rolls backwards and avoids the staff as it cracks the deck with enough force to break bone. When he finishes the roll, his eyes align with the maids face.

The [Maid] smiles and her mouth moves.

 

♫-As far as I've heard, the fight's still on

The line's not cut, and the brig's not gone-♫

 

She rushes again and the fighting between her and him continues. Even though he probably has more levels and is physically stronger, her skill and speed dwarf his own by a large margin, so much so that she is forcing him back without allowing him a single riposte.

 

♫-The necromancer makes his regular call

To encourage the captain, crew and all-♫

 

And she does so while singing that damn song.

After evading another strike, he takes a moment to glance at the rest of his crew, only to find them all dead, their bodies crushed to pieces. Not a single one is left alive.

 

♫-Soon may the necromancer come

To bring us marrow and souls and rum-♪♫

 

They can't possibly be simple [Maids]. How can they fight off his [Veteran Pirates] so easily?

 

♫-One day, when the reaping is done

We'll take our leave and go-♫

 

His distraction costs him as the maid leans under his sword with a twist and sweeps her staff, shattering his legs. Fonz falls with a scream and drops his cutlass. He scrambles to get up but a foot on his chest pins him down.

 

♫-Soon may the necromancer come

To bring us marrow and souls and rum-♫

 

The maid hovers over him and raises her staff to finish him off. He looks at her, noting a young face. A green face. A face of someone who has never taken a life before.

 

“[Analyze]” he activates a skill.

 

Malaka

Level 48 [Maid Trader]

 

“Impossible.” he exclaims

 

The [Maid Trader] frowns. Her hand tightens around her staff and her mouth moves for the last time.

 

♫-One day, when the reaping is done

We'll take our leave and go-♬

 

*CRACK*