The salty night air carried the scent of the sea as Captain Connor’s ship cut through the dark waters, its prow slicing through the gentle waves. The moon hung high, casting silver light upon the ocean's surface, illuminating the debris floating ahead.

  “What the hell is this?” Connor muttered under his breath, gripping the railing as he narrowed his eyes at the scattered wreckage clogging their path. The water was littered with broken planks, shattered barrels, and remnants of old ships, forcing their fleet to slow down significantly.

  His grip on the spyglass tightened as he raised it to his eye, scanning the incomplete port in the distance. Shadows moved atop the walls—too many to be a simple night watch. His stomach churned.

  “Captain! I think they were expecting us!” one of his knights shouted from behind, his voice laced with panic.

  Connor’s worst fears were confirmed when he spotted figures on the wooden platform near the port’s edge. A woman stood at the center, illuminated by the flickering torchlight. Even from this distance, her commanding presence was undeniable.

  Ravenna stood on the raised wooden stage, clad in a regal yet practical coat of deep black, its golden embroidery shimmering under the moonlight. Her sharp, piercing eyes locked onto the incoming ships like a hawk spotting prey.

  She turned slightly, catching Hughes’ gaze on the half-built wall. With a subtle movement, she raised her hand, gripping a small torch. A moment later, a flicker of light returned from the wall—his signal of readiness.

  Satisfied, Ravenna reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a delicate white jasmine flower. Faint magical runes glowed on its petals as she crushed it between her fingers. The moment the flower disintegrated, an invisible force amplified her voice, sending it rippling through the air like an ethereal command.

  “Insolent invaders! You dare set foot in my dukedom?” Her voice rang out, cutting through the wind and crashing waves. “You and your wretched viscount sponsor will learn the price of crossing Ravenna Solarius. I will personally see to it that you leave this place in chains—or not at all.”

  Her words carried a devilish charm, thick with authority and unwavering resolve. The very air around the port seemed to hum with an ominous energy, as if fate itself had tilted against the approaching fleet.

  The moment Ravenna’s voice reached the ships, an eerie silence fell over the deck. The so-called ‘pirate-knights’ stood frozen, their faces pale as if the life had been drained from them. It was not just the revelation that their arrival had been anticipated—it was the chilling certainty that she knew who they were.

  Captain Connor’s throat went dry. His mind raced through the implications. “If she knew of our arrival, then she must have already informed the imperial court. We’re finished.”

  His pulse hammered against his skull as he turned sharply, barking out an order.

  “Retreat! Turn the ships around! We’re heading back to open waters!”

  If they could escape into the ocean, they could wait out the storm, laying low for months until they received word of the viscount’s fate. Supplies wouldn’t be an issue—as long as they lightened their load. We’ll just dump the slaves in the sea if we have to.

  Just as he finished his command, a streak of silver pierced under the starry night sky.

  A javelin, glinting under the moonlight, shot toward them at a terrifying speed. It slammed into the main mast with a deafening crack, splintering the wood like paper. Shards flew in all directions as the crew ducked for cover.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Before Connor could process what had happened, another came. And another.

  Javelins rained down with unnatural precision, each strike severing a vital piece of the ship’s rigging. The sails tore apart, their tattered remains fluttering uselessly as the mast groaned under the relentless assault. The ropes snapped, sending crew members tumbling across the deck as the mast finally gave way.

  BAM!

  The wooden pillar collapsed, its massive frame smashing into the deck with a thunderous crash. Connor barely had time to roll out of the way, but not before a flying splinter grazed his cheek, leaving a thin, bleeding cut.

  Struggling to his feet, he looked around in horror. The other ships had suffered the same fate. Their sails were in ruins, their retreat severed before it could even begin.

  “T-They cut off our escape…” he muttered, eyes wide with disbelief.

  The crew around him remained motionless, their faces mirroring his shock. The precision. The speed. The sheer number of steel javelins. None of it made sense.

  “Ballistas shouldn’t be able to fire like that.” That was the only thought running through his head.

  On the Port Jola

  Ravenna’s smirk widened as she observed the destruction. sound curled from the ballista platforms, the mechanisms still humming from their rapid assault. The sails had been shredded in perfect sequence, leaving the enemy utterly stranded.

  She exhaled in satisfaction, then turned her attention to the floating text in her vision.

  [Reputation System Log]

  +9 Points: Captain Connor is stunned and dreading the counterattack’s continuation.

  +9 Points: Knight Jackson is stunned and dreading the counterattack’s continuation.

  +9 Points: Knight Nealson is stunned and dreading the counterattack’s continuation.

  “Hmm… So his name is Captain Connor?” she mused, tapping her chin.

  Raising another jasmine flower, she crushed it between her fingers, letting her voice echo across the battlefield once more.

  “So, Captain Connor,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “Will you surrender, or shall I continue?”

  Her words were accompanied by the ominous creaking of reloaded ballistas.

  On the Broken Ships

  Captain Connor stood frozen, his body stiff as though the very ocean breeze had turned to ice. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, his breath uneven. Sweat trickled down his temple as the full weight of the situation sank in.

  This was supposed to be a simple raid—a quick in-and-out mission, an effortless mission. But instead, they had sailed straight into the jaws of a perfectly laid trap.

  His stomach churned as Ravenna’s voice echoed once more across the shattered remains of his fleet. It wasn’t just that she knew they were coming—she knew exactly who he was.

  “How?”

  His mind raced through the possibilities. Had someone betrayed them? Had a spy infiltrated the viscount’s ranks?

  Then it hit him. She hadn’t sunk them.

  With those monstrous ballistas, Ravenna could have easily turned their ships into floating coffins, leaving no survivors to tell the tale. But instead, she had specifically aimed for their sails, leaving them stranded, vulnerable—but alive.

  “Why?”

  Connor’s eyes widened in realization, his heart pounding in his chest.

  “The slaves.”

  “Damn it!” he cursed under his breath.

  There was no other reason for this attack strategy. Ravenna was ruthless—known for swift, decisive action. If her only goal had been to eliminate them, she would have done so the moment they entered the port. But by sparing them, by rendering them unable to flee, she had made her objective painfully clear.

  There was someone valuable among the prisoners. Someone worth saving. If he could figure out who, he could turn this situation around.

  His expression hardened as he snapped out of his daze, spinning on his heel to face his men.

  “Get below deck! Now!” he barked, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. “Secure the slaves! Move!”

  His crew hesitated for only a second before scrambling into action, boots thudding against the wooden planks as they rushed toward the hatches.

  Connor’s mind raced as he struggled to piece everything together. If Ravenna was willing to let them live just to retrieve someone, then whoever it was held serious importance—enough to gamble an entire fleet’s escape.

  “Who could it be? A noble? A high-ranking official?”

  It didn’t matter. If Ravenna wanted them, then they were now his only leverage.

  Gritting his teeth, Connor straightened his back and cast one last glance toward the port. The princess stood there, still watching, still waiting, completely in control.

  But the game wasn’t over yet.

  If he played his cards right, he might just find a way out of this nightmare.