Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 391

Chapter 391: A gift from your friends across the sea(2) Chapter 391: A gift from your friends across the sea(2) That was it-the moment of truth.

Weeks of preparation and relentless effort had all led to this.

The plan was in motion, and there was no turning back.

The ropes had been cut, allowing Darron to lead his own part of the operation.

The ship, now laden with oil-soaked hay, surged forward, gaining speed as they glided toward their target-the anchored enemy vessels resting unsuspectingly under the cover of night.

The pitch-black darkness had been their ally.

The patrol ships circling the islands had missed them entirely, as there were no source of light in the ship .  Sure Blake’s decision to forgo torches and rely on ropes to maintain formation had been risky, but it had paid off.

Darron stood at the helm, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the distance close.

The enemy ships, their masts swaying gently against the horizon, were growing larger with every moment.

This was it-the point of no return.

He glanced back at his crew.

They moved like shadows, working with a silent urgency to ensure everything was in place.

The barrels of fish oil had been emptied, their contents saturating the hay piled high on deck.

The smaller escape boats bobbed beside the ship inching a few meters above the water , waiting for the moment when they would be their lifeline.

Darron scanned the horizon, his eyes straining against the oppressive darkness.

The other ships were out there-he knew that much-but be coud not see them .  For now, it was only him.

His ship cut through the waves, the sound of water slapping against the hull the only evidence of its progress.

The faint glow of the enemy campfire grew steadily larger, flickering like a distant star.

The enemy ships were closer now, their shadows just beginning to take form in the faint ambient light spilling from the coast.

The enemy ships loomed larger now, their dark silhouettes becoming clearer against the faint light of the anchored campfires on the shore.

The tension aboard Darron’s ship was suffocating, every creak of the hull and slap of the waves amplified in the silence.

One of the crewmen,with nervous eyes, crept closer to Darron, his boots making the faintest scuffing sound on the deck.

He said nothing, his gaze fixed on the approaching shadows ahead.

His lips twitched as if he wanted to speak, but he held his tongue, standing just close enough for Darron to feel his presence like a nagging weight on his shoulders.

The silence dragged on, broken only by the soft rustle of the wind against the sails.

Finally, the crewman could take it no longer.

“We’re on route to collision captain,” he blurted, his voice barely above a whisper but shaking with tension.”We sh-” Darron didn’t look at him.

His jaw tightened, and his hand gripped the rail with bruising force.

“Shut up,” he hissed interrupting him , his tone sharp enough to cut through the man’s nerves.

“We have one shot to get this right.And I will not look the Admiral in the face and report that as cowards we left the ship too soon” The crewman flinched but didn’t step back, his gaze darting nervously between Darron and the looming ships.

“It’s night,” Darron continued, deciding to explain himself., his voice low and steady, though the weight of the moment made it tremble slightly.

“We do no know if we’re on course unless we’re close.

That’s the risk.” The crewman hesitated, his breath shallow.

“If you’re empty-handed…” Darron paused, finally turning to meet the man’s gaze.

His eyes, lit by the faint glow of the enemy’s fires, were unyielding.

“Prepare the torch.Do something to calm your nerves.” The crewman nodded stiffly, retreating toward one of the barrels of oil near the center of the deck.

The faint splash of liquid could be heard as he dipped a stick wrapped tightly in cloth into the viscous substance.

He worked quickly, his hands trembling slightly as he withdrew the soaked torch and wrung out the excess oil onto the deck.

Nearby, another crewman knelt on the far side of the ship, well away from the stacked hay and oil-soaked boards.

He held two stones in his hands, their surfaces jagged and rough.

With measured determination, he struck them together repeatedly, each impact producing a faint spark.

For long moments, only the soft scrape of the stones and the muted lapping of waves filled the air.

Finally, one strike yielded a small ember that danced to life on the edge of the cloth.

The crewman blew on it gently, coaxing it to grow.

Within seconds, the ember flared, the flames licking up the length of the torch, casting flickering light across the deck.

Darron watched silently, his eyes narrowing as the flame took hold.

Then he turned his gaze outward.

Across the horizon, small flames erupted like fireflies in the night.

One by one, the other ships ignited their torches, their flickering lights appearing almost in unison as if guided by some unseen hand.

The scattered flames reflected on the dark waters, casting eerie patterns that rippled and danced with the waves.

Darron exhaled slowly, his breath fogging in the chill air .

The moment was here.

He turned toward the crewman clutching the flaming torch.

His boots thudded heavily against the deck as he closed the distance.

Reaching out, he grasped the torch firmly.

For a brief moment, he stood there, the flickering light casting deep shadows across his face, as if weighing the gravity of what was to come.

Finally, he turned, his voice steady but low”Evacuate the ship.

In order.” The calm in his words was the eye of the storm.

Almost immediately, chaos erupted around him.

The crew sprang into action, shouting orders to one another as they scrambled to lower the ladders over the sides.

Wooden creaks mixed with the splash of water as the smaller vessels were quickly readied.

The men moved with purpose, but the tension in the air was palpable.

They all knew time was running out.

Darron watched the scene unfold, the torch in his hand casting a glow over his weathered face.

Above the chaos, he could hear the waves crashing harder against the bow, the rhythmic sound accelerating his heart.

The enemy ships were growing closer with every heartbeat, their silhouettes looming larger in the darkness.

He wasn’t going with them.

That much was clear in his mind.

A ship like this didn’t set itself alight, and the responsibility for doing so-and for ensuring the mission’s success-rested squarely on his shoulders.

As captain, it was his duty to be the last to leave, the one to throw the torch and see the task through.

The first lifeboat splashed into the water below, its crew scrambling aboard and calling for others to hurry.

Darron turned his gaze toward the horizon, where the faint outlines of the enemy fleet were now unmistakable.

The tension in his chest tightened like a coiled spring.

 The salty breeze whispered around him, as his mind turned to the gods of the sea.

Lord of the Depths, master of all tides, hear me.

Great Mariner, who steers the currents, grant me your favor.

Let these waters carry me safely, even as we trespass upon their fury.

The flame in his hand danced wildly, as he spared a look at the stormy sea’s wave Father of Storms, spare us from your wrath tonight.

Let the winds remain at peace, the waves gentle beneath our hulls.

Guard those who sail under my command, that they may see another dawn.

Men were descending faster as the enemy shims loomed closer and closer  Let no watchful eyes pierce this darkness, no stray sound betray our purpose.

Carry this vessel forward unseen, as only you can.

He tightened his grip on the torch, feeling its heat like a pulse in his palm, and opened his eyes.

Darron breathed deeply, the sea air filling his lungs, and silently offered one last plea: If this night is my last, so be it.

But let my soul rest with you, O Lord of the Abyss, among the endless tides.

By the time the prayer finished , the last of the crew had disappeared over the side, their frantic shouts and hurried footsteps fading into the darkness.

Now, Darron was alone.

The ship groaned beneath him, its momentum pulling it closer to the anchored enemy vessels.

That was it , it was about to collide and there was no time left.

Darron strode across the deck, the torch blazing fiercely in his hand.

The heat kissed his face as he reached the slick oil-soaked boards near the stacked hay.

His heart thundered in his ears.

The ship’s bow cut through the water, and the enemy’s forms grew dangerously close.

There would be no second chance.

With a sharp inhale, Darron threw the torch.

It arced through the air, landing amidst the oil and hay with a muffled thump.

The flames licked hungrily at the fuel, roaring to life as if they had been waiting for this moment.

In an instant, the deck ignited, golden light bursting into the night and illuminating the approaching enemy fleet.

Darron barely had time to react.

The ladder was out of reach now, and the flames surged too quickly, consuming the wooden planks in a fiery embrace.

Too fast With no other option, he ran to the ship’s side and threw himself into the sea,forsaking any safety that came with that.

The icy water hit him like a fist, stealing the breath from his lungs.

His body was engulfed in the numbing cold, every nerve screaming as he sank beneath the surface.

The sound of the flames crackling above mixed with the roar of the water in his ears as he prayed to his god, that this was not the day.