The imperial fortress Eri’s expedition had purposefully sailed to and then subsequently rescued was officially designated by the Kaldreach Coalition as the Outer Logistical Fort.

  As the name implied, the logistical outpost was built upon an island which lay within the outer perimeters of the oceanic West. In a sense, it sat at the ‘mouth’ of the Slaver Isles — not yet within the hotly contested territories of Pirate Lords, but close enough that pirate ships would sometimes pass it by.

  It was one of the first islands captured by the Kaldreach Coalition a few years back, once they finally fought their way off the Northwestern coasts of Thalmyra. The island was of significant size and possessed a large and relatively defensible bay. Hence, a naval logistical outpost was constructed upon it — complete with a shipyard, fortress, and massive store of supplies — to act as an invasion jumping-off point for any of the coalition forces.

  Once the outpost served its purpose and most of the coalition’s ships entered the heart of the Slaver Isles, a small imperial presence was left on the island to both defend it and periodically send supplies to the other inner outposts as necessary.

  As the years went by, less and less information from the inner seas made its way to the outpost. Pirate attacks became increasingly frequent, and slowly, the imperial force protecting the island was whittled down. What few ships it had were destroyed. Soldiers died with no replacement in sight. Supplies dwindled.

  Despite the ordeals it faced, the outpost was not completely diminished — artillery shells were plentiful, and the fortress was built to last — but it was obvious that the imperial forces on the island were already stretched thin and abused far more than they were expected to.

  With no further orders from high command besides one that boiled down to ‘maintain position’ — given an entire year ago, no less — morale started to dip. The only reason people hadn’t begun deserting was that there was no place to desert to. They were surrounded by water with no other land in sight, and their last working ship was blown out of the water by pirates.

  Even if they had a working vessel, there was no guarantee they would make it back to the mainland without being raided by corsairs or consumed by some other horror of the West. What they really needed was a proper warship.

  It made Lieutenant Kain’s insistence on keeping the frigate easy to understand. The men on the island probably saw it as their last lifeline. Even if the warship was not used for desertion, its presence was necessary to defend the island.

  “We should get the frigate up and running in two weeks,” the dwarf chieftain, Kaz, reported. “Might not be pretty, but she’ll float, and she’ll fight. Ancestor’s willing, we might even have the guns upgraded in time to your design, Paragon.”

  “Getting the ship operational is top priority. The armament is secondary to our purposes,” the lieutenant, Kain, politely requested.

  “Wasn’t talking to you. Your concerns are ‘secondary’ to me, human,” Kaz replied evenly to the officer before nodding to Eri. “My kin and I answer only to the Paragon.”

  Lieutenant Kain dipped his head respectfully. “I mean no offence, master dwarf. Your aid is valuable beyond words. If you would allow it, the imperial outpost would like to officially extend its gratitude with a gift: several casks of high-grade rum, as thanks for your speedy and quality work.”

  Kaz looked interested, but he glanced at Eri first, seeking permission.

  The youth nodded. “If you wish to accept, I see no harm.”

  “Hm. My thanks, Paragon. And you as well, Lieutenant Kain. My kin would appreciate it.”

  Kain glanced at Eri curiously, his gaze carrying a tinge of awe, but said nothing.

  The three of them were standing on the drydock gantry, overlooking the busy shipyard below. The scent of salt and smoke hung thick as the morning sun rose. Heavy waves broke against piers of blackened steel and rune-marked timber, accompanying the symphony of hammer blows, steam whistles, and shouted commands between dwarves and imperial soldiers.

  The pirate frigate — once ill-named the Last Dawn, now being reborn as the Vigilant Dawn — loomed within the drydock. A wounded giant, her rear hull was badly torn and charred from the Biovore corvette’s raging supercannon and its subsequent ram. The runes along her flanks flickered weakly, most on the brink of overload as they compensated for those conduits already destroyed.

  Teams of Dwarven engineers scurried across scaffolds and gangways. Sparks burst in golden showers as they drove new rivets into enchanted plating, sealing rents and repairing the naval arcana holding the massive ship together. Massive winches creaked as chains hauled a new section of hull — a slab of rune-forged steel etched with glowing sigils, taken from the shipyard’s storage — firmly into place.

  “It is fast work,” Kain commented on the progress. “Our men would have taken months to even reach this point.”

  “Blasted frigate of this size? Yeah, I’m not surprised,” Kaz snorted. “You humans are clumsy with runes, and this ship’s full of them. Not to mention all the special customisations made to it. Whoever built this frigate was an artist of the competent and insane variety. I believe you when you say it’s a personal ship of Pirate Lord Drake; this vessel’s a troublesome lady, just like her master. I bet half-odds you lot would have ruined the enchantments and rendered the ship unsailable rather than fix it.”

  “We are lucky to have you then, master dwarf. I understand your shipyard was destroyed in a recent pirate raid. If you wish for a place to stay and work—”

  “Ha! Fat chance. No,” Kaz rejected immediately.

  “I assure you, the imperial military will pay quite handsomely for your service, even for just a temporary contract,” Kain tried once more. “The frigate will need capable engineers on board as well.”

  “I don’t give two shits about imperial gold. And neither does my kin, so don’t bother trying to poach them,” Kaz chuckled. “If we wanted work, we would have left these god-forsaken seas and head for the mainland already.”

  “Then, may I politely inquire about your future plans?” Kaz asked.

  “What else? Stick with the Paragon. See where he goes. Die with him, too, if we can. It is the least we owe him.”

  The dwarf soon left to oversee the work. Eri was left in the uncomfortable position of standing alone next to the stoic officer. The man’s expression was almost indiscernible, but Eri’s Observation Skill sensed his confusion and frustration.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “You have secured the loyalty of an entire dwarven clan,” Kain said finally. “That is no small feat. I have not heard of a human being granted the title of ‘Paragon’ before.”

  “I did them a favour,” Eri replied, choosing not to elaborate.

  “It must be quite some favour, then. The last dwarven Paragon, I believe, was Gjomfringdale of the Grey. He led a near-suicidal expedition into a demon-infested, ancient dwarven weapon forge and miraculously returned it to functionality. The war machines churned out by him supply the Empire to this day,” Kain hummed. “That was nearly eight centuries ago.”

  “I’ve heard of him,” Eri smiled. More than heard, he had fought him as well when he was the Fourth Demon King.

  The angry white-bearded bastard was damn near invincible in a fight with his runic power armour, and the artillery he brought against Erizen’s castle nearly tore down the entire Hellgate over the course of that crusade.

  Eri wondered if the dwarf was still alive. The Demon King remembered letting him flee, with Gjomfringdale’s subordinates desperately dragging his raging, broken body away after he failed to kill Erizen in single combat.

  “You are not what I expected,” Kain admitted. “When I saw a youth your age leading an expedition of this size, I had thought you an arrogant noble scion who insisted on the position of leadership. But the respect of the dwarves can only be earned. I apologise for my unflattering thoughts.”

  “I don’t take offence at what people think of me, especially if they are respectful enough not to voice them,” Eri exhaled. “But I sense whatever you are going to ask of me next is going to give me a headache.”

  Kain gave a half-smile. “I have a proposition for your expedition.”

  “Shouldn’t your commanding officer be the one who gives it, then?”

  “She is… indisposed,” Kain said, his expression pained.

  “Regardless, you should probably involve her in the discussion. She’ll want to hear what I have to propose, too,” Eri sighed. “Hard days are on the horizon, lieutenant. I hope you are ready.”

  “I survived the 24th Crusade, Young Master Elathion. I am, unfortunately, well acquainted with hard days.”

  ~~~

  As evening fell and dinner was served on the Biovore corvette, Eri laid out the next phase of his plan to the crew.

  There was much to discuss. His mind was still hazy from his recovery, and his body was in pain. However, time grew short, and the plan must proceed.

  He only wished he could receive less pushback from the crew when he explained it to them.

  “I’m sorry. I must have heard you wrong. Did you just say you want our expedition to go after one of the Pirate Lords?” Bori asked in disbelief.

  “That was always the plan. We came here to bolster our fleet with imperial forces and ships,” Eri tiredly pressed on. “I say we have accomplished that, so it’s on to the next step.”

  “Did we? Because I could have sworn their insane commander has vehemently expressed her desire to see us gone, rather than join us on our merry suicide mission,” Alvine deadpanned.

  “Besides, the imperial forces here don’t have any ships left,” Julie scowled. “All their boats are gone, and there’s barely a full company of soldiers in fighting condition. I don’t know where you are getting your optimism from.”

  “There’s the frigate. The ownership of it is still up for debate, but judging from your actions these past days, I’m guessing you want the imperial army to crew it and join us,” Joarris deduced.

  Eri nodded. “Don’t worry about them for now. I’ll convince Commander Amber to set sail with us when the time comes.”

  “Even if they do, our forces are not enough to take on a Pirate Lord,” Dulcina pointed out. “A corvette and a frigate alone cannot compare to a Pirate Lord’s fleet, which continues dozens, even hundreds, of warships.”

  “While that is true, Pirate Lords rarely travel with the entirety of their fleet at once. Often, they send out raiding parties away, like the ones we have seen attacking the Throngdravi Shipworks or the imperial outpost,” Eri assured them. “Besides, the Pirate Lord we are hunting is more of a solitary sort.”

  Eri laid out the map. “There are four major pirate fleets currently in the Slaver Isles, each led by one Pirate Lord. In comparison, only three of Kaldreach’s coalition fleets are left after the Noble faction was taken out.”

  Lord Augustus, Lord Baroque, Lord Oleander, and Lord Drake. Those were the four Pirate Lords who ruled the Slaver Isles.

  The youth pointed to various points on the map. “The largest pirate fleet — belonging to Lord Baroque of the shipyard-dreadnought, the Iron Cage — is currently engaging with the Kaldreach’s mercenaries and independent forces. Reports say that while the corsairs badly outnumber the independent forces, the mercenaries are still somehow holding the Pirate Lord at bay, with the Doomhowler Brigade leading as their temporary head.”

  “I remember them. Best mercenaries in Kaldreach. Fierce fighters, especially their leader,” Raharim added. “Fenrir of the Infernal Hand. Tough and mean old bastard.”

  Eri pointed to another point of the map, this time far deeper into the Slaver Isles. “Next is Pirate Lord Augustus. He’s the one who took out the fleet of the Noble Houses. Rumours say his flying dreadnought still hasn’t left the scene of the battle, even after months. The primary theory is that the ship was crippled during the conflict. It still floats in the sky, but it can’t move.”

  “One less thing to worry about,” Julie muttered. “I suppose even though our side lost, they still put up a good fight.”

  “The dreadnought might be moored, but Lord Augustus’s fleet is still free to move,” Dulcina warned. “That still poses a major threat.”

  “Dulcina’s right.” Eri pointed to another area deep in the Slaver Isles. “The third Pirate Lord, Oleander of the Despoiled Canticle, currently faces the Church. The exchange was initially dead even, but the Church is now taking horrendous losses ever since the Noble Houses lost and Lord Augustus’s corsairs joined the fight.”

  “And that leaves us with the last Pirate Lord, Drake of the Fying Hind, and the imperial forces sent to contain her,” Joarris concluded. “Although, looking at this map, the imperial navy is stretched horribly thin.”

  “Which is why I plan to gather them up before we rush to save the Church forces from annihilation,” Eri said. “But before we can do that, we need to take out Lord Drake with the forces we currently have.”

  The elusive Pirate Lord had been hunting down the scattered imperial troops for years, harassing supply lines and taking out lone targets. The Coalition had initially tried eliminating her early in the invasion, but whenever they sent out an execution fleet, they could never find her.

  “One frigate and a corvette against a pirate dreadnought,” Alvine grimaced. “Not great odds. And that’s assuming Lord Drake’s capital ship will be alone.”

  “Well, maybe we can have the twins modify the frigate into a Biovore vessel?” Julie suggested. “That should swing the odds in our favour. You all saw how well the corvette performed. I bet a Biovore frigate would be even more powerful.”

  “Not happening,” Deyara rejected. “The frigate’s more than three times the size of the corvette. It’s too big. Unless you have a thousand or so spare living bodies to donate, it’s not happening.”

  “What about just an elven cannon for the frigate, then?” Joarris asked. “One scaled up to fit its size, like you have done for the corvette. The firepower alone would suffice. We can make do without the added mobility or endurance.”

  “The corvette’s primary cannon only works because it is linked up to the ship’s living biology. In other words, it requires the body of a Biovore vessel to function and fire. We cannot simply craft a larger flesh-cannon and install it onto a regular frigate,” Peythra patiently explained. “Our magic does not work like that. The cannon is an organic extension of the Biovore ship, not a mechanical component.”

  “That’s creepy,” Bori grimaced. “In any case, that leaves us woefully underpowered to go up against a Lord Drake’s dreadnought. Assuming we can even find her. Remember, the entire coalition once tried hunting her down, and even they couldn’t do it. There aren’t even any records of what her ship looks like!”

  “I’ll handle both problems. We won’t be going after her understrength or blind,” Eri said. “I’ve made preparations.”

  Well, assuming he could get into contact with a certain dragon-demon-dog hunting around these oceans…

  Hopefully, Eri could think of a way to get his crew and the imperial forces not to shoot the demon noble Marchosias when the time comes for them to work together.