On the Layered Roatioern Beach, Jo Isnd

  Dame Aisha stood tall atop the jagged, yered roations that jutted out like the spines of some a beast buried beh the desert sands. The cool night breeze carried the salty tang of the nearby sea, mingling with the dust stirred by restless knights. Below, the dark silhouette of four ships crept along the coast, their sails drooping as they slowed to dock.

  Aisha’s sharp eyes narrowed, the moonlight casting a silver sheen on her polished armor. She could see the faint figures moving about on the decks, preparing to make ndfall.

  “They’ll cross through the narrow ne any moment now,” she murmured, her voice low but filled with authority. She raised her sword high, the bde refleg a cold glint uhe moon. “Get ready!”

  Her and rippled through the ranks. The knights of Jo Isnd, armor bearing the scars of past battles, stood poised behind spring powered ballistas mounted precariously on the uohe pn was simple: wait until the enemy ships passed the point of urn—uo retreat quickly—and then strike, breaking their masts to trap them like rats in a cage.

  But as the tense minutes dragged on, somethi wrong.

  There was no sound—no distant ctter of armor, no rhythmic beat of marg feet, not even the fai whinny of horses. The invaders should’ve been advang toward the narrow pass below, yet the sileretched unnervingly, pressing down on the knights like an invisible weight.

  Aisha’s instincts screamed.

  Her body moved before her mind caught up, spinning sharply as she sensed movement behind her. Sparks flew as her bde cshed against another with a shriek of metal. The force of the blow jolted up her arms. She gritted her teeth, pushing back to gain distance.

  Standing there, his grin sharp and predatory, was Keith. His dark hair was tousled by the breeze, and his eyes gleamed with a feral amusement.

  “Oh my, looks like I was right,” he drawled, his voice casual despite the lethal tension in the air. He twirled his sword with practiced ease, stepping back to allow his men to swarm over the rocks like shadows e to life. “Men—attack!”

  Aisha didn’t hesitate.

  “Fire the ballistas!” she roared.

  The ballista crews sprang into a, their training kig ie the surprise attack. The spring traptions groaned as they released deadly javelins, each made of steel. The projectiles arched through the dark sky like falling stars, smming into the ships below with botling force.

  The enemy ships didn’t stand a ce. The first volley shredded sails, splintered masts, aangled wreckage in its wake. Sending terrified screams eg over the waves as chaos erupted aboard the doomed vessels.

  Keith’s smug expression faltered as he goward the shoreline, witnessing the destru of his fleet. His jaw ched, rage flickering behind his dark eyes.

  But there was no time to dwell on losses. He lu Aisha with a roar, his sword cutting through the air with deadly precision.

  Aisha parried, sparks flying once again as steel met steel. She grunted, pushing back against his strength, her boots skidding dangerously close to the cliff’s edge. Keith pressed the attack, his strikes relentless, f her to retreat step by step.

  All around them, the battle had erupted into brutal chaos.

  The sixty knights of Jo Isnd fought fiercely against the swarm of 120 so-called pirates—though these were no ordinary raiders. They moved with discipline, coordinatioraying their facade. Bdes cshed, shields splintered, and the ground grew slick with blood as both sides suffered heavy losses.

  Aisha caught sight of two of her knights falling—oabbed through the chest, another overwhelmed and dragged dowh a pile of enemies. Fury fred in her chest, white-hot and blinding.

  Dug beh Keith’s sweeping strike, she rolled away, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow that would’ve seumbling over the cliff. She came up he edge, panting, her sword still firm in her grip.

  Her voice rang out, cutting through the noise of battle like a whip crack.

  “USE THE RAPID-FIRE CROSSBOWS, DAMN IT!”

  The knights needed no further encement. Positioned behind makeshift barricades, squads of archers yahe covers off newly issued rapid-fire crossbows, the experimental ons designed for momely like this. They weren’t pretty, and they weren’t precise, but they didn’t o be.

  Bolts rained down in deadly waves, tearing through the enemy ranks with ruthless efficy. The pirates tried to shield themselves but it was no use against steel made arrows, the sheer volume of projectiles made it impossible to evade. Screams filled the night as men fell oer aheir bodies riddled with bolts.

  Keith snarled, realizing the tide was turning against him. With a furious cry, he charged Aisha once more, their bdes log in a brutal test of strength and will.

  “You think this will save you?” he spat, his face twisted with rage.

  Aisha’s eyes burned with defiance.

  “No,” she growled, pushing him back with all her might. “But it’ll kill you.”

  And with that, she drove her ko his gut, knog the wind from his lungs. As he staggered, she spun, her bde slig through the night—, precise. Keith’s sword cttered to the ground, his body following shortly after.

  But the battle was far from over.

  Aisha didn’t stop to catch her breath. She raised her sword high, rallying her remaining knights.

  “FOR Her Highness!” she screamed.

  Her knights, bloodied and bruised, responded with a thunderous roar of their own. Their morale reighey surged forward with renewed fury, bdes fshing and shields log as they crashed into the enemy like an unstoppable tide.

  Southern Port of Jo Isnd

  Ravenna stood atop the fortified stone wall overlooking the sea. A smug, satisfied grin curled her lips as she observed the chaos unfolding aboard the enemy ships. The sound of shouting, g steel, and the desperate cries of men filled the salty night air.

  She crossed her arms, her cloak billowing slightly in the o breeze, amused by how easily the enemy’s discipline crumbled. The knights and meraries aboard the ships were at each other’s throats, their fragile alliance shattered by fear, distrust, and her carefully pnted words.

  Ravenna’s eyes briefly flicked to the floating notification in front of her.

  [Reputation System Log]+15 Points: Knight Ja is panig and is terrified of you.+12 Points: Captain or’s authority is deteriorating, he is afraid of your words.+18 Points: Syndicate merary G is in open flict with the knights and curses you.

  She chuckled softly, pleased with how the points were stag up effortlessly. Maniputing them had been almost too easy—just a few well-pced words and veiled threats, and the enemy’s cohesion unraveled like a poorly woven tapestry.

  “Farmiation points has never been this eaining” she thought, her fingers zily tapping against the hilt of her dagger.

  After a few more minutes of enjoying the spectacle, Ravenna decided it was time to offer them o ce to surrender. She stepped forward, drawing a deep breath to project her voice across the water.

  But then—something caught her attention.

  A faint glimmer in the distance, beyond the trapped ships. Subtle at first, like the flickering refle of moonlight on waves… but it wasn’t the water.

  Her amusement vanished instantly, repced by a sharp, calg gaze. She snatched the spygss from the nearby lookout and brought it to her eye, adjusting the focus.

  Hughes, who’d been silently beside her, stiffened. His face paled as realization dawned. He grabbed his own spygss, and within seds, his voice rang out in arm.

  “Reinforts!” Hughes shouted, panic creeping into his usually posed tohey have reinforts approag from the Open Sea!”

  Read 12+ Advance Chapters by being a Patron: 53. spired art 7: Just Surrender