Guys, sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I was writing it and had to rewrite it several times because the chapter wasn't pleasing me, and it's hard to find time during the week.
So, sorry again for the delay in posting this one.
Enjoy your reading
Year 108 A.C.
POV: Denovan
The warriors poured into the narrow cave in droves. The smell of mold, gunpowder, and old blood permeated the air right at the entrance. As we advanced, the stone walls began to funnel, causing our first invasion attempt to fail before we had even gone thirty meters into the tunnel.
The bitter taste of arrogance still burned on my tongue. The first assault was a tactical disaster, and the blame was entirely mine; I underestimated the caves, I expected it to be like the wildlings and the crowns. As the tunnel entrance narrowed quickly, my warriors were forced to march, at most, in pairs. In that tight limestone corridor, our physical advantage was nullified, since we had no room to brandish our weapons or move properly. When the first man stepped on a pressure plate, bolts rained from the darkness. We were forced to retreat, dragging our wounded under the sound of the pirates' laughter, who used the crevices in the rock as impregnable trenches.
I decided I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. We established a siege at the mouth of the cave: if we couldn't go in, they wouldn't be able to come out either.
I sent some men to scout the territory for other entrances and, in the meantime, I didn't stay idle. I delayed the invasion indefinitely. We needed a breather not only to come up with a strategy, but also to let the magic work. The Mark of the Beast, carved into my warriors' skin, didn't just give them strength; it provided a monstrous adaptation to physical and mental exhaustion. Those days of waiting would cause the wounded bodies to heal denser, and their instincts would adapt even better to the temperature, the climate, and the hostile conditions of the island.
But I wouldn't wait with my arms crossed. I needed to explore the interior, find out if all that battle would be worth it, and check for new access points.
I used Fenrir to hunt at the edge of the woods... Well, not hunt in the literal sense. Perhaps the more correct word would be to track or search, but it made no difference. The island had few creatures I could take advantage of to warg into: iguanas, rats, some seabirds, crabs, and insects. Any of them could have been a choice, but most wouldn't make sense or didn't possess the repertoire of traits necessary to explore a dark cave.
Because of that, even reluctantly, when Fenrir cornered what I was looking for, I sent my consciousness. They were rats. As filthy and rustic as city pests. I felt a disgust for those stupid creatures. All the animals I had bonded with so far possessed noble or useful traits, allowing for the construction of a real bond. With rats, no. A weak animal could die from the shock of the bond, my soul is not something that small and simple creatures can contain calmly and without long preparation, and the rats would bring me no good. Because of that, I simply invaded. I totally suppressed the creature's minuscule will, turning it into a meat puppet under my absolute control. There was no risk of mental rebound; if the rat died, I would just cut the thread and nothing would happen to me.
I spent two whole days crawling through the deep darkness, protected on my flagship by Fenrir and my men. I used five different rats over the hours. Thanks to the countless runes that improved my focus and my mental capacity, I could control two to three rodents at the same time, leaving one of them on automatic mode while guiding the others.
I ran through narrow crevices, dodged heavy boots, and passed through poorly structured doors. One of the last passages, a sturdier gate, required me to hide and wait for the exact moment to cross. When it opened, I was met with a sight that left me breathless.
It wasn't just a corridor. It was a gigantic cave, with a vaulted ceiling so high that an adult dragon could fly inside. Down below, a veritable subterranean beach bathed by dark waters stretched out. And the most impressive part: ships. There were small galleons docked inside the rock. That would only be possible if there was a colossal entrance facing the sea.
How the hell did Jones not know about this? And how did I let something like this slip by?
I cut the connection that very instant. In the depths, the rats fell inert on the ground. I opened my eyes in the cabin, standing up with a jolt. The repulsion of having inhabited the bodies of those pests still tingled on my skin, but I had the information I needed.
Before any other action, I ordered the guards:
"Call that bastard Jones. That pirate who is tied up on one of our ships."
The warrior beside me nodded and left with quick steps. It didn't take long for him to return, bringing Jones with a moribund appearance. I approached the former pirate captain, staring at him coldly.
"Tell me something, you bastard... Did you know about the sea-facing entrance?"
The pirate looked at me, and cold sweat dripped from his dirty and pathetic face, his heart started beating frantically, his expression mirrored despair. Before he could answer, my hand clenched into a fist and fired a punch with all my strength, the punch hit his jaw.
The man's jaw shattered and dislocated at the same moment, his brain shut off and he fell stiff to the ground.
I looked at the body on the ground, and by the heart that still beat loudly, he wasn't dead yet.
I looked at the same warrior who brought him to me earlier. "Throw this trash into the sea," I said, already turning to go call the troops.
The first to receive my mental order was Orochi. The gigantic sea serpent, wandering around the island sinking any boat or ship that tried to escape, felt my call. With an explosion of speed that made the water boil, she dove toward the cliff face overlooking the open sea.
Her long and muscular body accelerated and glided even faster through the water, with a graceful and frantic elegance.
I gathered my men and divided our forces. Morn, who was already almost one hundred percent recovered, took a third of the warriors and Fenrir back to the main entrance in the forest.
During the two days I wandered, I found two other entrances, equally tight. The order was simple: they would threaten to enter the three cave entrances, make noise, bang their shields, and pretend they were going to invade the tunnels again. Then, at that moment, we would enter through the cave entrance facing the open sea.
We took three drakkars crammed with our best men and rounded the island rowing with unmatched ferocity. We were thirsty for this battle.
When we approached the enormous rocky crevice carved by the tides, I saw through Orochi's eyes what awaited us submerged. The maritime entrance was very well protected, replete with ballistae, and with several pirates armed with crossbows; barrels of oil were nearby; they were really ready to destroy an unknown ship.
From the outside, it was almost impossible to suspect there was an entrance there; it was covered in vines and moss, looking truly like a green wall. If I weren't so close, I wouldn't have seen the entrance.
I ordered the serpent to wait submerged. When the pirates noticed our boats approaching, sounded the horn, and started turning the heavy ballistae to sink us, I gave the order.
Orochi erupted from the dark waters like a monster out of a nightmare. Her colossal body tore through the platforms with a single tail strike, reducing the ballistae to splinters and throwing screaming men into the sea.
Orochi didn't stay still for long; in bursts of speed, she whipped the platforms with her whip-like tail and broke any barricade with her horn.
Her serpentine body, although heavy, allowed her to glide up the slopes with ease. Her enormous mouth swallowed one or two men, and those who didn't die swallowed or pierced by her teeth that looked more like swords, died crushed by her massive body.
In the midst of this chaos, Heimdall dove from the cave ceiling, tearing the faces of the pirates who tried to light barrels of fire. The path was clear.
On the other side, along with Fenrir, they threatened to enter the cave. Soon, despair would reach them from both sides of the pirates.
Unlike before, when I underestimated the pirates by entering their tight caves, now it was they who were truly fucked.
It was an open cave, relatively dark, but for my men that was no problem; only the tight spaces represented an obstacle.
An amused and eager smile appeared on my face.
Our three drakkars crossed the waves and scraped their hulls violently against the sand of the underground beach. We jumped into knee-deep water and advanced with axes and swords drawn.
The place was a veritable city carved into the rock. In my past life, I would imagine that dwarves and gnomes would build it, but saying that would be giving too much credit to these pirates. It was more of an underground village that stank of moss and garbage, but it was still much better structured than the port up above. There were solid wooden taverns, guard posts, and large buildings that served as cells.
The battle on the beach was brutal but not as exhausting as fighting in the corridors. Unlike there, here we had space, and the Marks' steel sang, but the pirates fought with the despair of cornered dogs.
Amidst the chaos of swords and blood, my eyes caught a problem that left me somewhat surprised.
Two of my warriors were cornered and bleeding. The reason was a colossal pirate, perhaps my size, with arms thick as tree trunks and wearing well-fitted armor. He wielded a monstrous warhammer, an anvil attached to an iron handle. He swung the weapon in a continuous and devastating arc, creating a kill zone that prevented any Mark from approaching.
If the man didn't possess armor, he probably would be dead already, or if one more warrior arrived to help it would finish off this warrior fallen on the ground; actually, a few more minutes and the giant would exhaust himself, fighting like that was unfeasible even for us, marked with runes, imagine for a common man.
The wind buzzed with every swing. One of my men tried to advance and had his oak shield shattered in a millisecond, being thrown backward with a broken arm.
I felt my blood boil. I ran toward them. The giant saw my approach and let out a roar, planting his feet in the sand and preparing a vertical strike that would crush me to the ground. I didn't stop. At the last second, when the hammer came down, I used the agility the runes provided me and slid across the sand, passing under the weapon's arc. The iron head sank into the ground with a crash. Before he could lift the weight again, I rose in a spin. My tomahawk struck hard against his metal helmet, sending it flying upward.
The whole battle was very sudden, he probably didn't have time to put the armor pieces on properly, and that's why it came off so easily; good for me, it was a beautiful opening. His cheek showed a severe bruise from where my axe had hit him.
I didn't wait for him to recover, my tomahawk delivered a precise strike, both of them, toward the giant's neck. There wasn't even time to scream or curse at me, his head was separated from his body and fell to the ground.
It didn't even serve as a warm-up.
What was supposed to be a defensive fight for the pirates turned into a massacre.
With me and Korr in the lead, the Marks began to advance more and more, invading taverns, houses, and slave quarters.
The taverns were the best built, with some luxury items on display.
But that wasn't exactly what we were looking for at that moment; we wanted our enemies.
We entered every room and space of those places, strictly obeying my orders; my men didn't intend to take anything of value.
Not that the wildlings feel an instinctive desire to grab a gold necklace.
They couldn't care less about that.
The pirates, seeing our frantic advance, started to retreat into the caves, which would only make their situation worse.
They would be even more cornered, more fucked; they would be trapped and killed, just as they had intended to do to my men.
They managed to retreat, abandoning the sand and trying to hide in the buildings and in the deeper tunnels, where Orochi couldn't reach.
Thus, without waiting for the pirates to position themselves or catch their breath, my men kept advancing.
As was customary for the Marks, at least in recent days: shield and blade, whatever the weapon might be.
We entered the caves, killing and capturing the pirates; they would be useful later.
This battle through the alleys took more time than the entire previous battle.
After almost four hours of fighting and searching through the caves, we swept everything.
The pirates were now either dead or tied up, waiting for their sentence.
Then we began to return to the cave's dome; we still wouldn't rest. During the invasion, my men reported seeing people in the cells, and I saw them too.
If they were truly slaves, we should free them.
But we have to be careful, we couldn't know if everyone among them was truly innocent. Perhaps there were traitors or other pirates among them.
We had to be careful, as there could be wolves among the sheep.
So we began to free them, gathering everyone in a place that looked like a plaza in front of the docks, perhaps used to unload goods.
The number of slaves in that place was very high, especially when compared to the number of pirates, it was absolute madness. Dozens and dozens of people tied up, waiting to be sold in Slaver's Bay.
By my count, almost ninety slaves who had been kidnapped, captured, and the other fifty were other rival pirates.
It seemed even the pirates had their factions.
Those who appeared to be the kidnapped ones, we freed and gave food and water and started asking where they were from, there were people from all sides of Westeros and Essos.
Most were having a trip through these waters, some for trade, others to visit relatives, others in search of opportunities, not that the reason they were there mattered, as long as it wasn't to kill and rape, I wouldn't mind.
While everyone recovered, we put the captured pirates in the same cells where they had kept the slaves, and then we began our second search operation.
Now, in search of profit, that was the true reason we were in these seas.
We gathered everything on the underground beach. Crates and more crates of stolen gold, armor, weapons, and spices. I wasn't frustrated at not finding any Valyrian steel sword, but to say I had no hope would be a lie, but if it were easy it wouldn't be so special.
This fortune alone would allow me to live like a king. That is, if I were in my old world, where I didn't need to support and arm more than fifty thousand people.
First, we put the things on the pirate galleons, which were now ours.
That is the rule they themselves follow: the losers lose everything and the victors take all.
We put all the supplies, weapons, gold, jewelry, everything we could into a single ship, it seemed risky, we could lose all our profit if things went wrong. But it was the most efficient way to take things to Scalebay.
Then I started to divide the men, some would rest and others would go on patrol. We were all exhausted; it had been a hard week for all of us.
While the majority rested or patrolled, I did a quick triage of the slaves. Some of the resources we took there belonged to them, but we would leave them at home; as payment, all of that was ours. We saved them, so the rest was ours; I also had mouths to feed in the North. I couldn't be a saint who returned everything to them, and I wasn't even sure if some of them weren't lying to me, wanting to profit by taking what wasn't theirs.
I made them a proposal: I wouldn't accept just anyone, but those who had fire in their eyes and a thirst for battle could pick up weapons and join us, I wouldn't put the runes on their bodies without them proving their loyalty, but you can never have too many warriors. A few stepped forward.
Those who possessed useful trades, such as carpenters, blacksmiths, glassmakers, and weavers, I invited to come with us to the North. I promised lands and freedom. The majority didn't have much hope anyway, many there were just following the course of life and had lost almost everything, it couldn't be recovered in a normal way.
Receiving an offer of a second chance, with food and shelter, was already better than trying their luck elsewhere and still running the risk of becoming a slave again.
The rest, who just wished to return home in peace, had to choose: Essos or Westeros. Since there was no slavery in Westeros, the vast majority opted to cross the Narrow Sea back. Where would I leave them?
Maybe in King's Landing, or maybe somewhere near the Vale, I had a desire to visit Runestone, maybe I could make some deal with them, it would be interesting to study their runes, or even some trade agreement, or see their Valyrian steel sword that has runes of the First Men... if I could study an item like that, maybe many of my doubts would be cleared up.
The others would stay in Braavos; it was the safest place, since capturing slaves was forbidden there, and it was on the way to the North.
The two places, even separated by the sea, with a little effort and goodwill, I could drop them off there.
Two galleons would return, with the people and the resources; we would leave the resources there, gather more men and return; we already have ships waiting for them.
Orochi would escort our two ships, and she had my full permission to cause chaos if anything showed up.
The rest of us would wait here and capture any other ship and pirate that entered this dome-shaped cave.
The ex-slaves would receive a gold coin to restart their lives, it cost my newly acquired coffers some forty coins. A trifling price to not leave them to their own luck in the world and clean up a little of the dirt of what I was about to do next.
It might seem cruel to the honorable lords of Westeros, but I had a people to raise. The surviving pirates would have no mercy. They would be our bargaining chip.
As soon as more of my men arrived here again, we would leave further east, toward Slaver's Bay.
My strategy would be to trade these bloodthirsty, cruel pirates for the innocent and capable ones they had there.
We would buy slave carpenters, glassmakers, blacksmiths, linguists and then free them in Scalebay, perhaps a good deed, one with ulterior motives, but still a good deed.
But before that I myself deserved a rest, I looked to the side, and beside me was Fenrir, my hand stroked his soft fur, and gave me a calming feeling, on my back, Orochi was coiled with faint breathing, and Heimdall was between my legs, completely knocked out, everyone got tired from today, for creatures as scary and mythical as them, it was almost interesting to see them sleeping innocently, looking like babies. But one thing I'm sure of, anything that approached would not go unnoticed.
"Sigh"
Looking at the starry sky, and at the sea that moved calmly, the sound of the waves, and of the forest leaves gradually I felt my eyes give way and my mind enter the world of dreams.