Ever since the successful raid on Bayam, the name of the Blood Pirates had spread across the continent through the newspapers.
And among those who made their living at sea, there was no need to even mention it: they had long since burned the pattern of that flag into their memory.
So when the great banner with its blood-stained skull actually appeared within sight, the pirates under Vice Admiral Ailment's command were thrown into panic.
Four or five sailing ships clustered protectively around an ironclad warship flying the black pirate flag.
There was no mistaking it: only the Blood Pirates commanded a fleet configured like that.
"Captain! We're under attack! It's the Blood Reverend!"
A pirate outside shouted in a panic, his cry mixed in with the roar of cannon fire.
"Never mind that for now, get the first mate and the others in here, I need help over here!"
Tracy shouted, anxious and furious. The attack outside was certainly troublesome, but for her, right now, dealing with the enemy in front of her was far more urgent.
"Bang! Bang!"
Across from her, Klein mimicked the sound of gunfire, and bullets of compressed air came at her from every direction, striking at her body from all sides.
"Crack!"
Walls of ice crystal instantly rose up around Tracy's body, and the air bullets burst against them in blooming white flowers.
"Who exactly are you?" she shouted furiously. "Where's Elaine?"
By now, Tracy had already realized that the person before her was an impostor disguised as Elaine, and that the Blood Pirates' attack had been drawn here by him as well.
"Heh heh..."
Klein hopped back a step, dodging an ice crystal spike that punched straight through the floor.
He'd meant to say something about Elaine to rattle her nerves further, but he heard the sound of footsteps thundering down the corridor outside: a large group of pirates rushing to reinforce her.
His objective had already been achieved. Better to leave quickly.
He spun around at once, slammed through the window with a crash, and dropped onto the chaos of the deck below.
Before the pirates there could react, he grabbed the nearest unlucky one, sank his teeth in with Squirming Hunger, and, holding onto the man, leapt into the sea, swimming toward the distant Doe.
Cannonballs kept crashing into the water all around him, but with the Clown's natural instinct for danger, he dodged them with ease and dove deeper.
"Captain, are you all right?"
The first mate, second mate, and other senior officers of the Black Death came pouring into the captain's quarters, only to find Tracy's torn shirt revealing pale, delicate skin underneath.
Even in a moment like this, their eyes couldn't help but go wide and fixed, unable to look away.
Tracy had no time to spare for the way her men were staring. Her attention was fixed on the distance.
Blood Reverend Alexander Gascoigne's fleet was closing in fast, and that warship among them stood out in particular, gleaming brightly under the sunlight. As it belched out white steam, it fired off another heavy cannonball at them.
"BOOM!"
The Black Death took a direct hit.
The heavy shell first tore a great crater into the deck, then bounced, smashing two or three pirates in its path into bursts of blood mist and shredded flesh, before finally coming to rest.
"Why aren't we firing back?!" Tracy cursed furiously.
"Captain, those bastards are using military-grade cannons, they've got longer range and more firepower than us!" someone explained.
"Captain, what do we do now?" the officers pressed anxiously.
"Retreat!"
Tracy gritted her teeth. "Tell the other ships to split up and regroup at Shelter Point Two!"
Their side had been caught at a disadvantage by the surprise attack, and their firepower was completely outmatched.
And worst of all, the captain on the other side was a Sequence 4 demigod. There was simply no way to win this fight.
"What are you all waiting for, move! Do you want to end up as lambs for the Blood Reverend's slaughter?!"
She roared at them, and only then did her men snap out of their daze and scatter out of the captain's quarters to their posts.
Some went to signal the other ships, some rallied the sailors to raise sail, some organized cannon fire in return.
Soon, amid the rolling thunder of cannon fire, the whole fleet began to turn, pulling out of the island's sheltered waters and scattering in every direction.
Left alone in the captain's quarters, Tracy hesitated for a moment, then finally ran to the corner of the room, pulled open a drawer in the dressing cabinet, and drew something out from within.
It was a small round mirror, its metal frame badly rusted.
"Captain! They're splitting up and running!"
Up in the Doe's lookout tower, the observer shouted through his telescope.
Silas raised his eyes and saw the enemy fleet break apart on its own, each ship choosing a different direction to flee.
"Tell the other ships to split up and give chase," he said to Anderson. "You decide how to divide them up."
"Understood!"
Anderson answered, and was just about to leave when he asked, "Captain, which one are we going after?"
Silas hesitated, about to answer, when a startled cry rose up from the deck. A soaking wet figure had just climbed over the ship's rail and hauled himself aboard. He was dressed in nothing but a shirt and shorts, his hair plastered down in dripping strands.
"Don't attack, he's one of us," he called out, waving off the sailors who had rushed forward with weapons raised, then walked over to stand in front of Klein.
"Is Vice Admiral Ailment aboard the Black Death?"
Silas conjured a fireball to dry off Klein's soaked clothes as he asked.
"Cough, cough... cough cough... yes, he is."
The moment Klein opened his mouth, before he could even get the words out, a fit of coughing overtook him.
His face was flushed an unhealthy shade of red, as though he were running a low fever.
Before leaping off the Black Death, he'd still been maintaining Elaine's appearance and dress; to avoid a mortifying scene when boarding Silas's ship, he'd stripped off the long skirt in the water, keeping only the innermost layer of clothing.
"Darkwill!"
At the sight of him, Silas immediately called for his ship's doctor. Seeing his former colleague in such a state, it was obvious he'd been caught up in the virus that Vice Admiral Ailment had released.
Though he was now away from the source of the disease, the cold he'd already contracted wouldn't be so easy to cure. "Get someone else over here too, bring clothes and blankets!"
"Coming, coming!"
The plump apothecary, with a great owl perched on his shoulder, hurried over, weaving through the chaos of people and nearly getting knocked over by a sailor hauling cannonballs. Muttering curses the whole way, he finally made it to Klein's side.
"Well now, old fellow, you..."
Once he'd caught his breath, Darkwill looked Klein over carefully, then broke into a knowing, meaningful grin.
"You'd better shut your mouth."
Silas knew all too well just how loose-lipped this subordinate of his could be, and cut him off coldly before he could finish.
"Get him fixed up. One more word out of you and I'll load you into a cannon and fire you at the enemy ship."
"Yes, sir."
Darkwill fell obediently silent at once, grumbling under his breath before turning to bark at his owl, Mr. Harry.
"Stupid bird, go fetch my medical kit already, don't you know how heavy you are, sitting on my shoulder like this..."
The owl gave him a wordless, golden-eyed glare, then spread its wings and flew off.
Silas and Klein nodded to each other, and then Silas turned to call Anderson over, telling him to rally the sailors and press the pursuit of the enemy flagship ahead.
"BOOM!"
"BOOM!"
The Black Death quickly swung its cannons around and opened fire on the pursuing Doe.
Silas stood at the bow, watching the incoming cannonball. He raised a hand and pointed, and an invisible rule instantly took hold: the cannonball's speed dropped at once, until finally it obediently dropped right into his open palm.
He gripped the cannonball, drew his arm back, and hurled it violently at the Black Death.
"Whoosh!"
The cannonball shot forward with sudden acceleration, letting out a piercing shriek.
The Fallen Earl. Magnify!
And so, amid a thunderous, world-shaking boom, the stern of the Black Death was struck dead on, great sheets of planking torn apart, and several unlucky sailors screamed as they were flung into the water.