"Well, frontal assault?" Lucien asked as they stepped off the boat, eyes sweeping over the pirates scattered across the dock. A few near the pier were already watching them, suspicion turning into intent.
Idris gave a small nod, rifle steady in his arms.
Lucien glanced back just as Law started to move. He pushed him down into the boat again. "You stay here. There are about fifty of them. We take them out, grab the fruit, and leave before the Donquixote Pirates show up. You'll slow us down."
Law didn't argue. He sat.
The two men on the pier reached for their weapons at the same moment Lucien moved. Two strikes. Clean, efficient. They dropped before the sound could travel. Idris stepped over them without breaking stride.
The alarm came four seconds later.
Men poured out from between buildings, from behind cargo stacks, from a watchtower on the eastern edge. Most were still fumbling with their weapons. Lucien drew his sword and walked straight into them.
The first group came as a loose pack. Wrong formation for a narrow dock. He stepped forward instead of back, cutting down the front two in a single motion and passing through the gap before the rest reacted. A third swung a club from the right. Lucien slipped under it, caught the man's wrist, and redirected him into a crate hard enough to settle the matter. The crate didn't survive either.
Behind him, Idris worked at his own pace. One shot. Pause. One shot. No wasted movement.
Five broke off to flank Lucien from the left. He saw it early and shifted, slipping into an alley between two buildings. They followed. Tight space. Single file. Their numbers stopped mattering.
The first man through took an elbow to the jaw and dropped sideways, blocking the second. Lucien stepped over both and exited the other end without slowing.
The fight spilled into the town.
Narrow streets forced the pirates into smaller groups. They came in twos and threes, never coordinated long enough to matter. A large man lunged from a doorway mid-swing. Lucien sidestepped, let the blade pass, and drove an elbow into the back of his neck.
Two more rounded a corner ahead, hesitated when they saw him, and paid for it. He closed the distance before they committed. One raised his sword too wide. Lucien stepped inside, struck him once in the ribs, and folded him. The other threw a punch. Lucien slipped it and returned the favor with considerably more intent.
He didn't stop moving.
A shot rang out from the watchtower. Somewhere behind him, Idris shifted. A breath. Then silence from above.
Three came at Lucien from the far end of the street, more coordinated than the rest. One carried a spear. That almost made it interesting. Lucien closed the distance before it could be used properly, crashing into the wielder and driving him back. The other two moved in from either side.
A hit landed on his left arm. He turned with it, not against it, and answered with an elbow that dropped the attacker instantly. The third hesitated, took a step back, then another, and finally turned and ran.
Most of them broke after the first real hit.
Lucien rolled his shoulder once. It would bruise. Irrelevant.
Gunfire cracked again. The pressure ahead of him was thinning faster than he was cutting through it. Idris had taken elevation somewhere behind him and was systematically removing anyone trying to regroup. Two men attempting to circle back suddenly weren't part of the problem anymore.
Lucien kept walking.
He emerged into a wider stretch near the center of town and stopped. The street ahead was empty. Behind him, less so, but none of them were advancing anymore.
Idris appeared beside him moments later, rifle still raised. A shallow cut marked his forearm. He hadn't mentioned it. His breathing was steady.
"How many left?"
"Ten. Maybe twelve. They've pulled back."
"To the base?"
Idris didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
They moved again.
The road opened into a flat clearing before the largest structure on the island. Reinforced walls, heavy doors, and narrow windows set high. The Barrel Pirates had chosen the most defensible building they could find and decided it passed for a palace.
What remained of them formed a line out front. Rifles raised. A few swords drawn. At the center stood a man in a captain's coat that didn't quite belong to him.
Lucien and Idris approached at the same steady pace they'd kept since the dock, stopping just close enough to make it clear hesitation had nothing to do with it.
The rifles stayed trained. No one fired.
Some of them had already fought in the streets. Lucien could tell. They were the ones not quite holding his gaze.
"You must be Barrels," he said as he saw the large man at the center with an arrogant expression on his face.
Silence.
The man in the coat tightened his grip. Someone at the edge of the line shifted their footing.
Lucien tilted his head slightly and waited.
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1 Chapter For Every 50 Power Stones. Please Do Support.