Templar's Creed

Chapter 44

Suddenly, a second mortar shot screamed through the night air, tearing through the smoke and flames. It struck the already weakened Jackdaw, and the ship's remains were obliterated in a shower of splinters and embers. The explosion sent a shockwave that knocked Edward to his knees, the force of it rattling his very bones. The skull's light flared in his hand, and he felt the Sage's spirit scream in anguish before it was snuffed out completely.

Woodes Rogers stepped closer, his eyes cold and unwavering. "Look at what your obstinance has wrought, Teach," he said, his voice carrying over the dwindling roar of battle. "You've doomed your men, your ship, and the very cause you claim to fight for."

The pirate captain's heart felt as if it had been ripped from his chest as he saw his crew cut down by the second mortar shot. The Sage's skull fell silent in his hand, the light dimming as the lives of his comrades were snuffed out. The Jackdaw's splintered remains were a testament to the Templar's ruthlessness, a tomb for the dreams of freedom they had all cherished.

As the dust and smoke settled, Rogers approached Edward, the skull now a lifeless weight in the pirate's hand. The general's gaze was cold, his eyes gleaming with victory. Without warning, he reached out and snatched the skull from Edward's grasp, inspecting it with a greedy hunger that made Edward's blood boil. The artifact's power was gone, the lifeblood of the Sage depleted.

Rogers's eyes narrowed with disappointment as he held the skull up to the flickering light of the fires. "It seems the power of the Sage has been... exhausted," he mused, his voice laced with mockery. "A pity. I had such high hopes for this relic."

Edward's rage burned like the fires that consumed his ship. He lunged at the Templar general, his cutlass a blur of steel and anger. Rogers parried the blow with ease, his own blade flashing in the dim light. "You're a fool, Teach," he said, his smile cold and calculating. "This was never about the skull alone. It was about the chaos you pirates bring to the world. Chaos that must be controlled, if not eliminated."

The two men circled each other, their swords ringing out a deadly melody that sang of the battles they had both seen. Edward's eyes were filled with a determination that had been born from loss and betrayal. He knew that he couldn't win this fight, not with his ship in ruins and his crew scattered or dead. But he had to keep fighting, for the memory of Kenway, for the Sage, and for the belief that freedom was worth dying for.

Woodes Rogers, on the other hand, fought with the confidence of a man who knew he had the upper hand. His movements were swift and precise, each strike calculated to wear Edward down. The pirate captain's cutlass was a blur as he tried to find an opening, but the Templar was like a wall of steel, unyielding and unbreakable.

But even the mightiest walls crumble under enough pressure, and Edward's rage was a relentless storm. He pushed forward, his blows fueled by the memory of Kenway's sacrifice and the Sage's trust. Yet, for every step he gained, Rogers took two, his blade a constant threat that Edward barely managed to parry.

It was the sudden sound of splintering wood that gave Edward the opening he needed. The Jackdaw, weakened by the explosion, groaned and listed to the side, her fiery embrace growing closer. Rogers's attention flickered for the briefest of moments, and Edward saw his chance. With a roar that seemed to shake the very earth, he swung his sword with all his might, aiming for the general's chest.

But Rogers was not so easily caught. He danced back, the blade slicing through the air where his heart had been a moment before. Edward felt a surge of desperation as he watched the Templar's retreating form. "Coward!" he shouted, his voice hoarse from the smoke and the screams of his dying crew. "You're no better than the tyranny you claim to fight!"

The general didn't bother to respond, his eyes focused on the prize. With a swift motion, he leaped onto the railing of the nearest ship, his boots landing on the rope that connected it to the mainmast. He began to swing away from the chaos, his eyes never leaving Edward's. The pirate captain's heart raced as he watched the man who had taken so much from him slip away, the skull clutched in his hand.

Edward's muscles burned, his lungs begged for air, but he ignored the pain and took off in pursuit. The gap between them grew smaller, and for a moment, it seemed as if the pirate's rage could overtake the Templar's retreat. But the flaming wreckage of the Jackdaw shifted with a deafening groan, sending a shower of embers and splinters into the air. Edward had to dodge the fiery rain, and in that split second, Rogers managed to reach the safety of his ship.

The pirate watched in disbelief as the Templar's vessel pulled away from the shoreline, the skull's fading light a taunt in the distance. His body screamed for rest, his mind a whirlwind of grief and anger, but he knew he couldn't give up now. He turned to the survivors, their faces etched with despair. "To the boats," he ordered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "We follow him. We get back what's ours."

They didn't question his command, their loyalty unshaken despite the destruction that surrounded them. They clambered into the remaining longboats, their movements swift and sure even in the face of defeat. Edward took one last look at the smoldering Jackdaw, the ship that had been his home and sanctuary. A strange glimmer caught his eye, a flicker of light from the wreckage that seemed out of place amidst the fire and ash.

With a heavy heart, he waded through the shallows, his boots sinking into the sand. The glimmer grew stronger as he approached, and Edward felt a flicker of hope. He knew he had to find out what it was, if there was any chance of salvaging something from the ruins. As he drew closer, the light grew brighter, pulsing with an otherworldly rhythm.

The sight before him was nothing short of a miracle. The Jackdaw, once a charred and shattered hulk, now stood proud and unblemished. The flames had vanished, the shattered timbers and torn sails restored to their former splendor. The ship looked as if it had never known battle, as if it had just been built in the finest shipyard of the age. The crew gasped in amazement, their disbelief reflected in the shimmering surface of the water.