The Lost Royal

Chapter 3.

The wind had picked up, filling the sails of the Tempest's Fortune as it carved a path through the waves. The morning sun hung low, casting a pale golden light over the sea. The crew was busy at work, eyes on the horizon as G steered the ship northward, following a trade route that promised fresh loot. But his attention was drawn to a dark smudge on the edge of the horizon, a shape too large and distinct to be a stray cloud.

Spencer stood beside him, arms folded, his gaze keen. "Ship approaching," he said quietly, his tone carrying the calm of a seasoned warrior. "Seems to be headed straight for us."

G nodded, feeling a prickle of excitement under his skin. A rival ship meant trouble—or treasure. "Ready the crew," he said, his voice steady but commanding. Spencer's calm presence was invaluable in these moments, a reassuring force that kept the rest of the crew grounded.

Spencer nodded, moving swiftly to relay orders, his voice carrying across the deck. "Prepare for engagement! Man the cannons, ready your weapons. This might be a bumpy ride."

Ice appeared at the main deck, his rifle slung over his shoulder, a cigarette between his lips. He smirked as he scanned the horizon, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. "About time we had some action," he said, his voice laced with excitement. "I was starting to think we were on a pleasure cruise."

Blu, standing nearby with a knife tucked into her belt, rolled her eyes. "Don't get too eager, Ice. You'll scare them off with that face of yours."

Ice shot her a mischievous grin. "You know you love it, Blu."

Rin tightened the scabbard at her waist, her expression steely and focused. "Let's hope they're worth the trouble." She glanced at Ice, an unspoken challenge in her gaze. "Try not to make a fool of yourself, will you?"

Ice chuckled, his confidence unwavering. "You worry about yourself, sweetheart. I'll be just fine."

As they closed in, the rival ship became clearer—a sleek, black vessel with crimson sails and an ominous flag fluttering at its mast. It was a ship that meant business, and as it cut through the waves, G caught sight of a line of cannons poking out from its hull.

"Looks like they're ready for a fight," G murmured, tightening his grip on the helm. His senses sharpened, picking up the scent of gunpowder and sweat from the approaching ship. The unmistakable tang of blood lingered faintly in the air—a promise of the violence to come.

The crew fell into position, each moving with a precision honed by years of working together. Ace was already stationed by the cannon, his hands deftly adjusting the aim, while Spencer and Blu moved to cover the starboard side, weapons at the ready. Ice and Rin took their positions at the bow, their gazes locked on the approaching ship, their banter replaced by a deadly focus.

As the ships drew closer, a shout went up from the rival vessel, a rough, mocking voice that carried across the water. "Ahoy, Tempest's Fortune! We've been looking for a prize, and you lot look ripe for the taking!"

Ice snorted, drawing his rifle. "Is that so? Well, let's give them a proper greeting." He aimed, his finger brushing the trigger as he scoped out the rival crew. His eyes were sharp, assessing, and he picked his target with deadly precision.

Before G could issue the command, Ice fired. The sound cracked through the air, and a rival crewman toppled backward, clutching his chest as he fell. It was a clean shot, and the rival crew erupted into a flurry of shouts and curses.

"Nice shot, Ice," G called, his voice calm but laced with approval. "Let's keep them on their toes."

The rival ship responded with a volley of cannon fire. The first shot missed, splashing harmlessly into the water, but the second struck the side of the Tempest's Fortune, sending a shudder through the hull. The crew held steady, moving with practiced coordination as they prepared to return fire.