The Legacy of the Uncharted

~ Chapter 61 ~ The War of Three Kings

The ocean had turned red and black.

Blood and fire mingled with the waves, each swell rolling like a wound that refused to close. Smoke from burning ships veiled the horizon until sea and sky were one a single rotting bruise stretched beneath lightning's white scars.

The war had begun. And no one pirate, king, or God would leave it unchanged.

The Maelstrom Crown carved through the inferno like a blade. Her obsidian hull groaned beneath cannonfire yet refused to die, runes burning across her flanks like veins of molten steel.

Mordeclai stood at the bow, coat shredded by wind, his iron jaw catching every flash of stormlight. Behind him, his crew moved with practiced silence the rhythm of killers who had danced with chaos too long to fear it.

Selene Tidecaller approached, rain slicing down her face.
"The Crimson Gale is gone. So are the Wraith and Sable Fang," she shouted over the thunder. "If this keeps up—"

"It won't," Mordeclai cut in, voice steady, unshaken.

She hesitated, staring at the fractured masts. "Even this ship can't hold forever."

A thin smile ghosted across his lips.
"The Crown isn't my strongest ship, Selene. She's merely one of my masterpieces."

Her eyes widened. "Then—"

"She's watching," he murmured, gaze sliding toward the far horizon a place where the sea darkened, still and humming. "The real one. The Crown of the Abyss. No man alive has ever laid eyes on her."

Selene's breath caught. "You mean—"

"I mean focus," he snapped, the steel returning. "The Crown bleeds, but she does not fall."

Thunder answered like applause.

The Mariner's Whisper

Eli's sword met steel as fire rained from the sky. The deck blazed, yet the crew fought through the smoke.

"Port side!" Belle shouted, spinning the wheel as a cannonball shredded the rigging. "Keep her steady or we're swimming home!"

Lucy stood by the railing, lightning crawling along her arms. Her eyes glowed white-blue, the storm answering her heartbeat. She raised her hand and the heavens split open.

Bolts of pure light tore a warship in half. The blast turned the sea white for a heartbeat before it bled black again.

"Direct hit!" Jax roared, his metal arm sparking.

Their victory lasted seconds. From the fog ahead, ghost-shaped silhouettes glided closer six ships, silent and glimmering like phantoms.

Keoni's voice shook. "What in the hell is that?"

Lucy barely breathed: "They're not alive."

Eli froze as one passed beneath the lightning's flash its deck manned by shapes of water and shadow.
"Those aren't men," he said. "Those are his Specters."

The Leviathan's Grace

Admiral Seraphine stood amid ruin. Half her fleet burned; the rest drifted half-sunk and screaming. Her white coat was scorched, her eyes still sharp.

"Signal the Royal Vanguard!" she barked. "I want those abominations sunk!"

"Admiral, our mages—"

"Then die trying!"

A blast rocked the stern. She clutched the railing, blood in her mouth.
"Mordeclai's devils think they own the sea? Let him drown in it."

But the sea disagreed.