Chapter 4: The Turning of Fate

Chapter 4: The Turning of Fate

"Enemy attack!"

Vranes collapsed toward the ground, leaning on a White Lion guardian. Two White Lion guardians immediately raised their axes and charged at Vranes.

A harpoon tore through the air and pierced directly through the neck of one of the White Lion guardians.

Drakus stared, dumbfounded, at the White Lion guardian with blood spraying from his neck, then looked at the harpoon crossbow in his own hands, questioning his reality.

"Is it really that absurd? It actually hit?"

Druchii soldiers began to surround them, shouting, "Druchii! Spear and shield!"

Black Ark Corsairs held repeating handbows in one hand and blocked their fronts with sea dragon cloaks, launching a charge.

After firing their harpoon crossbows, the four Beastmasters hid behind the charging Dreadspears and Bleakswords to reload and follow up.

Black Ark Repeater Crossbowmen also advanced within the formation, holding shields and raising their crossbows to provide suppressive fire.

Alisha channeled the Wind of Ghur, summoning a scorching amber spear that pierced the body of a White Lion guardian. The guardian looked down at the gaping hole in his chest and fell with a look of disbelief.

The Black Ark Corsairs' repeating handbows mowed down a large swath. The remaining Asur, wielding great axes, attempted a desperate charge, and the archers tried to fight back.

Unfortunately, the sixth volley of arrows struck, and there were no Asur left standing on the field.

Some who were wounded and lying on the ground, not yet dead, struggled to draw daggers to stab their own hearts or slit their own throats, choosing to end their lives.

Those lacking social experience or the ability to end their own lives were miserable. These poor wretches were mercilessly tortured by the Druchii; the cruel laughter of the tormentors mixed with the screams of the victims, forming a symphony of pain and cruelty.

Drakus ignored them, hurried to Vranes, flipped him over, and tried to unfasten the buckles on his shoulders. Renn and Alisha also ran over to help.

Drakus roared, "Stop screwing around!" He said to the four Beastmasters, "You lot, go skin those White Lions." Then he said to the Black Ark Corsairs, "You lot, take off your cloaks and use spears to make a stretcher. The rest of you, clean up the battlefield."

Under Edmund's command, the soldiers began to move—severing heads, stripping armor, collecting weapons, and skinning hides. Several soldiers worked together to place the weakly breathing Vranes onto the stretcher, having already cleared the fragments from his chest and shoulders and sprinkled medicinal powder on the wounds.

Just then, the harsh, hoarse cawing of crows came from the woods. Drakus followed the sound and was startled. He saw a figure in the woods—an old, hunched crone, wearing a hood, dressed in rags, carrying a tattered bag, and leaning on a wooden staff. Although Drakus could not see her face, he was certain the crone had been staring at him the entire time.

The other soldiers also heard the sound and looked over; the scene went still for a moment.

Drakus, refusing to believe his eyes, shouted, "Hey! Old lady!"

The crone clearly froze for a moment, then vanished into thin air.

"What the hell? Did I hallucinate?"

"Khaine preserve us!"

"Could it be a Soul-Warden?"

"No way!"

Drakus exchanged glances with several Druchii nearby and asked suspiciously, "Did you all see that?"

"My lord, we saw it!"

Alisha said with certainty, "Yes, it was the 'Crone of Fate,' Morai-Heg, no doubt about it!"

Drakus shrugged indifferently and said, "Should I say 'Asuryan’s fire!' right now to express my shock?"

Renn and Alisha stopped their work and stared at Drakus, bewildered. Then Renn looked at Alisha and said, "Sister, has our fate been rewritten?" Alisha shook her head and said, "I don't know. My lord, thank you for coming today." Having said that, she prepared to kneel and perform a grand kowtow.

Drakus stopped her and muttered, "It's strange. I felt like I received some kind of omen today. Perhaps it really was the guidance of fate."

Centurion Edmund began to loudly order the soldiers again to continue their work.

The battlefield was basically cleaned up. A few soldiers wanted to skin their Asur cousins, as such things were high-demand goods for the Druchii.

Drakus said to Edmund, "Leave no traces. We should withdraw."

The group then returned the way they came, carrying Vranes and the spoils of war.

Upon reaching the sea cliff and seeing the soldiers still on guard, Drakus breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, there were no accidents.

The crew and the remaining soldiers began to board the ship, pulling the ropes to tow the barquentine out. The soldiers who had climbed down the cliff joined the ranks. The sailors on board were adjusting the sails; after all, this Druchii raider was just a plain, unremarkable standard-issue ship from the Har Ganeth shipyards, lacking any magical wonders or engines.

Drakus stood on the cliff, watching all this, and sighed, "What a bunch of old sea dogs."

In the cabin, Vranes lay on a bed, breathing weakly. Alisha sat at the head of the bed, cleaning his wounds again.

Renn said to Drakus, "My lord, thank you so much for today."

Drakus leaned against the headboard, arms crossed, looking at Vranes, and said indifferently, "Your sister already said that, didn't she? Take good care of your brother." With that, he walked out.

Returning to his cabin, Drakus prepared to remove his plate armor. A crow flew gracefully to the porthole, tilting its head to examine him.

Drakus stopped his movements and looked at the crow.

"You do not belong here," an aged female voice echoed in Drakus's mind.

Drakus felt no surprise; after all, the absurd event of transmigrating had already happened. Besides, this hellish place was crawling with powerful beings; nothing was too absurd to encounter.

Drakus thought in his mind, "Asuryan’s fire! What of it? You think you can fish me back? If so, I’d really thank you."

"Fate has shifted. There is a glimmer of opportunity within you!"

Drakus looked at the crow with disdain and thought, "What are you talking about? Can I end the coming of the End Times? What’s your relationship with Lileath?"

"We are not close. I cannot discern the future through you; your fate is unpredictable."

"My dear old granny, give me something practical."

"I have already blessed you."

Drakus recalled some legends. It was said that Elven archers worshipped Morai-Heg, believing that crows would guide their arrows to strike the enemy. He thought back to the harpoon earlier—a casual long-distance shot that actually hit a moving object, and in the neck at that. Was this Mount & Blade?

"Oh, my respected old granny, then what is the price?"

The crow ignored him, glanced at him, and flew away. Drakus shouted a few more times in his mind: "Hey, granny? Dear granny? Old lady? Fine, goodbye!"

"Honestly, no manners at all."

(End of chapter)