The Way of the Clan 8

by Dem Mikhaylov

  “Fun…”

  “Oh yes!”

  “What else can you tell me?”

  “Specialists are completing the installation of a local teleport. Already, everything is ready on the nose. Soon we will have a teleport operating on the flagship and in the zone closest to it.”

  “Cool.”

  “It is! Ros, and do you know how we found the skeleton of the ancient ship? And how much we paid for this info? And how we dragged him around the whole continent at night?! And how then he was revived ...”

  “So is he alive?! The flagship?!”

  “Yeah. Very alive! And he eats a lot!”

  "How do you know all this?" I could not restrain myself.

  “I was with this project from the very beginning,” the half-orc smiled broadly, gently holding on to the rails of the main bridge. “He was like my own. I am with him forever. From the ocean floor, where he lay prostrate with a spear thrown into his back by the goddess Zabarulla. A spear ... right ... if you could call it that. If a silver spear can be three hundred meters long, with a leaf-shaped tip that shatters into a thousand pieces as the warhead! We pulled out so many of those fragments. Tired to dispel special sealing spell, fix him, and then, also, had to get rid of the divine curse. It cost money... But that is in the past. Point is… I know everything on this ship. Ask, if you need.”

  “Got it. And I understand your fanaticism,” I returned a smile. “I respect it.”

  "You’ve done right, that messing with Malice a bit," snorted Bloopy in response. "That show-off was being so conceited, having been entrusted with the incantations of the Ancients. Last time he was asked to carry a crate with alchemy to the ship's drugstore, he looked at us with astonishment ...”

  "Hmm, ... to be honest, I just wanted to lighten the situation a bit," I confessed frankly. "It is just that everyone was too tense. And clumsily serious.”

  "Were they, really?"

  “Yeah. You know, like young actors portraying the military. The faces too grim, the words long and smart. For what? Did you hear the phrase of one of the advisers? Loaded!”

  "What did he say?"

  "Mmm ... something like: “I think that the frigate Strelolist, who is on our port side, must make a small maneuver in order to approach us close enough to be able to airlift some special cargo ..." Nonsense! And was it impossible to shout: "Hey, Strelolist! Come closer to us! We will drop the boxes on the deck!”

  "Well, now they are doing it that way," sighed the half-orc, and I nodded, completely agreeing with his conclusion. As if in evidence, one of the players, an elf with a short buzz cut and pierced ears shouted:

  "Crafty Damn and Scarlet Fool! Fuck off our board! You are dancing on the heads of the Achilots!”

  "Yes," I sighed. "Now it is better. Vital and brief. The very essence of things.”

  “Oh!” Shouted one of the players suddenly, jumping up as if stung and tearing himself away from the huge telescope installed on the railing. “The sentinel phoenix! Collapsed into the sea!”

  “What?!”

  “How many of them?!”

  “Type of opponent?!”

  "General alarm! General alarm!”

  The ringing alarm sounded. The fighting armada of the Sleepless went towards the distant horizon at full speed, completely covered by thick black clouds. Here and there, snaking lightning struck the water, and the black points of winged scouts flashed through the air.

  Dozens of orders poured from the bridge. Two-thirds of the creatures in the sky rushed forward, moving in several waves. Many ships changed course together. Not by much. Deviation by a couple of degrees. But it was enough for the monstrous flagship to move forward even further, while the other ships fell away. The Black Queen had decided to put her head first in the horrible snake trap.

  “Summary received! And its bullshit…”

  One of the players stepped up and said:

  “They are not even hiding properly ... Guys ... These are not ships. Or rather - not just ships?”

  “And what are they, then?” The voice of the Baroness rang out, the huge Red Baron appearing next to her, and supporting the leader with a growl:

  “Well?!”

  “These are orcs!”

  “Orcs ?!”

  “Orcs! They are going directly towards us. In addition to the ships, there are also a number of harpies. And ... after them, Drughoan the Scorcher. And he drags behind him an incredible number of critters! And many priests! No time to talk - they are coming! The ritual already began! The shamans dance with might and main!”

  “Confirmed.”

  “Got it.”

  “Confirmed…”

  There were nods and abrupt phrases. And then a terrible picture - the whole upper hemisphere of the space above the bridge turned into powerful screens. Now we not only heard, but also saw.

  All engulfed in a gray haze. A multitude of harpies fluttering through the air — wings and screams. You could see rectangular sails sliding over the dark water, stained with careless red streaks. Hundreds of oars working together and the hoarse roar of bugles is heard.

  And then we see something else - we see such huge, flat wings, that they cannot be described in words. Above the water, the largest flying insects I had ever seen slowly approached the flagship. There was hissing purple lightning everywhere, a shaggy head like a cliff protruding from the clouds ... The clouds glimmered, and a vibrant howl filled with longing was heard... Lord. This butterfly was the size of a flattened skyscraper ... a giant among giants. Drughoan the Sorcerer ... there are so many terrible legends and fairy tales about him. He is so fearsome that one can consider such an enemy a legend ... a nasty, terrible, eternally hungry, huge legend...

  Our scouts died one after another, going out with flashes and screams. They were struck by lightning, by the arrows of orcs, the claws of harpies, by magic ... The Orcs truly did not ponder before shooting.

  What the hell, orcs? What do you need the Great Navy for?

  Did someone pay them? And how did they come and find our fleet so quickly?

  “Attention! They give signals! Look!”

  On one of the magic screens, there was a distinct picture showing of a mighty gray-skinned orc standing on the prow of one of the ships, putting an ax with a serrated blade to the back of the neck of a man who was pale as death, a man with a flag in his hands. The signalman was taken hostage. Though he waved his flags furious, he did it skillfully. I could read it...

  "Give us the vile girl and we will go away in peace. Glory to Guorra,” read one of the players, a gnome in a green hoodie and a red hood. “Again: give us a nasty little girl and go away in peace. Glory to Guorra!”

  Everyone turned and stared at me.

  Leaning back against the railing of the battle bridge, I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at the Black Baroness. And I looked at her with considerable confusion and a mild panic. The orcs, with their bunch of monsters, clearly did not have a special grudge against the Sleepless. No. They had come for the soul of Roska.

  The orcs had come for my daughter...

  With a piercing scream, our slain dragon fell into the water, and the picture disappeared — one of the screens went out. But I managed to see how the gray orc sliced the ax over the neck of the soundlessly screaming signalman, saw him as he dropped the fluttering flags...

  Chapter Eight.

  Straight ahead.

  I must say that the loud, brutal statement of the orcs was perceived quite differently than they hoped. Even the death of the signalman was in vain - no one paid any attention to the life of some unknown "local". Instead, the Sleepless were greatly offended...

  And what even worse, the head of the Sleepless, the Black Baroness was offended.

  Judging by the strained face of the Red Baron, and by the appearance of the head of the Sleepless herself, this was very much true. The face and posture of the black-haired girl spoke volumes without words – what was that? Some rotten orcs and a fat butterfly
are trying to threaten us? Negotiate with us?!

  “Bullshit!” The Baroness roared, clenching her fists. “We are not frightened by flying cockroaches! And so what? Worms and flies will become frightening, too? Prepare for battle! Full speed ahead! Transfer to the main battery platforms! And prepare the main caliber! They have five minutes!”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  “Got it!”

  I continued to stand in silence, looking anxiously at my daughter. Where the hell is she?!

  Fierce beasts are vying for my child's soul, a gigantic butterfly appears, and my daughter continues to fish for sea cucumbers! Oh childhood! Oh cloudless, carefree youth! This is why many adults seem to want to return there – to being a child. Because most of the problems are minimized, ignored, shifted to the elders. Childhood, that glorious time...

  I also wanted to return. Only not to childhood, but back to solid ground. The mainland we had left. I had much more confidence there, much more experience. I would have found somewhere to hide away with my family.

  “The eye?” Snapped the Baroness.

  “Being prepared! It is divine!” Someone answered her immediately. “Activate it right away?”

  “No! As soon as the eye wakes up, the Krabbers will immediately feel the divine energy of the fallen god. And we have not agreed with them yet. By the way! Baron! What about the Krabbers? What is the delay? Have those beasts decided anything yet?”

  “Ha!” The player growled angrily “They cannot even make a decision about the main question - if it is worthwhile joining someone at all. If they could fight, all without exception, and die with honor. And they cannot cook their special porridge with us, Baroness! I do not know what made you decide that they would be our allies - we mutilated their god, and then threw him into hell! Their hatred for us now is so hot that the ocean is boiling over their heads! They now listen to the Architects and the others only for one reason - they promise to wipe us out into powder! We murdered their god!”

  “What do you mean? And I had forgotten!” The Baroness quipped, and thought for a moment. “Let them be given the next offer - if the Krabbers join the Sleepless Clan in a hike towards the Lost Mainland, then, upon completion of this, we will give them the Eye of Digratsy! We will return it to them!”

  "Wow..." one of the advisers said." Such a powerful artifact ... and to just give it away..."

  "We will have to – we will snatch another eye from someone else! Do not worry! There are many gods!” The Baron rumbled. “Do you confirm, BB? This can work!”

  “Act.”

  The half-orc sprang into action, and we heard his roars from a great distance.

  We, meanwhile, were moving at full speed toward the enemy compound. The orcs, realizing that their flag waving somehow did not particularly impressed the Baroness, began to beat violently their drums. Rainfall collapsed from the sky, which was entirely permeated with purple and orange lightning. The roaring waves rose to five meters high, carrying dirty foam with them. But against the background of the giant stone flagship, this spectacle did not look very impressive.

  Therefore, I continued to look for my relatives.

  About two dozen powerful ships played the role of tugboats, dragging many rafts towards our stern. They were huge — the logs three meters thick, about twenty meters long, tied together in bundles. And they are connected by means of very thick chains. Two more chains stretched to the stern of the flagship – the ships were dragging the rafts towards themselves like puppies on a leash. The platforms were then turned into floating fortresses – armed with a huge amount of weapons and armor.

  Wide bridges of steel appeared between the platforms. The players began to move between them.

  Five minutes later, it was no longer a chaotic mess of rafts behind the flagship, but a real cannon field, bristling with magical and mechanical weaponry. In the circle in the center of the giant platform, another field unfolded: nets, mines, spheres filled with acid and fire, magical auras and other protective devices. An infernal mishmash of deadly devices that could stop and break any enemy.

  “The platform has not yet unfolded completely, but we are ready to give the first taste!” Reported one of the players.

  “Send them the coordinates of the target,” immediately responded the BB. “Get them! Concentrate fire on the sorcerer! Get his vulnerable points! He must fall at once! Collapse him like a stone!”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  As soon as the gun wielders received orders, the turmoil became even greater. Huge glass balls on stretchers, filled with multicolored fire, were carried in, followed by spears resembling giant darts. Besides them, I also saw stones, thorns, hedgehogs, and stone spiders, along with many other unusual items. All this "trash" was shoved to where it should be shoved, installed, and then a bugler standing on the top of a wooden tower blew a whistle. They were ready…

  “Volley!” Ordered the Baroness abruptly. “And then at random, on your readiness! With the same purpose!”

  The air behind us exploded.

  A seven-colored firewall flew upward, along a gentle trajectory, bent over us like a glowing crown of death. With a wild roar, whistling, chirping, squealing and laughter, an apocalypse swept across the sky. And it struck precisely into the body of the sage hidden by the storm clouds. The clouds were swept away. Ripped to shreds, evaporated. For a moment, I saw an incredibly huge butterfly in all its nightmarish beauty, and then it disappeared from sight in the bursts of fire and acid.

  The cry that was heard was so human that it was hard to believe that the butterfly emitted it. The gigantic insect sank down, struck with its paws and belly along the masts of the allied vessels, turning many of them over and drowning them, crushing and maiming others. The orcs flew into the water, shamans poured down from the wings, and the drummers fell. Miraculously surviving the terrible volley, the monster screamed and waved its smoking, torn wings.

  I cannot imagine how much damage was caused on the second him... But it was enough to break the wings of the beast. He finally fell down, onto the ships, driving them into the water as if a hammer drives in a nail with a single blow. The wings hammered in the water, and discharges of purple lightning lit the ocean for meters. Broken ships slowly sinking to the bottom could be seen. And you could see other living enemies floundering under the water...

  It lasted about a minute, our fire and the writhing of the enemy, when the Baroness commanded:

  “Stop shooting! Fighters forward - finish off the reptiles. Attention! Prepare for a change of course! Ready in five minutes to change course to the north!”

  The team was running. The flagship moved forward. Soon its nose plunged into a black cloud of smoke and soot - all that was left of the fleet of orcs. Debris danced on the subsiding waves, and the fish swam belly up. We could see the retreating war ships. On the deck stood harpooners and archers, mercilessly finishing off the survivors. The helmsmen on the other ships looked nervously back at us. Our remaining ships moved behind us, clearly trying to observe the minimum distance and not break the general order. And I must say that, with each hour, the players were getting better and better. And I also noticed that, on the front deck, there were flashes of teleportation. It seems that there was plenty of movement there. The Baroness headed there, as well…

  She had used an accelerating command, and the flagship of went sharply forwards. This time we were headed strictly to the north. And from the south - from the mainland remaining behind the stern - we were followed by about a hundred newly arrived large ships. They lagged hopelessly behind, but continued to follow stubbornly. The allied ships. Checking the map, I assumed that they came from the shore between the settlements of Gray Sail and Stout Kiel, in each of which, there were shipyards of the Ancients, where ships were built capable of withstanding such an exhausting campaign.

  We amassed ships with each league we passed. There was nothing for me to do, so I kept looking around. I should have been reading books, but I decided I would deal with it later
- when it got dark. Then, in the light of a lantern, I will do some self-education. In the meantime, the visibility around was beautiful, and I was going to really enjoy the seascape. Looking with curiosity, I discovered many things.

  New ships arose from literally out of nowhere.

  The most spectacular appearance took place in a moment when we passed a giant iceberg and it suddenly fell apart, revealing to us terrible ship with five masts, completely made of ice, a two-hundred-meter hull with predatory contours and a high-tailed stern. What a cover ... and for how long were they hiding in there?

  Other ships became part of the armada normally - one by one they appeared on the horizon, came closer, and took their places. Some came in small groups, and many of them looked shabby, sometimes with large holes in the hulls and several fallen masts. There were also traces of fires. About thirty combat ships, nearly identical, came to us through a cargo portal that opened two meters above the water’s surface - and for the first time in my life, I saw sailing ships appearing in the air, emerging from a shimmering magical veil, flying over the sea a few meters, and heavily setting themselves into the water. Some ships dragged platforms and barges behind them. And there were unfinished ships — battle ships which took to the hike long before they were complete. But, no matter - you did not have to build only in the shipyard. The protruding frames were overgrown with shelling, and dozens of carpenters were cheerfully knocking their hammers and axes. The construction was afoot! Rather, afloat...

  My head was spinning. And not just for me – many others looked shocked to the core. Especially at the sight of the Black Queen under black sails. Do newcomer players’ jaw fall off when they are aware of the fact that the giant rock sticking out of the was actually not an island, but a real ship. I concluded that they did not know anything about the black queen until the day itself. They were in awe — it is impossible to pretend. Maybe a couple of them were professional actors — but not so many, that was impossible.