My jaw dropped in a moment of shock as I saw the Perdition suddenly appear and open fire. The next moment it clicked shut as I braced myself and began to prioritize.

“I want Drese on the forecastle intervening as possible! Mirash, get the volatile stuff from Mouse’s stash! Arnnaith, battle plan now. Gnar, be ready!”

Some had already been leaping into action, while my words shocked others into motion. Gnar would typically be the first to receive orders, but he and the war band were already kitted out and prepared.

I had all the warriors on the Internment and all the artillerists on the Death’s Consort with Sadeo. There was a reason for that: the Internment had no artillery. I had one ship with teeth and another with range when what I really wanted a single ship with both.

As I’d spoken, I’d focused on my seamanship skills and the flow of the wind and waters. As soon as my orders were acknowledged, I began adjusting my constructs to eek everything I could out of the hulk.

The first broadside from the Perdition had been absolutely devastating. Explosive bolts had been aimed for the portholes of the Consort and crippling their ability to return fire. Different bolts I’d never seen had been aimed at the gunwale and caused bursts of thorny brambles to take root and grow at an incredible rate into an area effect around each bolt.

Jones had good artillerists in his crew. It was only a few seconds later another broadside was fired. The Death’s Consort was leaking durability points like a sieve.

“Arnnaith, ideas?” I had reactionary plans, but I knew to listen to those with a talent for strategy.

“Submerge the Consort immediately. Sail straight on. Aim to put the Internment directly between the Consort and Perdition. Let it act like a sponge for his attacks while you transfer command to the Consort.”

I didn’t question him deciding we needed to abandon the Internment. The ship was incredibly useful against most sea monsters because of its perk Containment which was highly effective against blunt damage – a common weapon for monsters.

Davy Jones wasn’t going to smack us with a baton, though. He was going to tear us apart with enchanted munitions.

I was fighting a losing battle, I had no choice but to consolidate on my better equipped, more maneuverable ship.

Fishguts, to think I was calling a carrack my ‘more maneuverable’ vessel.

The Consort began to sink at my command, and I discovered several things. The first was a design flaw on the Perdition: the portholes for the artillery were arranged to fire either laterally or upwards. That made sense, given the ship was almost always below what it would fire at. However, that left a substantially sized opening as it was and there wasn’t cause to let them aim down at all – Jones might as well just get rid of his hull entirely at that point!

The result was that as soon as my ship dipped below the horizon level, Jones’ artillerists couldn’t hit them.

Before we could rejoice, we were reminded that we were as new to this type of warfare as the modern navies, while Jones was the oldest hand at it on the seas.

Onagers opened fire, the catapult-like artillery on the main deck sending round balls in a high arc. Most of the balls peaked high above the Consort, but only a fool would think that they were misses. Once they were directly above the ship they flashed brightly and streaked straight down like a bolt of lightning.

Most ships could handle heavy weights hitting against them for a while. My cursed ships naturally more so. It didn’t matter. These rounds punched straight through the main deck.

They weren’t the only rounds fired, as I recognized some like the Enchanted Round of Mass that I still had stored somewhere on the Consort. I’d never gotten the chance to use it, but its effects were clear. The round would describe a normal arc like you’d expect a simple weight to, before the enchantment activated and it suddenly contained a much higher mass than when it fired, with all of its original velocity. They were tricky rounds to use because of the changes to their flight, but hit just as hard as a boulder would.

The last problem was that my method of submerging and avoiding fire was ultimately useless. Jones had probably invested millions of XP into adjusting his ship, the thing could rise to the surface like a cork and no doubt sink like a stone. It had no trouble adjusting depth to match the slower carrack. The only reason it wasn’t still firing its ballistae at the moment seemed to be because they were circling the Consort like a shark circling a crippled dolphin.

Scarcely a minute had passed, and there was little we could do in the face of such an onslaught. Sadeo had tried, I’d seen some return fire as our explosive bolts targeted typical weak points, but Jones’ investments had paid off again as the durability points and structural integrity of his ship were sound.

It was dawning on me that even sacrificing one of my ships and consolidating was less a viable strategy and more of a delaying tactic. Jones had gifted me my abilities; he had them better developed. I had one professional artillerist, he had a full firing team. I had a boarding team of professional warriors – who’d I’d been subconsvuiously counting on as my only true hope; but I’d seen the kind of professions Jones had offered me. My ‘marines’ might have an advantage over the professonals the navy could host, but they couldn’t compare to the powerful classes Jones could develop.

I’d broken free from my master’s direct control, but I was still helpless before him.

“You can attempt to ram him,” Arnnaith said, correctly interpreting my expression and clenched grip on the helm. “But he’s a hundred times more maneuverable than you and possibly twice your seamanship level.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to feint him, make him back off a bit.”

Arnnaith shook his head. “Any feint would leave you out of position to protect the Consort. He could duck around and fire on you both, as a matter of fact. Stay the course, Captain.”

He was right. I took a breath to steady myself. This was why I had advisors – because not everything could be a half-planned trick.

I chugged a mana potion and cast my gust spell to fill the sails and shave some time off our intercept. I was carefully reading the minutiae of the wind and waves now, aware that a mistake would be an opening for Davy Jones.

A massive form entered my Domain.

“Kraken!” I bellowed. “Kraken incoming! Below, below!”

Nearly everyone had piled onto the deck to watch and prepare, now everyone scrambled to squeeze through the hatches and go below.

I didn’t follow, not immediately. I could create a construct to man the helm and sail with my Domain, but the ship would only have the benefit of 10 levels of seamanship manning the helm. This hulk needed more than that to run interference.

Because I was still topside, I was able to identify the Kraken as its arms broke the surface around my ship.

Name

Kraken

Level

Health

,000

Mana

,450

Stamina

,000