Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 154: Raising the soul of man

Two weeks had passed, and the pirate ship sliced through the waves like a beast returning to its lair. The once pristine white sails were now stained with salt and streaks of battle, while atop the mast, the banner of a raging wave fluttered proudly, rippling in the wind. Its deep blue crest against a black background seemed to roar with the same fury that had filled Blake's men during their raids. 

It had been years since Blake felt this alive, a feeling he hadn't tasted since that fateful day at Rock Bottom, sailing beside his father. The sea roared beneath them then, a relentless force of nature, much like the battle that had taken place. The clash was nothing short of catastrophic—a defeat that lived on in infamy—but no one could deny the magnitude of it. For Blake, the memory was vivid, a dark cloud that shaped the man he had become.

He had been a boy of only fifteen summers, yet he fought as if he'd been bred for it, cleaving through men like a veteran of a hundred battles. All the free lords united under one banner and one might, known as the Free Fleet, they surged toward the Imperials with brutal force. The ships smashed into the enemy with the power of a raging axe striking down a tree. Splintered wood, torn sails, and drowning men littered the sea. His father, the infamous commander of the Roaring Axe, led the charge, while Blake and his brothers each commanded a ship of their own. It was a glorious assault—Blake himself had taken down three ships that day, ramming their hulls and sending them to the depths. He remembered the twelve men he had personally cut down, their screams echoing in his mind even now.

But glory quickly turned to horror.

The Empire of Rolmia, ever cunning, had set a trap. Unknown to Blake's father and the fleet, the Imperials had hidden their true strength behind the rocky cover of Hervia, a port of the Oizen principality , a small one just east of the battlefield. As the Free Fleet pressed forward, stretched too thin and too eager for blood, the trap was sprung. From the east, the Imperial fleet emerged in full force, their sleek warships cutting through the water with deadly precision.