“You ungrateful bastard,” Viper snarled, pressing forward with a series of vicious strikes that forced me backward. “After everything I’ve done for you.”
I deflected his blade. “You’ve done nothing but use me, like you use everyone.”
“I made you my second!” His blade slipped past my guard, slicing a shallow burning line just under my collarbone. Blood immediately soaked my shirt, hot and wet against my skin. “I gave you a place when you had nowhere else to go!”
The pain sharpened my focus rather than dulling it. I fell into the rhythm my old instructor had beaten into me.Measure twice, strike once. Let your opponent’s emotion become their weakness.Viper’s attacks grew wilder with each exchange, his technique deteriorating as his rage built.
“You’re throwing it all away,” he spat, circling me like a predator. “All that we were trying to achieve. For what? A freckled boy with green eyes? I never took the Reaper for a lovesick fool.”
Something vicious flashed through me at the mention of Kaspar. “You don’t speak of him.Ever.”
Viper saw the reaction and smiled, cruel and knowing. “The mighty Reaper, brought low by a pretty face and a warm—”
I lunged forward with a flurry of strikes that drove him back toward the railing. Sweat stung my eyes as I calculated each move, conserving energy while Viper’s face purpled with exertion. His breath came in ragged gasps, each swing more desperate than the last, while I maintained the steady breathing rhythm that had kept me alive through countless battles.
But Viper wasn’t finished with his tricks. As I pressed my advantage, he suddenly dropped low and kicked out—directly at my prosthetic. The impact sent a shock of pain through my hip socket as the mechanical limb twisted unnaturally. I staggered, momentarily off-balance, and Viper pounced.
“Always knew that leg would be your downfall,” he crowed, bearing down on me with his full weight.
I barely caught his blade on mine, the hilts locked together as he leaned in, his foul breath hot on my face. “You were never worthy of being captain,” he hissed. “You don’t have the stomach for what it takes.”
With a grunt of effort, I shoved him back. “You’re right,” I said, finding my footing again. “I’m nothing like you. And thank the goddesses for that.”
I feinted left, then struck—not at Viper, but at the ridiculous oversized tricorn perched on his head. The hat flew off, tumbling across the deck like a wounded bird. Viper’s eyes followed it with naked panic, as though I’d struck not fabric and feathers but his very identity.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the watching crew. Some even laughed.
I laughed too—a genuine laugh that seemed to cut him deeper than my blade. “All this time, I thought you worethat monstrosity to intimidate us. Now I see you needed it to intimidate yourself.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Viper snarled, his face contorted with humiliation. “Slowly. And then I’ll make your boy scream for days.”
“No,” I said simply. “You won’t.”
With a roar that was more animal than human, Viper lunged forward, abandoning all technique for brute force. His sword extended too far, his balance compromised by rage. He stumbled—just for a heartbeat—but in swordplay, a heartbeat was an eternity.
I didn’t hesitate. My blade swept in a perfect arc, slicing cleanly through his exposed neck. There was a moment—just one—where his eyes met mine, filled with disbelief. Then the light in them dimmed as blood gushed from the wound.
As he dropped to his knees, I leaned close to his ear and whispered, “This isn’t for me. This is for every soul you’ve sacrificed to feed your ego.”
He collapsed forward, his body twitching as the last of his life drained onto the deck. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged his corpse to the railing, leaving a crimson trail across the weathered planks. The crew parted silently, watching as I heaved the body overboard.
We all listened for the distant thump that we would never be able to hear.
“Let the sand serpents feast on what’s left of him,” I announced, turning to face the assembled crew. “A fitting end for a snake.”
Tension drained from my shoulders—a weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying since the day I joined this crew. For one breath, I allowed myself to feel the satisfaction of justice served.
A moment of stunned silence hung in the air, then Patty thrust her bloodied short sword skyward and let out a victorious whoop. The cheer spread like wildfire across the deck, aeronauts raising fists and weapons, their jubilant cries filling the air. Blood spattered their clothes—some their own, some their former crewmates’. Several bodies lay crumpled on the deck, tragic casualties of our brief but brutal civil war.
“Captain Reaper!” Willy shouted, his young face streaked with blood and grime. “Captain Reaper!”
The crew took up the chant, their voices unifying into a thunderous rhythm that seemed to make the very ship vibrate beneath our feet. “CAPTAIN REAPER! CAPTAIN REAPER!”
For a fleeting moment, I thought of the young officer I’d once been, who believed in honor and fair fights. In following the code to the letter. He might be disgusted to be standing here, captain of a pirate ship. But that man died long ago, and the Reaper who replaced him knew only one truth: Viper had to die so Kaspar could live. I regretted nothing.
There was no time to savor victory. I sprinted toward the ladder, shouting for Ariella and Willy to follow.
We reached the engine room in record time.
