Chương 38: Damien

The winds whipped past his face as the open flux-sea churned beneath their vessel, rocking it to and fro.

"More Power to the sails! If I catch one mage slacking, it'll be ten lashes and the brig!" His coarse voice ordered. Beneath him exhausted men worked to pump the sails full of power. IF I HAVE TO ORDER THEM ONE MORE TIME- Lord Damien turned back to his lieutenants and their warplanning.

"We strike here, and only here. Amplewoods is irrelevant. Do we have any more info on that upstart wench?" he asked, eyes shooting up to interrogate whomever spoke first.

"An assessor got a read on her, she's weak, unascended, and stupid." he snarled, the scar on his face contorting. Dressed in full lieutenant's regalia, he held proper form when addressing Damien. Damien looked straight at him.

"Gideon." he said with a nod. Before them a fist manifested, flux lines glowing vibrantly with red energy.

"Damien, wait, no please." he scrambled backwards. The fist, bigger than he was, rocketed forward. It slammed the man off the back of the ship through a hole in the banister that was already the suspiciously right size.

"Don't underestimate the bitch, she has the core. My core." Damien scowled. MY CORE. A twisted cackle came from beneath a hooded man lounging on the railing.

"Should've burned him Damien, we could've used another burned."

"He was too weak, burning men have to be strong or they won't be much use." Damien explained, gesturing towards one of the sailors.

"Burn him." he ordered. Two soldiers came forth and grabbed him. The quartermaster hobbled up from below deck, arms overburdened with gauntlets, rings, and helmets. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. He strapped piece after piece onto the sobbing man. Damien stood just before him.

"Fear not, you'll serve us well as a burned. We need more men like you, really. Those willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. For the cause." Damien monologued to no one in particular. Red lines cracked under the man's skin, his eyes turned bloodshot and his breathing heavy.

"Take him to storage." he commanded with a wave of his hand. He turned to the bow once again, bellowing upwards "COLE, see anything?" his voice causing the crew to visibly flinch.

"Not a damn thing captain, get those shits working if you want to get there." he replied back casually, his cloak whipping in the winds. Damien turned down towards his crew. These useless bastards never do enough.

"WIND MAGES, Double power to the sails!" He shouted, trying to calm his building rage. That bitch will pay. The core IS MINE BY RIGHT. A look of resigned defeat spread through their ranks as they could do nothing but obey.

"Lieutant, go get the enforcer, I wanted to hear the sound of whips cracking on deck an hour ago." Damien whispered just loudly enough everyone could hear. I will instill order on these islands, in the name of the good king of Greymere. Not five minutes later a call rang from above "Lord, you better come up here." Cole shouted from the crow's nest. Damien clambered up the ropeways, below him the sound of sobbing wind mages and cracking whips sounded. Pleasant to his ears, for all he heard was the sound of order.

Enforced order. Even these ropes had to obey his fist, just as it should be. Chaos can and will be tamed.

"What is it? We shouldn't be able to see the islands yet, we just sped things up now." Damien asked, reaching the top. Under my rule we can truly conquer this land. Cole said nothing, he simply pointed to their northwest. If he wasn't such a good sniper I'd throw him out of this thing and off the boat. No decorum, no respect. He held back his fists from strangling the man before him. Damien squinted into the horizon. A distant island, barely visible, scraped at its edges. Soon law will reign.

One day the kings of Greymere will thank me for my service, Duke of the Frontierlands has a nice ring to it.