"Fuck, you're all monsters! You've practically wiped out those Walking Corpses!" Geliide called from the distance. "Hey, you lot, get over there and help Xia Lun. Get the fire going first!"
"Stick to the plan!" Xia Lun shouted. "Have the original combat team bring the torches. The reserve team rescues the wounded! Move faster—the monster's about to break through!"
"Got it!"
After that brief exchange, the newly arrived pirates quickly split into three orderly groups. Geliide led one to load the supplies they had prepared onto the lifeboats. The second, made up of off-duty fighters, reinforced Xia Lun's team. The old man led the third to carry away the wounded and clear out the remaining Walking Corpses.
The pirates' morale soared. Xia Lun had unraveled the monster's carefully laid scheme with only half their strength. Victory seemed close at hand.
As if it sensed defeat approaching, the monster slammed against the barricade with growing frenzy. Most of the reinforced planks had been smashed apart, and even the first door was on the verge of giving way.
Xia Lun wasted no more time. He sprang up, stepped over the bodies, and strode toward the cargo hatch.
Just as when they had offered sacrifices to the monster, the hatch was pitch-black. The distinctive sour stench of whale oil drifted up from below.
"Throw them down," Xia Lun said.
The newly arrived pirates had brought torches as planned. At his command, they hurled seven blazing torches into the dark hatch.
The hatch led straight down to the hold. Like an open wound in the ship, the vertical shaft connected every deck below.
The orange flames spun downward like fireflies flying into the distance, lighting the dark decks one by one.
The living quarters, the tool deck, the armory—and finally, with several muffled thuds, the torches reached the end of their journey: the hold.
Sparks danced where the torches landed, and their dim light drove back the shadows.
Hanging slabs of whale meat and densely packed wooden barrels full of whale oil came into view. Xia Lun took them in with his dark eyes.
He drew another flintlock from his weapons belt and aimed at a barrel beside the torches.
It's over.
He nudged back the flint hammer with his thumb, then pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The bullet struck the barrel. Its scorching heat set the yellow-brown whale oil alight within milliseconds.
An instant later, the oil exploded into flame.
A thick golden flame rose from the barrel like an opening flower bud. Black smoke and ghostly blue-violet flames spread outward, engulfing the other barrels. In less than half a second, it all swelled into a dazzling orange fireball!
Boom!
A scalding wave of heat rushed upward. Sparks rose through billowing smoke, and the smell of burning wood overwhelmed the blood on the deck.
The cleansing flames climbed. The wooden hatch cover caught fire, its edges glowing gold-red with heat before crumbling into ash.
Flames surged from the hatch like a fountain. The crowd burst into cheers, and Geliide grinned more fiercely than anyone.
Boom!
The fire kept spreading. Amid the sizzling of roasting flesh, the monster in the Forecastle let out a hysterical shriek.
With a last burst of strength, it slammed into the door. The wood bowed outward, then shattered.
But beyond that first door stood a second, makeshift barricade.
"Everyone else, go!" Xia Lun ordered. "Priest, bring the people you chose. We're holding that door."
The Priest nodded eagerly. He shouted several Church Prayer Texts that Xia Lun could not understand, and a few fanatical pirates broke from the group to follow him toward the Forecastle's main stairway.
Everyone else hurried toward the lifeboats at the ship's side, just as planned.
Bang!
The monster struck the second barricade. Nails sprang loose, and the planks and iron bars wavered. Several shriveled tentacles squeezed through gaps along its edges and writhed outward like snakes.
Xia Lun took a long-handled thrusting spear from a pirate and rushed toward the barricade with the others.
As the fire spread, even the air seemed to burn. Blisters rose across the monster's exposed tentacles as though they were seafood on a grill. Their once-terrifying black barbs now looked like cooked squid arms.
Following their plan, the pirates took their places behind the barricade. They drove their spears forward, crouched, and planted their boots against the shafts, wedging the spearheads into the door.
This was the tactic the old man had spent two days devising. Each shaft, spearhead, and door formed a sturdy triangle; each pirate's boots, body, and spear formed another. Together, the pirates and their long-handled spears braced the barricade fast.
The door steadied at once. The force of the monster's blows traveled down the spear shafts and into the deck.
Bang!
Then a tentacle punched through the door and straight through a pirate's head!
Blood sprayed. The unlucky man died instantly, but the other fanatical pirates acted as though they had seen nothing. As the Priest prayed, they held their positions without a word.
"Xia Lun!" the monster cried through the waves of heat, its voice desperate and furious. "Open the door!"
Xia Lun said nothing. Speaking might reveal his position and draw an attack. Getting himself killed by a poorly timed reply now would be a miserable end.
The heat kept rising. Small flames soon appeared across the barricade and deck.
"Don't force me!" The monster's shrieks grew weaker, and so did its blows. "If you won't let me live, you won't live either! Open. The. Door! Please! Don't force me!"
Thick black smoke poured from the Forecastle stairway. The heart of the fire had reached it. The monster shrieked faster and faster, but its words were no longer intelligible.
The faint smell of roasting flesh drifted through the air.
Xia Lun wiped the sweat from his brow and smiled in relief.
The monster was finished. All he had to do now was retrieve the fireproof Prayerbook of the Drowned, and the plan would be complete.
At that thought, he glanced back at the Gunpowder Barrel and the heavy musket behind him.
When they had made the plan, Xia Lun had expected a far more formidable monster. He and the pirates had prepared plenty of contingencies. Now it seemed they had overestimated it.
The old man's "Gunpowder Barrel" packed with nails, Geliide's fork-mounted "heavy musket," even the Wicker Man—none of them had been needed. The monster was already at death's door.
The fire spread faster. Xia Lun looked to one side and saw that the ship's main structure was ablaze. Its last mast erupted in flame like a medieval pyre for burning Heretics.
Under the intense heat, the barricade before him began to warp...
"Xia Lun, it's time to pull back!" the old man called from the distance. "That monster's done for!"
"Stick to the plan!" Xia Lun shouted. "One more minute!"
"Fire is the blessing of the Undying Sacred Flame!" the Priest added incoherently. Firelight played across his sweat-soaked face, twisting his expression into one of fervor. "This is the revelation after our trial!"
—Tap.
Xia Lun suddenly heard a sound that did not belong. Before he could think about it, something cool touched his forehead.
What was that?
He looked up instinctively. Another round, cool drop landed on his forehead, ran down the bridge of his nose, gathered at its tip, then fell to the deck.
Tap.
Xia Lun's dark eyes narrowed. His heart began to beat faster.
Was it raining?
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