Dark Sister's edge sliced lightly through the air, then sank into a rust-speckled iron helm and the fragile skull beneath it.
"Shhk-humm..."
The sensation of the blade cutting through flesh and bone, scraping against something hard, dissolved beneath its keen edge into a faint, clear metallic hum, like a plucked string.
From beginning to end, he felt almost no resistance. It was as smooth as slicing through a slightly firm lump of fat.
That felt good.
Aegon gave his wrist a slight turn, flicking a few specks of red and white from the sword's tip, and silently praised it.
Having only just acquired this legendary Valyrian steel sword, he felt a warrior's eagerness to try out a new, peerless weapon. His hands had itched for action.
Rather than ride King Ghidorah in a sweep that prized efficiency above all else, he had personally led a squad of Blood Oath Band veterans to clear out the last small pirate stronghold along their route.
It served both to test Dark Sister and to make one final sweep of these waters before returning.
The battle had held no suspense. It had been more of a one-sided execution and weapons test.
Dark Sister was far sharper than ordinary blades. The pirates' shoddy leather armor, rusted mail, and even crude iron helms might as well have been paper before it.
Back aboard his flagship, the Silence, Aegon stood at the bow, studying the sea chart in his hand with a faint frown.
Pirate strongholds had become increasingly difficult to find lately.
Like a disturbed swarm of rats, the pirates who had once operated in small bands scattered across the region had either vanished completely, hiding in more intricate, secluded mazes of reefs.
Or they had joined forces, gathering into groups too powerful to dismiss.
Scouts