The only thing worse than the chaos of battle, was the silence that followed.
The pirates had been silent for hours, retreating into the depths of their fortress.
Alexander paced behind his men.
His mind is racing.
He originally thought they were preparing for a siege, but Hans said they wouldn't…
They may be just panicking?
But for hours?
He also thought they could be killing the slaves, which made his stomach churn.
Please don't let it come to that…
Klaus and Wagner watched the gates with stone expressions, while the marines shifted awkwardly behind their barricade.
Hinata was on the docks, along with the Wandering Moon.
She was helping the sailors take the pirate ships.
Hans had a few of his men join her, while the rest sat in the tower.
Waiting.
"This is getting ridiculous."
Wagner grunted, kicking the dirt.
"Maybe Hans was wrong… we should look into bringing more supplies for a siege."
Klaus looked over his shoulder at Alexander, who missed the suggestion entirely.
"Sir!" He called, his voice sharper, "You okay?"
Alexander's head snapped up.
"H-huh? Oh… yeah…"
He forced a smirk, before resuming his pacing.
Klaus sighed, he knew he'd have to assume command.
As if sensing his lowest moment, the doors of the fort opened with a groan.
Time seemed to slow as Alexander looked up.
What emerged weren't pirates, but large, orange men dressed in rags with expressions of shame.
Their neck and ankles chained, tears streaked down their scarred faces.
Behind them were pirates armed with spears, the tips of which were pressed against the ogres' necks.
Alexander raised a hand to his mouth as he stepped back.
"No…"
"Fire!"
Klaus gave the order without hesitation, and the line erupted in gunfire.
The ogres cried out in pain, some stumbling as others gritted their teeth.
"Fire!"
Another round of gunfire tore through their muscular frames, black blood oozing onto the grass below.
And yet they continued marching forward.
Alexander's blood went cold.
His voice was dying in his throat.
He watched as his men fired again and again…
He watched as the massive creatures cried in agony, forced to march into certain death.
And he watched as the light was drained from their eyes.
The Marines were visibly shaken as they continued their onslaught.
"They… that aren't stop–"
Sixty meters out, a volley of musket fire ripped through the lines.
Cutting down half a dozen marines.
"They're returning fire!"
"Shoot between them! Now!"
Klaus demanded, throwing a hand down as he fired his revolver in the mass of bodies.
The ogres keeled over less than fifty meters away, their bodies finally succumbed to their injuries.
The pirates behind the ogres were cut down quickly, but that only revealed the next threat.
Demons.
Black skinned, six-eyed demons.
All female.
They charged over the corpses of the pirates and ogres, armed only with their claws and tails.
A few marines ditched their positions, throwing their rifles down and running towards the pier.
The rest opened fire.
Every shot was a miss.
The demons were too fast, and crashed into their lines, jumping over the barricade.
The screams of the marines were brutal.
Meanwhile, in the tower where Hans and six others sat, there was quiet chaos.
"Sir. They're too fast. T-the demons. I can't get a shot…"
Erich was pale as he swished his rice right and left.
Hans gritted his teeth as he stared down at the battle, it was then that he spotted a new formation rushing out of the fort.
Dozens of men, holding what looked to be a massive umbrella.
They pointed it towards the tower and rushed forward.
Hans' eyes widened.
"They're coming for… us?"
He whispered, his voice shaken, "That's not… no."
The remaining snipers opened up on the rushing pirates.
Firing wildly at the large white target.
Most of their shots hit the center, but unbeknownst to them, the pirates were hugging the edge.
Meanwhile, the main formation was in chaos.
The demons had the Marines pinned down.
And the only one wielding a smirk was Wagner.
"Come get some ya filthy bitches!"
He slammed the butt of his rifle into the chest of a demon, then shot her with his pistol.
Alexander drew his knife, attempting to help his men.
But he was blindsided by a demon rushing from the left.
She tackled him, pinning him on the ground and bearing her teeth.
Alexander struggled against her, his eyes damp with unshed tears.
<"Please… don't do this.">
He spoke what little demon he knew from Zara.
And for the briefest of moments, the demon's eyes widened in recognition.
<"how–">
She was cut tragically short by a bayonet to the neck, her body thrown to the side.
Gurgling on her blood.
Reinhardt appeared above him, reaching out his hand.
"Sir, don't die here!"
Alexander's heart hammered against his ribs as he took his hand.
His body trembled.
Barely having enough time to recognize the situation before a new formation appeared at the gates.
A hundred pirates charged out, bayonets at the ready.
And standing on the bastions looking down were all eight cannons.
Fully manned and loaded.
Alexander looked over at the tower.
His snipers fired wildly at a mass of pirates rushing forward.
He turned his attention back to the cannons, just as they fired.
The world erupted in a haze of fire.
The air was split with shrieking metal as cannonballs tore across the 100-meter gap.
The barricades were disentangled, and the men behind them turned into mist.
The shockwave threw Alexander from his feet.
He hit the ground so hard he broke his shoulder, his body tumbling along the landscape.
Screams were cut short, replaced with a blaring ringing sound.
Alexander was so overwhelmed he couldn't think, he couldn't cry… he couldn't even panic.
He just lay there, dazed and defeated.
The remaining marines crashed against the charging pirates in a brutal melee.
Wagner led the charge, laughing as smashed pirates against each other.
Meanwhile, at the tower, the pirates had closed the distance and were now barking up the base of it.
Hans had the ladder destroyed, and the men huddled down.
They couldn't even peek out without the risk of being shot.
Hans seemed to have a breakdown in this moment, grabbing his head as he rocked back and forth.
Watching from the bastion was Lieutenant Ali and the pirate captain.
<"Damn…"> the captain muttered, <"I've never felt bad for anyone before...">
Ali ignored him, his eyes narrowing at a charging figure in white.
She was unnaturally fast, to the point of being a blur.
It was then that he realized something was fundamentally wrong.
He hadn't accounted for a D'élite.
<"Run."> he spoke with no emotion and all haste.