Gangplank's death sent shockwaves through the assembled pirates, but before anyone could process what they'd witnessed, blazing flames erupted from the corpse itself. The inferno consumed the infamous pirate king completely, reducing his arrogant form to nothing but scattered ashes within moments.
"The Pirate King is dead!!!" someone screamed in absolute terror.
Panic spread like wildfire as the crowd began fleeing in every direction. For years, they had lived under Gangplank's iron-fisted rule, intimidated by his reputation and brutal methods. If someone could casually eliminate their seemingly invincible leader, none of them stood any chance of resistance.
News of Gangplank's demise spread throughout Bilgewater Port with incredible speed as the panicked survivors carried word to every corner of the city. Among those who received this earth-shattering information was Miss Fortune Sarah, who had just returned to her secret base to conceal her carefully prepared explosives.
"He's... actually dead?" Sarah whispered in disbelief.
The weapon in her hands clattered to the floor as shock overwhelmed her completely. She had spent years methodically preparing for this moment—gathering resources, recruiting allies, planning the perfect assassination attempt against the tyrant who had destroyed her family.
But now, the Pirate King who had embodied her life's hatred had been eliminated like an insignificant insect by some stranger who was merely responding to a minor provocation.
"We heard correctly," her lieutenant Raven confirmed slowly, his own voice heavy with amazement. "Gangplank is truly dead."
He too struggled to comprehend this development. A pirate king who had dominated Bilgewater for decades had fallen to an outsider within minutes of their first encounter.
"Don't just stand there, Sarah," Raven urged, his tactical mind already shifting to immediate opportunities. "Since he's gone, we need to act fast. Everyone will be fighting over his territory!"
With Gangplank's death, his extensive criminal empire would naturally fragment among various competing factions. As one of the largest organized forces besides the former king's loyalists, they possessed a genuine chance to claim the most valuable districts and establish themselves as the new rulers.
"You're absolutely right, Raven," Sarah replied, her shock giving way to steely determination.
While she hadn't achieved personal vengeance, Gangplank was definitively dead and would never threaten anyone again. That had to be enough.
"Deploy our people immediately," she commanded. "I want Bilgewater Port under our control before sunrise!"
Seeing Sarah's familiar resolve return, Raven grinned with satisfaction. This was the fierce leader he remembered and respected.
Following her orders, violent conflicts erupted throughout Bilgewater Port as various factions clashed over territorial control. The battles included both ambitious newcomers and remnants of Gangplank's former organization, all desperate to claim their share of the power vacuum.
However, every group carefully avoided the area surrounding the tavern where Marcus remained. These weren't particularly civilized individuals concerned about property damage—they simply refused to risk disturbing the man who had so casually eliminated the Pirate King.
Sarah moved through the chaotic streets with her twin pistols, systematically eliminating hostile forces that challenged her claims. But her ultimate destination remained the tavern where she hoped to meet the mysterious stranger who had accomplished what she'd spent years planning.
Despite her hatred for Gangplank, she couldn't deny his reputation as one of the most feared pirates to ever sail these waters. Anyone capable of killing such a legendary figure deserved her curiosity and respect.
Inside the Tavern
Marcus continued nursing his glass of terrible rum, his face twisted in obvious disgust. Compared to this swill, even the bitter almond-flavored whiskey he'd endured in previous worlds qualified as premium alcohol.
"You seem rather dissatisfied with that drink," Sarah observed as she entered the establishment.
She'd noted his perpetual grimace and obvious reluctance to continue consuming the beverage.
"More than dissatisfied," Marcus replied with genuine distaste. "This is significantly worse than anything Vander serves back home."
He turned to study Sarah with analytical interest. She appeared to be an ordinary human with exceptional marksmanship skills and striking physical attributes, but nothing particularly supernatural about her capabilities.
"The people fighting outside belong to you," he stated matter-of-factly. "Have them quiet down."
Sarah glanced toward Raven near the entrance and nodded for him to relay the order before focusing her attention back on Marcus.
"So you killed him..." she began uncertainly.
"Killed the pirate leader? Wasn't he your enemy?" Marcus asked casually.
He took another reluctant sip of rum before abandoning the attempt entirely, but his words sent Sarah reeling with shock.
While everyone in Bilgewater knew about her hostile relationship with Gangplank, very few understood the true personal nature of their conflict. Most people assumed she simply wanted to collect the bounty on his head before seizing control of the port for herself.
Only her most trusted allies knew the real story behind her vendetta.
While she processed this revelation, Marcus gestured toward the weapons at her side. Both pistols flew through the air to hover directly in front of him for inspection.
"Your mother crafted these, correct? What are their names?" he asked with genuine curiosity. "Let me guess—this one is 'Shock' and this one is 'Awe'?"
Marcus raised an eyebrow with amusement, though he genuinely didn't know the weapons' actual designations. He understood they were legendary firearms created by Sarah's mother, a renowned gunsmith.
However, his casual guess made Sarah stare at him with an expression suggesting she found his naming sense rather crude.
"My mother did create them," she confirmed. "She was the most famous weapon master in all the seas. These guns' origin connects directly to Gangplank—he commissioned them from her, then used them to murder both my parents. I was fortunate to escape with my life."
As Marcus had suspected, Sarah's twin pistols were indeed the same weapons that had killed her family. However, in his estimation, their value lay more in historical significance than practical utility.
While the firearms appeared elegantly crafted, their actual destructive capability couldn't compare to his own arsenal.
"So what do you call them?" Marcus asked again.
"I haven't chosen names yet," Sarah admitted. "I planned to name them after killing Gangplank myself."
Without achieving personal vengeance, she had never felt motivated to honor her mother's final work with proper designations. But now that Gangplank was dead, perhaps she should finally acknowledge these inherited weapons.
"How about 'Bloodthorn' and 'Firethorn'?" Marcus suggested with amusement. "This one represents blood, this one represents fire."
The names had occurred to him spontaneously without any deeper meaning—he simply found the combination interesting.
Sarah studied her returned weapons thoughtfully before nodding with approval.
"I like those names," she decided.
After accepting the christening of her pistols, Sarah continued her interrogation.
"You're obviously not from Bilgewater. What brings you here? Surely you didn't travel this distance just to kill Gangplank?"
"I'm traveling to the Shadow Isles," Marcus explained. "I came here seeking navigational information."
The Shadow Isles?
Sarah's expression immediately shifted to one of horrified concern, as if she were looking at a man who had already died.
"The Shadow Isles are the realm of the dead," she warned urgently. "No living being can set foot there and survive."
"The realm of the dead? Are you referring to the upcoming Night of Lost Souls?" Marcus asked with obvious knowledge.
From Gangplank's extracted memories, Marcus had learned not only the Shadow Isles' location but also various supernatural phenomena associated with that cursed region—including the Night of Lost Souls that periodically afflicted Bilgewater.
Recalling those terrifying episodes from the dead pirate's experiences, Marcus chuckled with genuine amusement. Such manifestations might prove genuinely frightening to ordinary mortals, but they posed no threat to someone with his capabilities.
His Nekros configuration possessed power that dwarfed anything these lost spirits could muster. If he weren't specifically seeking the energies of the Ruined King's curse, he would never bother visiting what most considered an absolute death zone.
"Actually, I came here because of the Night of Lost Souls," Marcus revealed with confidence. "You'll witness my true power when it arrives."
"I'll be watching with great interest," Sarah replied skeptically.
She retrieved her newly named pistols and departed the tavern. Considerable work remained ahead—Bilgewater Port required immediate stabilization under new leadership.
Gunfire erupted outside as Sarah dealt with various criminal elements attempting to challenge her authority. Her mother's legendary craftsmanship ensured that eliminating such rabble posed no significant difficulty.
After Sarah's departure, Marcus's eyes began glowing with void energy as his enhanced vision surveyed distant portions of Bilgewater Port. A figure moving through the shadows caught his supernatural attention.
"Pyke, the Blood Harbor Ripper? That one certainly holds grudges," Marcus observed with mild approval. "Though his vigilante activities benefit this place considerably. He only kills genuinely evil individuals."
His gaze shifted toward another location—a temple where a massive sea beast statue dominated the central chamber.
"The deity worshipped by the Buhru people. Quite impressive," he noted with interest. "I'll speak with it when I return."
The mystical images gradually faded as his awareness returned to the tavern's mundane surroundings.
Buhru Temple
Illaoi, who had been conducting her evening prayers, suddenly felt a powerful presence examining her sacred space. She looked up sharply at Nagakabouros's statue with growing alarm.
"Great Nagakabouros, what did you sense?" she asked urgently.
Energy churned within the sacred effigy as the sea beast god attempted to focus on whatever had triggered its attention. However, mysterious light prevented clear observation of the source.
"Something dangerous approaches," Illaoi concluded grimly.
Any entity capable of making Nagakabouros react with such concern represented a significant threat requiring immediate investigation.
She hefted her golden idol and strode from the temple with determined purpose. Regardless of what was coming, she would stand ready to defend her people and their sacred traditions.
That Evening
The conflicts throughout Bilgewater Port gradually subsided as night fell and thick fog began rolling in from the distant ocean. Eerie whistling sounds drifted through the mist, causing immediate recognition and terror among the port's residents.
"Lost Souls... Night of Lost Souls!" someone shrieked in absolute panic. "It's the Night of Lost Souls!"
The supernatural phenomenon had arrived with unexpected timing. Citizens fled toward higher ground throughout the city, understanding that elevation provided their only hope of survival. The Night of Lost Souls couldn't be fought or reasoned with—only endured until dawn broke its terrible spell.
"Sarah! The Night of Lost Souls is here!" Raven reported urgently, finding her just as they finished securing their new territory.
"So he was right!" Sarah exclaimed with sudden realization.
She remembered Marcus's casual mention of this very event during their earlier conversation. While Bilgewater experienced these supernatural visitations regularly, they didn't occur on any predictable schedule.
"He predicted this? You mean that stranger?" Raven immediately understood that only Marcus could have provided such specific timing.
"Exactly. He promised to show me his true power," Sarah confirmed, already moving toward the exit. "Come on—let's find him."
They traveled quickly through their claimed districts to reach the tavern where Marcus waited.
Upon arrival, Sarah noticed he still held the same glass of rum from hours earlier.
"Is that drink really so terrible that you haven't finished it yet?" she asked with amusement.
"When I return, I'll bring you a bottle of proper alcohol," Marcus promised. "As for this swill, anyone who wants it can have it."
Raven accepted the offered glass and drained its contents in a single gulp.
"Tsk... Ahh," he gasped, setting down the empty vessel with obvious confusion. "Isn't this just normal rum?"
Seeing such bewilderment, Marcus could only shake his head in resignation. Had these people lived in such isolation that they'd forgotten what quality alcohol tasted like?
"Forget it," he sighed, rising from his seat as otherworldly sounds grew louder outside. "Since the Night of Lost Souls has begun, I should be leaving."
Marcus walked calmly toward the tavern entrance while Sarah and Raven followed at a respectful distance, watching with fascination as he approached the supernatural phenomenon that terrorized their city.
"Is he really going to be alright?" Raven whispered nervously as Marcus neared the deadly fog bank.
"Looking at his confidence, I think he'll manage," Sarah replied, though uncertainty colored her voice.
As they watched, Marcus stepped directly into the Night of Lost Souls without hesitation. Countless spectral arms emerged from the mist, reaching out to drag him into their cursed realm.
But the moment those ghostly appendages touched Marcus, they dissolved completely. Dark energy began swirling around him, expanding outward in ever-widening circles.
Marcus himself underwent a dramatic transformation, his form becoming increasingly skeletal and ethereal until he had completely assumed the appearance of Nekros—the true embodiment of death itself.
Now he appeared as an authentic reaper, wearing a flowing black hood over desiccated bones while wielding a massive spectral scythe.
WOOOOOOO...
Mournful wailing echoed from within the Night of Lost Souls as countless spirits broke free from the fog and flew directly toward Marcus's transformed figure.
Outside the supernatural phenomenon, Sarah and Raven stared in absolute amazement at the impossible scene unfolding before them. The Night of Lost Souls—previously an unstoppable force of death and despair—began churning violently as countless ghosts attempted to escape its confines.
However, before any spirit could travel far, skeletal hands the size of buildings reached out to grasp them and pull them back into Marcus's domain.
"Dust to dust... Ashes to ashes... All that has passed shall fade away..." Marcus's voice resonated through the fog with otherworldly authority.
In the stunned observers' eyes, the Night of Lost Souls began retreating as if confronted by its natural predator. The supernatural fog pulled back toward the ocean's surface while continuing to dissipate at an incredible rate.
By the time either woman could properly react, the entire phenomenon had retreated completely back to sea and was vanishing with unprecedented speed.
"What in the world have we encountered?" Raven whispered in shocked disbelief.
For decades, Bilgewater's residents had only been able to hide and endure until the Night of Lost Souls naturally faded at dawn. But this time, it was fleeing in terror from Marcus, who consumed its ghostly inhabitants like a true god of death harvesting souls for judgment.
"No wonder... no wonder he dared to visit the Shadow Isles," Sarah murmured with newfound understanding of Marcus's incredible power.
"If I remember correctly, he promised me a bottle of wine!" she added with a slight smile, even as Raven continued staring in shock.
Sarah was definitely looking forward to that particular gift.
They continued watching until the Night of Lost Souls disappeared completely from view before returning to their administrative duties. With the supernatural threat eliminated, they needed to consolidate their control over Bilgewater Port while their rivals remained too terrified to challenge them.
From tonight forward, they would be the undisputed rulers of this pirate haven.
"Boss! The Buhru prophet is here!" one of Sarah's subordinates called out the moment she returned to headquarters.
The news made Sarah pause with sudden concern. Everyone knew about the complicated relationship between the Buhru prophet and the former Pirate King.
"Illaoi? What could she want now? Revenge for Gangplank's death?"
This development puzzled Sarah considerably. The only thing that could draw this reclusive prophet from her temple would likely be investigating the circumstances surrounding Gangplank's elimination.