Chapter 42
All across the world, the sea shivered.
Somewhere in the East, a fisherman dropped his net and turned to the water. A mother in the North closed her window and hushed her children, staring into a sky darker than ink. In the South, priests fell to their knees and whispered prayers. And in the West, far beyond sight, ships turned away from the horizon in fear.
The whispers spread. The clash of something ancient. Something wrong.
The sea knew it. The earth trembled beneath it.
And yet, the sea held.
It didn't roar or rise. It stayed still.
Because it knew—he was fighting.
Elias.
There, standing atop the water like it was solid ground, Elias faced the Drowned King. The god-monster loomed before him, no longer the towering titan he once was. His right arm was gone, torn clean from his body. Black sludge pulsed where the limb used to be, bubbling in pain and fury.
And Elias… Elias was barely standing.
His black hair was soaked in blood and seawater, clinging to his pale face. His eyes, once sharp and defiant, were now glassy—red from blood and exhaustion. His shoulders trembled. His clothes were shredded, torn by claws, swords, and storms. And yet, there he was. Still upright. Still alive.
Just barely.
Jake Sparrow watched from the deck of the Black Pearl, one arm clutched against his ribs. Blood coated his side, and Raina sat beside him, wrapping her own wound, her hands shaking. Jake tried to stand but fell to one knee, eyes locked on the scene before them.
"Bloody hell," he whispered. "He's still going."
Elias tilted his head up to the sky, blinking against the salt and blood in his eyes. He spoke, his voice low and cracked.
"I'm tired."
The wind carried his words across the sea, like a confession shared with the world.
"I have been fighting this fucked-up fuck for over five hours," he continued, coughing blood from his mouth. "I'm bloody. I'm tired. I'm hungry."
His voice rose slightly, laced with disbelief and bitterness.
"I want to eat! Drink some rum! Sing a song! Have a beautiful day like every goddamn human on this fucked-up earth!"
The Drowned King snarled, black tentacles twitching from the stump of his arm, his one eye glowing like molten poison.
Elias didn't care.
"But instead of that," he muttered, spitting blood onto the water. "Here I am. Fighting a fucker like you. Like a lunatic."
He laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. Then he sighed and looked up to the sky one last time.
"Goddamnit."
He lowered his gaze to the Drowned King.
"Okay," he said, eyes sharp once more. "Let's finish this, you sea-bastard."
He didn't wait.
He didn't hesitate.
With a shout that split the sky, Elias surged forward like a storm given flesh. His feet exploded off the water, sending waves in every direction. He flew like a cannonball, a dragon with wings of fire and rage.
The Drowned King met him with a roar, raising his remaining arm. Black tentacles burst from his back like wings of rot, lashing through the air toward Elias.
The clash was like thunder.
Elias's sword, glowing with the power of a thousand pirate souls, clashed with the Drowned King's black blade. Sparks of blue fire and green venom erupted with every strike. They moved across the surface of the sea like gods in a duel, every swing cracking the sky above.
The sea churned beneath them.
The ghost fleet and the Drowned King's monsters paused, as if even they were stunned by the fury of the battle.
Jake, watching through bruised eyes, gave a crooked smile.
"That's my boy," he muttered.
Raina wiped her eyes, her lips trembling.
Elias ducked under a swing, slid across the water, and drove his blade into the Drowned King's side. The creature screamed, and a wave of pure black force sent Elias flying.
But he didn't fall.
He twisted in the air, flipped, and landed again with a slash that cracked the water beneath him. And again, he attacked.
Again.
And again.
Until finally, the Drowned King staggered.
His body was withering now, his power leaking out of him like steam. The magic that had kept him together was breaking.
Elias stood across from him, barely able to breathe.
He looked like a man who had nothing left.
But in his eyes—there was fire.
The sea held its breath.
And Elias whispered:
"This is for every soul you took."
He vanished in a blink, and when he reappeared, his blade was buried in the Drowned King's chest.
The sea erupted.
The scream that followed was not of this world.
It was the scream of a god dying.
The Drowned King flailed, cursed, screamed again. But Elias held firm, pushing the sword deeper.
Then, he pulled it out, slashed upward, and with one last roar—cut the Drowned King's head clean off.
Silence.
And then the sea exhaled.
The storm began to break.
The clouds pulled apart, letting a single ray of sun shine down on the water.
Elias stood in it, breathing heavily.
He turned to the Black Pearl.
And collapsed.
Jake ran to him, stumbling across the deck.
"Hold on, mate," he whispered, falling to his knees beside him.
Elias smiled faintly.
"Is it over?"
Jake looked at the fading corpse of the Drowned King.
He nodded.
"Aye. You did it, mate."
Elias let out a long breath.
"Finally."
And everything went quiet.
The war was done.
The sea, at last, was free.
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