Kain watched the shoreline of Krevane fade into the mist, the rebel ship cutting through choppy waters beneath a sky heavy with rain clouds.


    He flexed his fingers inside his new gauntlets—reinforced leather with metal plating across the knuckles and palm. The weight felt good, balanced.


    After two years of fighting, the four brothers had finally saved enough to commission proper weapons for themselves.


    The deck rocked beneath his feet as a wave struck the hull. Kain steadied himself against the railing, feeling the cool mist against his face.


    Their time in Krevane had hardened them all, transformed them from scrawny orphans into fighters.


    "Weather''s turning," Talon said, joining him at the railing. His clone—his other self—wore identical gauntlets but carried himself with a slightly different posture. Where Kain tended to be more contemplative, Talon often embraced action more readily. The thin scar over his right eye had faded to a pale line, barely visible in the dim light.


    "Should make for good cover," Kain replied. "How long until we reach Ember Island?"


    "Captain says four hours, if the wind holds." Talon ran a hand through his black hair, now slick with rain. "Redd''s been studying the maps. Says there''s a small cove on the northern side where we can dock without being spotted."


    Kain nodded, picturing the approach. Ember Island was small, barely five miles across at its widest point. Unlike Krevane with its cities and infrastructure, Ember Island hosted only a handful of fishing villages scattered along its eastern shore. The western half remained largely wilderness—dense forest and rocky hills that rose toward a dormant volcano at the island''s center.


    "And the pirates?" Kain asked.


    "Anchored at Crescent Bay on the southwest curve. It''s a sheltered inlet with a wide beach. Good place to celebrate their haul and repair their ship."


    Redd emerged from below deck, ducking his head beneath the low doorframe.


    "We should rest before we arrive," Redd said, his voice low enough that only Kain and Talon could hear him. "Once we dock, it''ll be a three-mile hike through forest terrain to reach their position."


    "Where''s Ash?" Kain asked.


    Redd gestured toward the bow. "Practicing with his new staff. Says the balance is different from his wooden one."


    Kain spotted Ash spinning the metal staff in practiced arcs, the weapon making soft whistling sounds as it cut through the rain-heavy air. The staff collapsed into three sections for easy transport but locked solid for combat. Ash had insisted on the upgrade after his wooden staff had shattered during a particularly brutal skirmish with government forces three months prior.


    "He''s excited," Talon observed. "Too excited."


    "I know," Kain sighed. "I''ll talk to him before we land. Remind him this is a stealth operation."


    "Good luck with that," Redd said with a wry smile.


    . . .


    Four hours later, the rebel vessel slipped into a narrow cove on Ember Island''s northern shore. The captain kept the running lights dimmed as they approached, relying on local knowledge to navigate the shallow waters. The rain had stopped, but fog clung to the shoreline, providing natural concealment.


    "Remember," the rebel captain said as the brothers prepared to disembark, "one flare at dawn if you succeed. We''ll wait offshore until midday, then assume the worst."


    Kain nodded. "We''ll signal. Thank you for the transport."


    The captain gave them a grim smile. "Good hunting. The rebellion appreciates your service these past years."


    The brothers exchanged glances. The captain didn''t know this was their final mission, that they had no intention of returning to Krevane. Better that way—clean breaks were easier.


    They slipped over the side of the ship into a small rowboat and made for shore in silence. Once on land, they secured the boat and oriented themselves.


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    "South by southwest," Redd whispered, consulting a small compass. "Three miles through these woods, then we''ll hit a ridge overlooking Crescent Bay."


    The forest was dense but navigable, with a game trail providing relatively clear passage. Moonlight filtered through the canopy in silver patches, illuminating their path in broken fragments.


    Kain moved with practiced silence, his footfalls barely disturbing the carpet of leaves and moss beneath him. Two years of combat operations had taught them all how to move through hostile territory undetected.


    The terrain gradually sloped upward as they approached the island''s central highlands. Volcanic rock formations jutted from the earth like broken teeth, requiring careful navigation.


    An hour into their journey, they paused at a small stream to drink and check their bearings.


    "Another mile," Redd whispered, wiping water from his chin. "We should start hearing them soon if they''re still celebrating."


    Ash twirled his staff impatiently. "I call dibs on the captain."


    Kain shot him a warning look. "We stick to the plan. Reconnaissance first. If they''re asleep, we take them quietly."


    "And if they''re not?" Ash challenged.


    "Then we adapt," Kain replied firmly. "But we don''t charge in blind."


    They continued through increasingly rocky terrain until they reached the ridge overlooking Crescent Bay. Dropping to their stomachs, the four brothers crawled to the edge and peered down at the scene below.


    The bay curved in a perfect crescent, with white sand beaches stretching nearly half a mile. At the southern end, the Soggy Weasel was anchored close to shore, its patched sails furled and hull riding low in the water. A small campfire blazed on the beach, surrounded by five figures.


    "So much for catching them asleep," Talon muttered.


    Kain narrowed his eyes, studying the pirates.


    Captain Rhodes sat on a driftwood log, gesturing wildly as he spoke to his crew. His short dreadlocks were adorned with bottle caps that glinted in the firelight.


    Beside him, a woman with an eye patch—presumably ''Hackjaw'' Loma—was drinking from a large bottle. The others were scattered around the fire: a nervous-looking man in oil-stained overalls, another with what appeared to be crossed-out tattoos on his chest, and a smaller figure that moved with strange, jerky motions.


    "They''re drunk," Redd observed. "Celebrating their latest raid."


    "Good," Ash said, rising to a crouch. "Makes our job easier."


    Kain grabbed his arm. "We still approach quietly. Get as close as possible before engaging."


    "Why bother?" Ash grinned, the firelight reflecting in his eyes from below. "There''s five of them and four of us. We''ve faced worse odds against trained soldiers. These are just drunk pirates."


    "Ash—" Kain started, but his brother was already moving, sliding down the embankment toward the beach with his staff extended to full length.


    Redd sighed. "So much for stealth."


    "Let''s go," Talon said, rising to follow. "Can''t let him have all the fun."


    Kain exchanged a resigned look with Redd before they both moved to follow their brothers down to the beach.


    By the time they reached level ground, Ash was already striding confidently toward the campfire, his metal staff gleaming in the moonlight. The pirates hadn''t noticed him yet, too engrossed in their captain''s apparently hilarious story.


    "—and then I told the merchant, ''Sir, that''s not my parrot, that''s the governor''s wife!''" Rhodes finished, prompting uproarious laughter from his crew.


    "Excuse me," Ash called, his voice carrying across the beach. "Captain Rhodes of the Mudflap Pirates?"


    The laughter died instantly. Five heads swiveled toward Ash, expressions ranging from surprise to confusion.


    "Who''s asking?" Rhodes demanded, standing unsteadily.


    "Ash Creed, future Reaper(Pirate Hunter equivalent to Yonko) and greatest pirate hunter in the world," Ash announced, spinning his staff. "And these are my brothers."


    Kain, Talon, and Redd spread out behind Ash, forming a loose semicircle. Kain tightened his gauntlets, watching the pirates for sudden movements.


    "Pirate hunters?" Rhodes laughed, though Kain detected a nervous edge to it. "Boys, you''ve made a grave mistake. We are the feared Wretched Pirates, scourge of the North Blue!"


    "Mudflap Pirates," Kain corrected. "And we''re here for your ship."


    Rhodes drew himself up indignantly. "The Soggy Weasel is not for sale!"


    "We''re not buying," Talon said.


    The pirates scrambled for their weapons. Hackjaw Loma produced twin cleavers from beneath her cloak, while the man in overalls—Boltz, Kain presumed—fumbled with a large wrench. The tattooed navigator reached for a sling at his belt, and the strange smaller figure—Pickle—whistled sharply, summoning a seagull that circled overhead.


    "Take them!" Rhodes commanded, drawing a chipped cutlass.


    Ash charged directly at the captain, staff whirling. Kain locked eyes with Hackjaw Loma, who rushed toward him with her cleavers raised high. Talon engaged the navigator, while Redd squared off against Boltz and the feral cabin boy.


    Loma swung her cleavers in wild, unpredictable arcs. "You dare challenge a lady of my station?" she shrieked in an affected noble accent that contrasted sharply with her appearance.


    Kain ducked under her first swing, then blocked the second with his gauntleted forearm. The metal plating absorbed the impact, allowing him to counter with a swift jab to her midsection. She staggered back but recovered quickly, resuming her frenzied attack.


    Around him, the beach erupted into combat. Talon dodged explosive pouches from the navigator''s sling, closing distance with impressive speed. Redd''s dual swords flashed in the firelight as he fended off both the mechanic''s wrench and the cabin boy''s lunging attacks. Ash and Rhodes circled each other, trading blows that sent Rhodes stumbling backward with each impact.


    Loma pressed her attack, forcing Kain to give ground. Her fighting style was chaotic but not without skill—she''d clearly survived her share of battles. But Kain had spent two years fighting in the pit and another six months in a civil war, honing his techniques against trained soldiers. He watched her movements, identified the pattern beneath the chaos, and waited for his opening.


    ****


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