Sea Reaper: The Legend of the Black-Eyed “Boy”

"Once, I had so many questions I wanted to ask you. Why him—why my uncle? Why so cruel? Who ordered it? Why leave me alive...?" Nick lowered her hand. Her slightly curled hair brushed against her emotionless face. "But after all these years, I'm not interested anymore. I just want you to die."

Nick grabbed the triangular dagger and expertly drove it into Pedro's right chest, slipping it between his tenth rib and eleventh floating rib at a forty-five-degree upward angle. His right lung was instantly pierced; a mix of blood and air sprayed from the wound.

The man immediately lost the ability to scream. Karl kicked him down onto the cold stone floor.

"You won't die quickly. I didn't twist the blade. The wound's small, and bleeding won't be excessive," Nick said with chilling calm, like describing a lunch recipe. "But all the air you inhale will leak right out through the hole. You'll suffocate slowly, like a fish out of water."

"I'd like to add," Victor chimed in while flipping a candelabra to jam it against the door handle, blocking the guards outside, "if a major blood vessel in the lung is punctured, you might drown in your own blood instead. Also, with my skills, I definitely can't patch that hole—but you could try a coroner with tailoring experience."

Nick had already scanned the room—it wasn't a drawing room at all, but a plain chamber on the top floor of the castle. No exits except the door. She ran to the window and looked down: sheer cliffs, a white blanket of boulders far below. The fierce wind sent loose stones tumbling down the rock face.

"Cain…"

Karl suddenly heard Pedro murmuring faintly. He knelt down to catch the dying man's final words.

"Cain killed Abel… God… would not forgive… so I could not… kill you…"

Pedro's wound bubbled with blood, hissing with every breath. He was answering Nick's question.

"If you were like… your mother… unstable… could be controlled… we're all… pawns of His Majesty…"

"You mean Charles?!" Karl bent down, shaking Pedro by the shoulders. "What does he want?!"

Pedro shook his head slightly. "Back then… he was just a child… It was me… We had no choice… His Majesty wanted both factions… to wear each other down…"

"So you came up with the idea of driving her insane?! You knew how sacred her bloodline was—she was the only heir we ever supported!!" Karl lost control, shouting the secret aloud.

The blood bubbling from Pedro's wound grew quieter—his death was near. Yet his face held no hatred. In fact, he smiled faintly, peacefully.

"You're… a knight? So was I… We all serve… the unity… of Spain…"

This man, willing to descend into hell itself to achieve his goals, finally died. But he didn't close his eyes—perhaps he regretted not living to see his dream come true.

"Well then," Victor said shakily, as pounding thuds outside threatened to break the door down. "Captain Nick, how do we get out of here?"

Karl kept dragging furniture to barricade the door. Nick picked up a fallen weapon from beside the corpse and swung it for feel.

"Option A: we open the door and carve a bloody path out."

"That'll require taking down at least five hundred people!" Victor shrieked. "You didn't even bring your scythe! And what about me?! I've never done any physical labor besides dancing!!"

"Option B: we climb out the window and descend the cliff to the coast." Nick discarded the heavy sword and pulled a coiled rope from under her long coat.

Victor rushed to the window and stuck his head out. The moment the wind hit, his perfectly styled hair flew into chaos.

"This is suicide!" he cried, clutching his chest and stumbling back, lips pale. "Let's go with Option C—grab someone's shirt, make a white flag, and surrender!"

"Then we get hanged side by side, our corpses tarred and strung up at the port to dry. Five copper coins for anyone who wants a close-up." Nick had already secured the rope and tossed it down. She called to Karl, "What's the order?"

"You first! Then the doctor! I'll go last!" Karl shouted, just as the guards outside brought up a battering ram. The door shuddered ominously.

Nick gripped the rope and leapt out the window. She waved to the ship's doctor. "Come on! No time to waste! If you fall, I'll catch you!"

Karl dropped all decorum, grabbed the ghostly pale Victor, and tossed him out the window onto the rope. The three of them now dangled from a near hundred-meter cliff like a string of grasshoppers, swaying in the gale.

The cliff was heavily weathered—one touch sent stones tumbling. There were no footholds. Nick and Karl, strong-armed and agile, descended quickly. Victor, though, had never faced such peril. He trembled violently, clinging to the rope, vision swimming without his glasses.

"Move! Just MOVE!" Nick shouted from below when she saw Victor still frozen in place. "If you don't move, Karl's dead!"

Victor knew his life depended on it. He gritted his teeth and slowly dragged himself downward with the grace of an aging sloth.

"I swear! I swear on Hippocrates! On Pliny! On Soranus! On Claudius Galen! I swear to God and every damned ancestor—I will NEVER get involved with you people again!!" he sobbed dramatically into the roaring wind.

They were nearly at the bottom when suddenly, a thunderous crash echoed from above—the door had been breached. Startled, Victor lost his grip and slipped. Nick had anticipated this and snatched his arm mid-fall. But human weight plus momentum exceeded what she'd calculated.

Crunch.

Her elbows dislocated with two sickening cracks.

Agony surged through her arms, but Nick, ever practiced in pain tolerance, gritted her teeth and held on to Victor's wrist without a word. The doctor instinctively grabbed the swaying rope to ease the burden on her. He knew there would be no more lucky breaks. Somehow, with newfound resolve, he managed to descend the last ten meters by himself.

Nick's elbows hung uselessly. She could hear Spanish voices above yelling, "Cut the rope!" The numbness and pain in her arms made it impossible to move.

As the axes hacked downward, in that desperate moment, Karl's mind went utterly calm.

So this is my purpose. My meaning.

He let go of the rope without hesitation, wrapped Nick tightly in his arms, and fell with her into the void.

The rope snapped.