The Black Heart was a floating city built from wood and rusted iron. It was so big that it could be mistaken for an island if seen from afar.
From above, it looked like a giant octopus, with its limbs stretching out in all directions. It housed more than 500,000 people, with thousands of ships docked at its many ports. Many of which had become part of the city, with some being built on top of others, creating a multi-level network of bridges and walkways.
The sun was hidden behind the clouds, leaving the place looking even darker than usual. A thin layer of mist covered the horizon, giving it an eerie appearance.
"Stay close," Ash warned, pushing his way through the crowd.
Lucian walked right behind him, a knife hidden up his sleeve.
Both of them were wearing a thick hood pulled low over their faces as shadowed figures stood on every corner, and in every alley.
Lucian's senses were on high alert. He for sure didn't want to get lost and turn into a beggar again. What happened when he first visited the south was enough for him.
Settling in a new place was always a challenge, and Lucian thought that since they spoke a common language, it would be easier to integrate. Not like in the South, where it took him years to make something out of himself.
Having a backer was also a much better option than to start from the bottom as a lone wolf. Lucian also gathered as much intel as he could, but it was like hearing an urban legend: a mix of rumors, scary stories, and exaggerated claims.
They've been on sea for a week now, and the crew had a lot of time to get used to Lucian, even if they were still wary of him.
"He's not from here," a whisper came from the right, followed by a snicker. "A landlubber."
Landlubber was someone unfamiliar with sea and ship life. A term often used to make fun of outsiders.
Lucian paused in his steps, which made Ash turn in their direction, "A new recruit, mind your own business."
"Or what? You gonna squeal on us?" A tall, lean man stepped out of the shadow, showing off his height, his hand resting on his sword's hilt, "I thought Woodheart's dogs knew their place."
Hair, dark as ink, fell over his left eye, and the right one was a piercing green that seemed to belong to a snake.
Ash's hand also went to his weapon, and Lucian could see the group of people behind the man, also showing signs of preparing for a fight.
Pirates hated to serve and Lucian could understand where the hate was coming from. D'Angelo's, Roderick's, and other factions like Woodheart's were frowned upon.
They followed the power structure of the kingdom they rebelled against. Serving a captain, following the chain of command, and staying in line. It was the exact opposite of what a pirate should be. Free.
"Strange to see you without your captain. Who is going to protect you now?" The man took another step forward. He looked young, but it was probably due to cultivators' life span. He could be in his nineties for all Lucian knew.
"He will," Ash said and pointed at Lucian, making everyone turn their attention to him, "I bet the Glory founder's head will bring an infinite amount of wealth to whoever takes it."
Lucian looked at Ash, who avoided his eyes, his posture saying: I'm taking you down with me even if I have to die.
Lucian's fingers twitched inside his sleeve. Feeling the handle of the dagger, he unleashed his weapon with a flick of his wrist, blocking the sword's downward swing.
"Rookie mistake," The tall pirate laughed, pushing his sword down to crush Lucian. The blessed weapon broke through the dagger's guard in an instant.
Lucian jumped back, his feet sliding over the wet deck, a gash on his hand from the shattered dagger.
"Oi, don't kill him yet," a man from the crowd of pirates said, "Hostages are worth more alive than death."
"Or we can chop him up and sell him bit by bit. People go crazy with body parts," another suggested.
Lucian's eyes narrowed as he calculated the numbers. Ten against one, with all of them being emerald rank or higher.
Ash had backed away and blended into the crowd as Lucian's heart skipped a beat, realizing the man had played him. Weaker, powerless, and at Lucian's mercy, yet Ash managed to turn the tables.
"Why don't we talk this out?" Lucian offered and raised his arm to block, moving the force of the sword with his armplate, "I'm sure we can come to an agreement."
"Are you going to offer all the money you have?" the sword user laughed, changing the slash mid swing, catching Lucian's side with the flat of the blade. Pressing his weight down, the steel arm bent from the pressure, "You have no idea how many 'talks' we've had with your kind. Greedy bastards."
Lucian retreated, dashing through their formation and making a run for it.
"AFTER HIM!" The tall man shouted, pointing his sword at Lucian's back. "Don't let him escape!"
Lucian turned a few corners, trying to lose his pursuers. A flash of a person appeared from one of the rooftops, jumping in front of him. He quickly veered to the side, but a sword was already swinging at his neck.
He ducked under the blade and rolled on the wet floor. He activated his shackled form, the air around him turning hot, the mist coming from his skin making his clothes stick to his body.
He kicked another man's knees, making him bend forward, and then punched his jaw, but the man barely flinched. Lucian was thrown back by the counter attack, his body sliding across the deck.
The pirate, who managed it, had something else seep through his skin, enveloping his fists with the same green, snake-like energy, he made anything it touched begin to sizzle.
Lucian's armplate wasn't affected by the poison, but his clothes began to smoke where his fists had grazed him. He ripped the cloak off, and dodged the next attack, only to be ambushed by more enemies.
They all had different skills. From extending their bones out of their bodies, to creating a fog around themselves.
Lucian's heart hammered in his chest as he weaved between their attacks. His eyes darted from side to side, making sure none of them would get the chance to attack from his blind spot.
His shackled power matched their speed and strength, but his body wasn't honed enough to keep up. They were trained from a young age for this.
He took a punch to the stomach and flew backward, crashing through a wall. The wood splintered around him as he fell to the floor, the splinters embedding themselves into his skin.