A human archaeological team would have spent months or even years combing through the lost city of Atlantis, but the Lycan army showed no such care. With their heightened senses, they found exactly what they wanted and with their heightened strength, they carted it off wholesale in just weeks. The portions of the city wrecked by fighting were scavenged for raw materials. The few intact portions were also ripped apart and scavenged for raw materials. Magical gems and crystals, Mithril, Adamantium, and the odd shiny artifact all made their way into the Lycans’ carts. When they were done, the once proud city was stripped to rubble and stone.

“This is too much,” Franky taps the document on the table, “way too much. How the hell are we going to transport thirteen thousand tons? The Tempestas can barely hold five hundred tons.”

“We could store them in Lieking and just have the ship make several journeys,” Brock suggests.

Franky shakes his head, “The moment the materials reach Camelot, information will leak and Lieking will be swarmed with ships looking for treasure, and the city will slap an import duty on it.”

“Can't Aodean help you with the taxes bit?”

“He’s the one who warned me to make sure the first shipment is as big as possible.”

“Everyone wants a cut,” Calidi adds. The woman leans on the large table, smirking at Franky, who does his best not to make contact. Which doesn't go unnoticed by the grinning Jess.

“The Bulwark believes that there is no easy answer.” Darius chimes in unhelpfully.

Franky rolls his eyes at the man before returning his concentration back to the bundle of papers. “The only other option I can think of is sending Everlet out to gather barges, though even that would attract attention.”

“It would,” a new voice enters the conversation as a bearded, suited, older looking man enters the tent.

“Garn,” Franky acknowledges the powerful Lycan.

The man nods back.

“I’ve come to inform you that the army is packed up and ready to transport your share of the resources to Lieking.”

Franky sighs, “Good… and thank you. Getting all of this done in such a short time would’ve been impossible without your help.”

Garn shakes his head, “You should thank my [Lady] Ambrosia. It was her decision, not mine.”

“Then send her my regards.”

“I will.” Garn turns around, and then steps out of the way as one of the guild’s members arrives out of breath. “Guild Leader, there's an emergency! Scores of pirate ships have been seen just off the coast of Lieking.”

Franky perks up, “Scores?”

The man quickly nods. “Yes. [Captain] Windstrom says he needs help to deal with them.” the man explains, and then frowns as Franky grins widely.

“Garn, you said you were taking your army far south. I have a proposition that may speed up your journey.”

The Lycan raises an eyebrow.

_________________________________________________________

[Pirate Admiral] Ferrum stares through his enchanted spyglass at Lieking, and grins when he sees only five ships anchored at the small port, four of which are his own.

He zooms in on the town. He sees many people walking at the pier, mostly [Longshoremen] and [Laborers], but he also notes several obvious foreigners with high combat levels, some even over level one hundred, which would explain why his ships were taken over. The damage on his former ships indicates the presence of second tier [Mages] with long range bombardment spells, probably a [Pyromancer].

“So, you think you can just take my stuff, kill my [Captains] and expect me not to do anything?” he asks with a metal smile.

He lowers the spyglass and covers his fleet in his aura.

“All [Pirates], prepare for landfall. We attack at sunset. Let’s remind them bastards why they’re scared of us.” he orders.

Orders relayed, Ferrum turns away from the distant spec that is Lieking and returns to his cabin.

As he disappears into the ship, a distant barrel in Lieking lowers unhappily.

________________________________________________________________

Over Lieking, the sun sets and the port town is smothered in moonless darkness except for a few lights at the pier. The town looks as though it has gone completely asleep. To Ferrum’s surprise, it doesn't look like they even set a watch.

“Arrogant,” he whispers. No lights, no sound, except for the soft slap of waves, his armada slips softly forward. His own dreadnought, the Ironhide, sails at the van. She’s a masterfully built vessel, able to hold her own against any of the numbered ships, or will be again once Ferrum has enough iron to fix her.

Then he’ll take his revenge on that blasted woman.

“Right after I deal with whoevers been fucking with my ships,” he whispers again as his armada spreads out to surround both the harbor and shore around Lieking. He’ll make sure to make them pay.

________________________________________________

Under the cover of the night, Franky hides aboard the Tempestas with Everlet, watching over a hundred ships sail towards Lieking, all led by the largest ship he’d seen on Orbis.

“That's a big ship… though it kinda looks damaged.”

Everlet grins, “Ay lad, that ship is the Ironhide and it sounds like the rumors were true.”

“Rumors?”

“Rumors say that Ferrum got into a tussle with Tueta, and that he was forced to retreat with his tail between his legs. And because he escaped, Tueta put a bounty on his head for anyone who can take the fucker out.”

“Tueta’s that [Pirate Archqueen], Right?”

“Aye, and is the second strongest on the seas.” Everett points at the Ironhide, “And Ferrum is considered the ninth strongest.”

Franky raises an eyebrow, “So who's the first?”

Everlet loses his grin and shakes his head, “That, lad, is information that could doom us all.”

“Uh-huh.” Franky rolls his eyes.

The [Storm Captain] sees the eyeroll and shakes his head. “Maybe I’ll tell you later, when we’re far away from the sea. For now, let's focus on the mission. Look, he’s dispersing his fleet across the shores.

The [Hero] scratches the side of his head, “Huh, you're right.”

“Of course I’m right. Ferrum is a [Pirate Admiral], which means he’s a cocky narcissist that takes risks. If there is a chance he could take my ship and the town without destroying it, then he will. So long as he thinks he’s being sneaky, he won't even fire a shot.”

The two continue watching through a porthole. The Ironside stops outside the harbor while about sixy ships anchor offshore. They release their boats and swarms of [Pirates] row ashore. Thousands stream from the ships and rush to the town.

“Should I-”

“Not Yet,” Everlet points, “An anchor alone isn't going to keep the ships from fleeing. Just wait, let's make sure they don't get any chance.”

Indeed. Though most of the [Pirates] are on their way towards town, skeleton crews are still on board each ship.

“Just a few more minutes.”

They wait, watching the [Pirates] work, doing nothing even as the [Pirates] reach the completely silent town.

“Alright, go ahead.”

______________________________________________________

When the [Pirates] reach the town, the town stays eerily silent. No dogs bark, no [Guards] sound the alarm, no one runs away screaming. The whole town is still as a graveyard. The marauders' bravado starts to wane. They cluster together and light torches.

And still there is nothing. No sound or movement.

“Oy, ma [Dangersense] is goin’ off.” one of the [Pirates] whispers.

“Where?” another asks.

The [Pirate] with his [Dangersense] going off, looks around at the seemingly empty houses. The man gulps.

“Everywhere.”

At his words, from the Tempestas, a ball of light travels into the sky, and explodes with a bang and a vibrant shower of light.

Then, the running and screaming begin.

Windows shatter, doors break as hundreds of Lycans in monstrous forms stream out from hiding places and begin slaughtering the [Pirates]. Over a hundred die from the initial exchange, and many more follow as the howling descends around the town.

Outside the town, Arachne stream towards the beached boats. They web the boats to the rocks and tie up the remaining crew. A [High Roller] rises from a distant canopy. Violent energy fires from its barrel with pinpoint precision and burns through the sails of the anchored ships, blasting apart their ability to escape.

Well, all the ships except for one.

When the violent beam of energy blasts towards the Ironhide, metal coats the sail, deflecting the potent blast.

___________________________________________________________

“Retreat,” Ferrum growls as his ship comes to life to protect itself, “Everyone retreat!”

Another beam blast towards his ship, specifically towards him. The metal plates covering his vessel quickly shift, forming a barrier that absorbs the violet plasma aimed at his body.

“Weigh anchor, set the sails, hard to starboard!” The [Pirate Admiral] commands his own ship.

The Ironhide is a vessel of metal connected to him. So long as he is aboard his ship, then all the metal is at his command.

He stares in the direction of the last attack as his ship glides parallel to shore. A third blast of plasma reduces a third metal shield to slag and then Ferrum pinpoints the individual making short work of his fleet's mobility.

“5 degrees to port,” he yells , “Distance one thousand yards, elevation, 500 feet.”

The [Helmsman] turns the ship, and the [Gunnery Captain] relays the orders to the gun crews. The ship turns slightly and its eight turrets swing to line up a broadside at the distant artillery position. Thirty two large guns take aim.

“FIRE!”

The guns boom and a second later Ferum watches the projectiles explode in the distant canopy through his spyglass. The enemy artillery stands up on eight legs and beats a hasty retreat.

Three seconds later, the explosions’ report startles Ferrum out of his bewilderment and he hears the sounds of battle nearer at hand. He turns to his anchored fleet and watches as humanoid wolves scale webs weaved by bizarre human-spider creatures from the captured boats onto his ships. His crews fight back desperately against the monsters.

He also feels several of the monsters attach and climb the hull of his own vessel as well.

“Get off! [Iron Spike]!” he roars. With a wave of his hand, every creature attempting to climb aboard his ship is impaled and thrown off his vessel.

“[Helmsman], Get us out of here,” he orders, but gets no answer.

“[Helmsman], I said get us ou-,” he turns to see a woman with glowing red eyes holding the unconscious body of his [Helmsman] by the throat.

Like a sack of potatoes, she drops him and gives Ferrum a toothy smile.

“If you surrender, I may choose to spare your life.” she says cooly.

“What the fuck are you?” he asks.

“Me? I am the [Lady] Ambrosia, and we are commandeering your fleet for our purposes. Please don’t surrender,” The woman flaps a pair of blood wings on her back, “I would really like a midnight snack.”

“Fuck You.” he replies. Ferrum waves his hand and the metal of the ship morphs as though it were liquid. Ambrosia’s eyes widen as she jumps out of the way of a spike that attempts to penetrate her. She then dodges again as another spike tries to impale her, and then a third time.

Then, a dozen spikes impale her from all directions. Her blood puddles on the warped deck. Ferrum heaves to sigh just when her body crumbles and she reforms from her blood.

The vampire takes to the air and, somewhat safe, she pauses a moment to [Analyze] him.

Ferrum Steelship

Level 180 [Pirate Admiral]

Level 217 [Ironheart Ferromancer]

Ferrum watches her grow solemn as she learns his classes. A [Ferromancer] can control metal, but the Iron addition to the class allows for a specialization that greatly improves his control, strength, and manipulation with Iron. The Heart aspect improves Ferrum’s control to a point where the cost to manipulate Iron to which he is connected is negligible.

This time Ferrum smiles, “Do you think you can get away that easily? Guess again.”

The superstructure of the ship twists to point a cannon at Ambrosia. It fires and the metal projectile expands into a massive chained net.

Ambrosia's body turns into a mist that disappears and reappears next to Ferrum, a crimson scythe in hand.

She swings for his neck, only for her scythe to be halted by several inches of iron.

Smiling, Ambrosia hops away from a spike and once again takes to the sky.

“I am the captain of this ship, and so long as I stand here, there is nothing that can stop me.”

“Mistress!” a massive, black furred, werewolf climbs onto the deck of the ship. Its fur is dyed red from several open holed wounds that quickly knit themselves together in front of Ferrum’s eyes.

Garn bares his fangs at Ferrum, unamused by the metal spikes.

“Garn, be careful, this entire ship is a weapon. He has full control over metal.”

“So, the town of Lieking had been invaded by monsters.” Ferrum exclaims as he stares at the massive, muscular form of Garn.

“Surrender or Die,” Garn warns, which is replied by a snarl from Ferrum.

“No.”

Ferrum spreads his arms and the metal of the ship comes alive as though it were liquid. It flows to the deck like a stream of water, strengthening the thickness of the metal immediately present.

“I believe it is you all that need to surre-”

Ferrum is cut off as a dagger enters his mouth and pierces his brain.

The metal stops moving and the [Pirate Admiral] falls dead to the floor.

Jess kneels down and retrieves her dagger. She wipes off brain matter and blood on the man's clothes before sheathing her weapon and then giving the dumbfounded Garn and frowning Ambrosia a thumbs up.