BENJAMIN Ulr watched as the old man crumpled to the ground. His gaze flickered to the body, noting the absence of any visible wound. Yet blood stained the metallic floorboards of the ship. The crowd around him stiffened, their expressions shifting from confusion to sheer horror.
Then, amidst the tense silence, a pirate dropped with a sickening thud. His head was grotesquely caved in, blood pouring from the gaping wound as bits of brain matter splattered across the deck.
He glanced at the old man, as he began to understand what had happened. From the energy signatures around the man he could easily assess that the old man wasn't a Cryptid but his staff was a named weapon so it was at least an Epic grade. That was exactly why he attacked the old man first because he wasn't sure what to expect from him, he needed to ascertain how much power he actually had.
Now he can actually make a rough sketch of his abilities. The staff seems to possess the ability to distribute cryptological energy in the form of a blast but its main abilities seem to be attached to fate. When he bashed his head, the staff glowed subtly and it seemed that was the moment it transferred the fate of the man's death to another.
He still wondered how the staff had chosen its candidate and he was pleased the man was out cold now because if the staff was choosing its victim randomly, he might get hit by his own attack. He smiled and turned to the rest of the crowd.
They all stood their ground, glancing at him with clenched fists and brandished weapons.
"Tell me," Benjamin said, his voice calm but heavy with authority, as he dropped his ax. He rolled his shoulders, preparing for the fight. "Why do you think it's wise to attack an emissary of the Leviathan? Mutiny? Treason?"
As he spoke, he glanced at all of them with a relaxed gaze. From their energy signatures, he realized none of them were Cryptids. Although some of them appeared a bit weird and unnatural, they were mostly normal human beings. He stopped assimilating his potion and decided to take them on as a normal human being.
The reason he did this was that he wasn't really high on potion reserves. The little he was assimilating now was the remainder from his sparring session with the commander the other night. He needed to conserve his potion as much as possible. If these pirates were stupid enough to attack, it meant one of two things: either they were incredibly foolish, or they actually had a chance to win and escape. And if there was anything he'd learned over his years of roaming the seas, it was never to underestimate an opponent.
"Sleeping giants," he muttered under his breath as he got into a stance. He could hear the sounds of soldiers working on the deck of the Retribution, trying to land a bridge on the ship to reinforce them.
He turned swiftly as he heard footsteps rushing toward him—one of the crew had finally made the first move. The pirate leapt forward with a sword, aiming to run Benjamin through. The red-haired man, however, twisted out of the way, evading the blow by the smallest margin.
Benjamin's next attacker came almost immediately, aiming to slice his head off, but he ducked just in time, moving away from the center. He knew that if they came at him from all directions, his chances would be slimmer.
Another rushed forward with a hammer and swung it forward. Benjamin ducked backward as the metal head of the hammer swept swiftly past his face. He then lunged forward, making the first introduction of his fist. His abnormally large hand smashed into the face of his attacker. The crack of impact echoed in the air as blood sprayed everywhere. The man dropped his hammer and fell limp to the ground.
They all paused, fear gripping their hearts.
"But you said he stopped assimilating his potion," one of them said, turning to a man with an eyeball fixed onto his palm, a red mist crackling around him.
"He has. That's just his raw strength," the man replied in an horrific tone.
Benjamin smiled as he saw them gaze at him in a new light. The momentary pause had, however, given the Retribution enough time to connect a bridge to the ship. He smiled as marines began to rush forward, but as the first one made it to the edge, a transparent force field rose from beneath, splitting the soldier in half as the barrier enveloped the entire ship in a dome. Around the force field crackled a swirling red mist.
Benjamin sighed as he realized they were on an Epic-grade ship.
"That is the might of the Warden," one of them said with a smug grin. "And don't think any help will come. Teleportation, tricks, all of that is useless against the barrier. You and your crew are trapped in here with us." The man's laughter echoed across the ship.
Benjamin scoffed. "You think we're trapped?" he smiled coldly. "I'll make you realize your mistake. None of you will leave here alive." He dashed forward.
The move caught his attacker off guard. Although Benjamin hadn't moved as fast as when he'd blinked through the distance to reach the old man, none of them expected him to attack first. He drove two punches into the face of his closest opponent, who staggered back, dropping the dagger in his hand. Benjamin's clawed fist followed, tearing off the man's throat.
Blood gushed from the gaping wound, but Benjamin didn't pause. He was on to his next target. This one raised his sword, but too slowly. Benjamin caught his wrist mid-air, twisting it until a sickening crack echoed as his arm broke. He drove his forehead into the man's face, making him lose the grip on his sword.
Benjamin caught it mid-fall, plunging it into the man's stomach. Another assailant rushed at him, screaming in rage; likely driven by some emotional imbalance. A mistake. His last mistake. The red-haired warrior sidestepped his wild strike and caught him by the neck. Swinging him with ease, Benjamin threw him into the path of a crew member's sword meant for him. The man gasped as the blade buried itself in his gut.
The rest of the crew were either caught off guard or simply overwhelmed by Benjamin's extraordinary strength and speed. Soon enough, all but one of them lay dead. The entire deck was awash in blood. Benjamin's face and fists were smeared with traces of it, but none of it was his own.
The last man standing, the one with the eye on his palm, bolted below deck. Benjamin, assimilating a bit of his potion, caught up with him in two bounds and snapped his neck.
Panting, he stood among the bodies littering the deck. The old man Benjamin had knocked out earlier began to stir. Benjamin's eyes fixed on him as he stood up. The old man, jerking in shock, rolled to his knees and tried to reach for his staff. But seeing Benjamin advancing, he panicked and stumbled backwards, tumbling down the stairs leading below deck.
He crashed into someone, who caught him. "Gavin, what the hell!" the person exclaimed. The old man turned to see it was the first mate of their ship.
"Aziz, there's a monster on board," he said, fear written across his face.
Aziz looked up to see a giant man descending the staircase, each stride echoing across the ship. Aziz felt a wave of fear grip him.