The Abyss rocked gently in the still waters, the low creak of wood and the distant call of seabirds echoing through the air. The battle was over, and the crew moved efficiently across the deck, restocking the ship's hold with the spoils from La Fortune. The night had been long, but the victory was hard-earned. Now came the aftermath—decisions that could shape their future, both on the ship and in Jacob's soul.
Jacob walked toward the helm, his eyes scanning the crew. The freed slaves, some of them children, stood awkwardly near the hatch leading below deck. Their eyes held a mix of relief and fear as they adjusted to the newfound freedom. But for some, this was not freedom—it was an unknown. The life ahead of them, still too uncertain to comprehend.
"Garrett!" Jacob called, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of work. The First Mate appeared at his side, wiping the sweat and grime from his brow.
"Aye, Captain?" Garrett responded, his tone sharp, though he still bore the weariness of battle.
Jacob nodded toward the freed slaves. "Take them to my old quarters. Give them a safe space, somewhere they can rest. And give them a portion of the rations we took from La Fortune. I want them looked after until they decide what they want to do."
Garrett gave a quick nod. "Aye. And those who don't want to stay?"
Jacob's gaze hardened. "They'll be dropped off at the next port. They've earned that much. But those who want to join, they'll pull their weight like everyone else."
Garrett turned and barked orders to the crew, guiding the freed slaves down below deck, while Jacob remained at the helm, his thoughts already moving to the next steps. The plunder was being secured, but the ship itself needed care. He couldn't afford to let things fall apart now.
Renard, the lead gunner, approached Jacob next. "Captain," he began, his voice as calm and measured as always, "we've started replacing the damaged cannons with the long nines from La Fortune's escort. We'll have better range in the next fight."
Jacob nodded, pleased with the quick action. "Good. Keep your crew sharp. I don't want us caught off guard."
Renard gave a small nod and walked back to oversee the work. Jacob felt a sense of satisfaction at the efficiency of his crew, but his mind still lingered on the uncertainty ahead. There was more to this battle than just the spoils. There was something far deeper at play, something that had taken root within him.
Later, after ensuring the crew was set to their tasks and the freed slaves had a place to rest, Jacob returned to his quarters. The weight of the captain's logs from La Fortune sat on his desk like a silent accusation. He sank into the chair, running a hand through his dark hair, which was still damp with saltwater and sweat.
The quarters, though familiar, felt different now—heavier with the weight of recent events and the growing expectations he placed on himself. The room was lined with dark, polished wood that gleamed faintly under the dim lantern light. The same heavy oak desk where Jacob had often planned raids or studied maps now held not just charts and navigation tools, but the spoils and burdens of leadership. A stack of maps and logs from La Fortune crowded the surface, and the scent of salt and ink filled the room.
The logs were the key to understanding where La Fortune had been and where it was headed—information that could prove invaluable for future raids.
The entries were meticulously recorded, detailing the ship's cargo, ports of call, and dealings with various merchants. But one section stood out—a notation about a rendezvous point off the coast of a small island where merchant convoys often exchanged goods. Jacob recognized the name from his maps, a remote spot tucked away from the main shipping routes—perfect for intercepting a trade fleet without attracting unwanted attention.
But there was more. A scribbled margin note mentioned an alliance between La Fortune's captain and a powerful merchant consortium, spanning across the Caribbean and into the East Indies. The names of ports, merchants, and even military contacts appeared, revealing a web of illegal trade and corruption.
Jacob leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. This was the advantage he had been waiting for—a clear line to the heart of a powerful trade network. It wasn't just about stealing cargo anymore. This was about control, about power.
His thoughts were interrupted by the system's cold voice, the familiar detachment cutting through his focus.
[System Update: Necromantic Powers—Level 4 Achieved. Minor undead command unlocked. Current soul count: 99/150.]
Jacob's breath caught for a moment. He had absorbed 65 souls from the battle, pushing his total to 99. The system had been quietly integrating the souls of those he killed or influenced during the fight—those who had died either by his hand or through the power he unleashed in the chaos.
"System," Jacob said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper in the silent cabin, "what is my current level, and what abilities do I now possess?"
[Current level: 4. You have unlocked the ability to command minor undead. However, this ability remains locked until you find an artifact capable of summoning or commanding such undead. You require such an artifact to unlock further abilities.]
Jacob exhaled slowly. He had felt the weight of those souls pressing into him during the battle, each life lost feeding the darkness inside him. The power was growing, but so was the danger. He was no longer simply wielding curses or manipulating fate—he was on the cusp of commanding the dead themselves, yet that power remained out of reach without the artifact.
"Artifacts..." Jacob muttered to himself, remembering the system's earlier hints. If he could find one, it could unlock even more powerful abilities. But for now, he would have to rely on the souls he gathered and the dark magic within him.
"System," Jacob asked, his voice steady, "how does the artifact absorption work? Can I create new powers without one?"
[You cannot unlock new abilities without an artifact. Artifacts of necromantic origin allow you to unlock and control specific powers related to their nature. You will need to find and absorb an artifact capable of summoning or commanding minor undead to use this ability.]
Jacob clenched his jaw. He had suspected as much. The artifacts would be critical, and no doubt they would be rare. But if the consortium La Fortune's captain had dealt with was involved in powerful trade, there might be an artifact hidden within their network.
He stood, his mind heavy with the weight of the new information. The course was clear now. Their next move would be to refit the ship, offload the freed slaves, make necessary repairs, and plan to intercept the merchant convoy at the rendezvous point. If luck was with them, they might find more than just treasure—including a coveted artifact.
The next morning, Jacob stood on the quarterdeck, watching as the crew finished loading the last of the supplies. The sun barely crested the horizon, casting long shadows across the deck. Garrett approached, his face worn but resolute.
"Everything's in place, Captain," Garrett reported. "The freed slaves have been settled. Some want to stay, others will wait for the next port."
Jacob nodded. "Make sure they're taken care of until then. No one leaves hungry."
Garrett gave a firm nod, but before he could turn away, Jacob spoke again. "We've got our next target," he said, his voice low but determined. "There's a merchant convoy coming from the East Indies. They're heading to a small island to trade cargo. We're going to intercept it after we make port and handle repairs."
Garrett raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. "Aye, Captain. We'll be ready."
As Garrett moved to relay the orders to the crew, Jacob stood alone at the helm, staring out over the horizon. The battle had been just one step. There was more to come, and with each soul absorbed, with each enemy crushed beneath his heel, he knew he was growing stronger.
But the darkness within him—the power of the necromantic curses—was also growing. And Jacob was starting to wonder how much longer he could hold it all together.
For now, he would focus on the mission. There was a convoy to intercept, artifacts to find, and a future to secure.
But deep down, Jacob knew that with every soul he took, he was inching closer to a line that could never be uncrossed.
[Soul count: 99. Next level: 150 souls required. Minor undead command locked until an artifact is found.]