A total of thirty-seven survivors were pulled from the frigate, with barely half of them capable of walking.
For a massive ship to hold so few living souls, it was a true miracle they ever managed to make it to shore. Frigates required crews of hundreds to function, doubly so for one so damaged. Marchosias’s aid in tugging the vessel was likely the only thing that kept it afloat, while the priest barely held the dying ship together with impromptu repairs long enough for it to reach safe harbours.
Most of the survivors were severely sleep-deprived. In between their frantic efforts to sail the ship, the priests had been tending to the wounded and dying among their ranks. The living numbered mere dozens, while the dead found in the vessel were in the hundreds. Many appeared to have died painful deaths on their journey, even as the healers of the Church desperately tried to keep them alive and mend their afflictions as best they could.
The imperial soldiers tended to the deceased with their usual solemnity. A hundred and fifteen more bodies were burned, their corpses wrapped in pus-filled bandages. The work necessitated fresh Blessings from the priests and protective equipment from the dwarves, for what killed the previous crew was a virulent virus crafted by Lord Oleander himself, delivered via plague cannons and disease-filled mortar shells as the frigate tried to escape.
Then came the daunting task of restoring the vessel to working order. Kalisa inspected the ship herself and deemed it possible to be cleansed. The flesh-eater virus on board was an inferior strain to the malignant variants she and Eri had worked on before. Sterlisation would take time, especially on a frigate-sized ship, but it could be done.
The dwarves gave similar positive reports. Though most felt more comfortable burning the plagued ship down to ash instead, they begrudgingly agreed to repairing the vessel to an adequate fighting condition, even going so far as to promise it would be done in time to sail with the newly-repaired galleon in two weeks — a miracle considering their already strained manpower and resources.
Having an additional frigate to the war fleet was uplifting news, especially now that the expedition had confirmation of the Coalition’s Church forces' demise and the combined might of three pirate fleets, led under the personal flagships of Lord Drake and Oleander, hunting the inner seas.
None of this mattered to Eri, however. The youth was in no state to appreciate the strength of their war fleet in two weeks, not when he needed to set sail for the inner seas right away.
“We cannot wait two weeks. We need to go now,” Eri insisted frantically. “Every day, every hour, we waste here reduces the odds of us finding any survivors from the Church!”
The war council took place on the beach, with an impromptu table and an open tent cover set up as the morning sun began to rise. The reason why the meeting was taking place in the open shores rather than the fort’s war room was apparent.
Marchosias was far too big to squeeze into a room.
“The great King speaks true! Listen to your leader!” the draconic demon hissed, its voice still weak from its wounds. “The grand matriarch may still live, but we must go to her aid immediately! Her captivity within the petrid ghoul already stretches. We cannot wait any longer!”
“So… I guess we are just going to accept a demon on the war council now?” Bori weakly whispered.
“Technically, we have been doing that already,” Julie countered, gesturing slightly to the giant crystal avian standing a short distance away, peering down on them. “And maybe even before that, considering that Eri is, well… Not sure what he is yet...”
“That demons are calling him King,” Alvine muttered. “I would say ‘I told you so’, but it just doesn’t feel all that satisfying at the moment.”
The trio’s whispering went unnoticed. The imperial lieutenant’s enraged shouting drowned out all other murmurs.
“I don’t know what thoughts go in that demon head of yours, but that boy is not our leader,” Kain snapped. The man was still holding an icy vulnerary salve to his half-healed jaw — courtesy of Eri’s panicked punch earlier. “I hold doubts he can be even considered an ally at this point!”
Beside the tent, the giant, crystal-feathered form of Andrealphus chuckled. “You still hold a grudge for the wound my master gave you? How pitiful. As a gesture of good faith, I am willing to align that jaw of yours for free. Or better yet, reinforce it to prevent further dislocation. I would recommend the latter; You seem the punchable sort.”
“I don’t need anything from you, hellspawn,” Kain hissed. “And my jaw is not the issue here! The boy has been keeping demon Archons as pets! This cannot be ignored!”
“We have bigger problems!” Eri yelled. “Just forget about them and focus on the task! We need to get everyone moving to the inner seas as soon as we can! Otherwise—”
“We do not have to listen to you. Not anymore,” Kain coldly cut him off. “In fact, I’m having a hard time thinking of a reason why we shouldn’t kill you right now! I have every west-facing cannon on the fort targeting your demons, traitor. If they so much as twitch in our direction—”
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“Then your men would just blow themselves up,” the dwarven chief, Kaz, interrupted. “I had my boys mess up the west wall guns early when we were ‘maintaining’ it after that debacle you made. They won’t fire properly anymore. Knew you would pull this shit, so the Paragon there saw fit for us to take precautions before this meeting.”
Kain glared at Eri, who simply faced back unflinchingly. Upon realising the threat was true, the lieutenant spat a curse before turning to Kaz. “Master Dwarf, you would betray us over these demons? What of the oaths made between dwarves and humans to always stand together against Hell? You sabotage us to protect Archons! This is a disgrace to all that your ancestors fought for!”
“Hm, you aren’t wrong there,” Kaz shrugged, a hand idly placed on the rune hammer on his belt. “Siding with demons over humans is a first for my clan, and a bitter pill to swallow. But our Paragon’s continued trust in us is far more important than whatever pissant pact made a few thousand years ago when the Dwarven Empire reigned supreme. We need him far more than we need you. What’s a broken oath or two to a species that faces extinction, eh?”
“This goes far beyond just a broken oath,” Kain shot back. “What you did is an insult to your kind!”
“I would say blowing up our Paragon with our modified cannons is a greater insult,” Kaz snorted. “Don’t count on our aid if you decide to threaten him again. In case you forget, you still need us.”
Kain’s expression was one of anger and disbelief. “How can you trust him? Do you not see how he commands the Archons?! He is clearly—”
“Enough, Kain,” Amber sighed, pulling her lieutenant back by the shoulder. “Leave it be. This isn’t the weirdest thing we have seen in our lives. Not by a long shot.”
“Aiding demons goes against everything the imperial military stands for,” Kain tried. “Commander, we can’t just—”
“If this turns into a fight or betrayal, I’ll kill them. The Archons, the expedition, the dwarves… Anyone on Eri’s side will be purged under the crime of heresy,” Amber calmly said. Her words sent a chill down Eri’s spine. There was no doubt in her mind that she could slaughter them all. “But that sort of thing will leave us in far bigger shit than the cesspool we are swimming in right now. No matter what lines are crossed, we need each other. A fight between us won’t end well, so give it a fucking rest, Lieutenant.”
Kain looked dissatisfied with the answer. Amber sighed.
“Look. If this turns out to be some sort of traitorous act, and not — I believe — to be the misguided outcome of some piss-poor decision-making by our youthful ‘ally’ here,” Amber gestured to Eri. “Then I’ll take responsibility and put them down. For the moment, I’m asking you not to do anything drastic until we hear them out.”
Kain grimaced. For a moment, the urge to speak out again warred on his expression, but ultimately, the lieutenant swallowed his bitterness and nodded his head. “Very well, but only because it’s you who gave the order. The men will follow you.”
“For now, anyway,” Amber murmured, pulling out her bone pipe. She burnt a few leaves and took a deep puff before tiredly looking at Eri. “Right, now then. As a gesture of trust, I’ll be putting aside the issue of demons until we talk about this new frantic worry of yours. I’m guessing the reason why you are now so enthused about heading to the inner seas is because of this ‘matron’ of yours?”
“Yes! She’s… She’s very important to me,” Eri hesitantly said.
Amber nodded. “And in order to save this one ‘very important’ person to you, you are asking me to order hundreds of men here to go in unprepared against the largest pirate fleet assembled in the last century for what’s basically a very selfish and suicidal mission?”
“But it’s not just for saving Elen!” Eri protested. “The— The other Church members! We could save them, too! They need our help!”
“Putting aside the fact they are almost certainly dead or zombified by dear old Oleander already, saving a few captive members of the clergy does not justify throwing our limited forces at the combined corsair fleet,” Amber stated bluntly. “It was already risky before, when we didn’t even know if the Church was still fighting. Now that we know for certain of their annihilation, there’s even less reason for us to engage the massive pirate forces gathered there.”
“You are suggesting we do not help?” Eri asked through gritted teeth.
“You are letting your emotions blind you,” Amber calmly said. “We discussed this already. You even agreed to the rationale. Our expedition concluded that the Church was not worth saving before. They are even less worth saving now. The fact that someone you care for might still be alive in enemy captivity does not change the equation. If we fight them like this, understrength and undermanned, we will all die for nothing.”
Eri tried to find another reason. Anything at all that could support an assault on Lord Oleander’s flagship.
There was none. Even in his panic and fright, the cold, logical part of Eri’s mind already concluded the outcome of a direct engagement.
Amber was correct. The expedition would simply lose without achieving anything.
“Then what do you suggest?” Dulcina asked, her voice soft and uneasy. The rest — Joarris, his group, even the twins — were silent, watching him with conflicted expression as uncharacteristic fear broke past Eri’s usual calm.
“We are better off going to support the Independents,” Amber said. “Those mercenaries are our last remaining ally in the West. With both the Noble and Church factions destroyed and the Imperial Navy crippled, the coalition is one more failure away from total collapse. Once repairs and refits are done in two weeks, we set sail with all our forces and regroup with the Doomhowlers. If we manage to help them take over that shipyard-dreadnought quickly enough, we stand a good chance of turning this disaster around.”
“By then, any hope of rescuing the Church captives will be long lost,” Joarris tried.
“Then so be it,” Amber shrugged. “There’s no point. We don’t have the power to save them. And once again, we don’t even know if they’re still alive. Putting all that aside, there is zero tactical purpose to support that action, because risking what few remaining men and assets we have to save a handful of lives is not rational.”
No one argued against that. In the first place, no one disagreed that Amber’s words were sound.
Not even Eri could find the words to convince himself otherwise.
Nonetheless… “Then I will go alone,” he said hollowly.
Reason and logic had nothing to do with his decision. From the start, there was only one option for him.
Eri would never accept a world where he did not do everything in his power to save Elen.

