Ser Robert's decision made Anoon understand his own flaws in the argument. And went on to highlight that the man did not trump his commander at everything.
The duo were more of a symbiotic pair.
Hence becoming convinced of the latter's reason, Anoon then quickly nodded in accordance, "You are right. This is indeed our limit! We have done all we can" before quickly turning to propose, "Let me order the men to retreat. We will tell the Heeat soldiers that we are full and we will come back for them on the second trip."
"...." To this, Ser Robert produced a quick, curt nod.
However just because Ser Robert and his men decided to do this, did not mean the Heeat soldiers were going to swallow it just like that.
They naturally protested,
"What! You are leaving us! There are still more of our brothers left!" Those on the decks screamed in anger and horror, pointing to those still stuck at the top to emphasize their words.
While the Margraves officers tried to placate them as best as they could, "We are not leaving them! We will be back! You heard the order. We are too full!"
But no matter how much they relayed their difficulties by urging them to look at their surroundings and the state of encumberment, the Heeat soldiers simply turned a deaf ear.
They cared for only one thing and were adamant about getting it- enough space had to be made for their brethren no matter what.
It was just like General Achillas had ordered, "I don't care how I want all my men rescued."
So after a while of frustrated talks and heated screams, which got no one anywhere, the Margraves decided to ditch these men's demands and started to set sail on their own,
This caused another fit of row within the ranks, as sighting the bridge suddenly moving away from them, the Heeat soldiers shouted in utmost alarm,
"Leaving! They are leaving without our brothers! Stop it! Stop them at once!"
Before one hot blooded, high ranking commander suddenly let out this immense shout,
"Swords! Unsheath your swords, men! Take over the ships! I repeat… Take over the ships! That is the only to save our brothers."
Yes, the Heeat soldiers out of the blue, decided they were going to forcefully turn the warship around.
And there was only one way to do that.
*Clang*, *Clang*, *Clang*
Thus, as soon as this order diffused into the ears of the nearby men, five hundred swords across all four ships were simultaneously unsheathed as these enraged men turned determined to get their way, even if it meant through blood.
It really went to show how dangerous a group of unruly soldiers could be, needing only the lightest spark to ignite the gunpowder filled air around them.
Boom!
Thus the already confrontational atmosphere turned blazing hot and in the blink of an eye, a full fledged battle blossomed on the decks of the four ships.
This was something that initially caught the unprepared Margraves completely by surprise and so facing the these of theses flurry of silvery short swords, they screamed in alarm,
"What are you doing? Thi… argh!"
"This is rebellion! Treachery! Ughhh!"
"Enemy attack! The bastards are attacking us!"
"*Clang*! Fight back! Brothers! Get in position and… *clang* and fight back!"
"Fucking pigs! Have you gone insane? We told you we are going to come back for them! We are not abandoning anyone."
"That's right! There is no space! Can't you see? What are we to do?"
"Stop this madness! We are supposed to be allies! "
Towards all these, be it swears, cries for help, or admonishment, the Heeat soldiers only sneered, mocked or hummed arrogantly.
"The fact that there is no space is your fault. The General told you to make more… you could not. So die! Let our brothers on!"
It was clear only one side considered the other as allies.
Thus the attacking side proved to be brutal butchers in their opening few turns, hacking and slashing their way through to produce quite the macabre sight.
Taken by complete surprise, quite a few Margraves troops perished, with many masking a look of utter confusion even at the moment of their demise, still unable to understand why they had been targetted. As such bloody corpses thus soon began to stain the decks or were even simply thrown overboard to make space.
However such confusion only lasted a small while.
The Margraves here too were experienced men, and facing this unprovoked attack, they soon regrouped, and the tides soon turned against the Heeat soldiers.
Mainly because the numbers disadvantage proved too great a hurdle.
The Margraves outnumbered them almost two to one, and with their short swords and no shields, the Heeat soldiers found the enemy counterattack to be swift and very deadly.
The extremely tight spaces made dodging or moving around an almost impossibility and as the chaos continued to develop, the decks of the four ships soon became littered with the blood of both sides, mingling with one another to coat nearly the entirety of the decks in this macabre rusty fluid.
The casualties produced in this exchange were horrendous for both sides, unimaginably higher than anything that would be expected from such a skirmish among a few men.
And what was even more alarming was that it seemed in contrast to ordinary times, when escalating casualties would cause the conflict to simmer down as each side's survival instinct took over, this time, the exact opposite was happening.
The Margraves soldiers had had enough of these arrogant pricks, and so they attacked back with all they got, bent on pushing all these scums off the ship once and for all.
While the Heeat soldiers seeing the forces of a mere Earl defy them felt their ego hurt, and when they were about to be thrown to their doom, they responded in kind.
Thus a vicious cycle was created, where both sides even forgot why they were fighting in the first place, but fought only because they felt like it.
Men were stabbed, had their heads bashed in, bellies gutted open like a fish, bodies kicked off the ship, and many more acts too sanguinary to describe, causing the remaining men to become even madder, even crueler, even more, determined to seek revenge for their fallen brethren.
It was not pleasant to be on either side during this.
Ser Robert and Anoon watched violence break out across all the decks with a nearly stupified expression. They never thought the Heeat soldiers would have such gall, such insolence.
It was to the point the latter even turned to glance at Lord Bernard who was seething to himself at a distant corner, and could not help but think the guy might have been right.
They should have left the Heeat soldiers to their devices.
But that ship had already sailed, and so he silently turned his head back to Ser Robert, looking for his advice.
"....." He was only met with a stony, pensive facade, appearing as if the man too was lampooning his choice.
".....Bastards!"
Until this single word was spat out through the man's pearly whites with the anger of a thousand suns. If Ser Robert could, he wanted to roast these ingrates over the fire and then eat them.
"Attack! These attack bastards! Sink them to the bottom of the sea! Achillas be damned!" Before suddenly the man erupted like a full fledged volcano, carrying the venom of a million curses.
The man was absolutely livid over the attack on his own men.
*Splash!*
However before Ser Robert could cover the distance and bring judgment to the rebelling Heeat soldiers, he noticed one of his ships in front begin to dangerously tilt, its unfurled sails by now almost becoming horizontal and touching the water, as the extremely overweight of the vessel finally began to show itself.
The heavy fighting there had shifted onto only one side of the deck and as more and more men gathered on that side, the ship naturally began to tilt more and more, until,
*Slapsh!*
The entire thing tipped over, snapping masts as it hit the water and dumping all the men aboard into it.
Thus the men who were fighting tooth and nail just a few seconds ago suddenly found themselves in the same 'boat'- the same bone chillingly cold boat.
And at that moment, all the acrimony and bitterness were forgotten as instead they sought each other's aid, all equally struggling to survive.
The treacherous temperature, the falling debris from the sinking ship, and the heavy armor wishing to drag them to a watery death all worked together to make such a thing possible.
However unfortunately for the men, this was not the end of their struggles. No, it could be said to be only the prelude.
*Creaaaaak!*, *Cracccckkk*, *Snapppp*, *Booooom*
For it was with this subtle, almost suppressed boom that one of the bridge pillars decided to finally give away, the spontaneity of it catching all those around off guard.
And with that pillar gone, it was like the dominos had fallen and soon the entire thing began to crumble like a wet castle,
*Creak*, *Bang*, *Splash*,
*Creak*, *Bang*, *Splash*,
*Creak*, *Bang*, *Splash*,
Section after section went one after the other…. until it was the Heeat soldiers' turn.
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