Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king Chapter 306: Opportunity

Blake stepped out of his quarters, leaving behind both Halima and the witch. The door creaked shut behind him, sealing them inside as he strode up toward the deck. The salty wind hit his face the mont he erged, cool and bracing, carrying the sharp tang of the sea. For a mont, he closed his eyes, letting the breeze push through his hair.

King , he could beco one.

The rhythmic creak of the ship's timbers and the sound of boots moving on deck greeted him as he adjusted his cloak. His first instinct was to scan the horizon. Blake's eyes swept the expanse of water, the sun's glare bouncing off the waves in flashes of white light. His gaze lingered on every ripple, every shadow on the horizon. No ships lood in the distance, no sails ghosted across the waves. The surrounding waters were empty save for his own fleet, their vessels circling with predatory precision.

Satisfied, he shifted his attention to the ship flying the white flag. It cut through the waves with deliberate slowness, its sail furled just enough to signify caution, not arrogance. The hull looked weathered but sturdy, its crew visible on the deck—a cluster of figures standing with their hands at their sides, clearly unard.

Blake leaned against the railing, his eyes narrowing as he studied the approaching ship. He said nothing, letting the sight of it sink in as his thoughts churned. A white flag ant parlay, and given how his fleet outnumbered the lone ship, he thought that there was no sign of treachery,

As the distance between the two ships shrank, Blake adjusted his belt, his fingers brushing the handle of his axe. Whatever was coming, he intended to be ready.

Wooden planks groaned under the weight as they were lowered between Blake's ship and the vessel flying the white flag. The salty wind caught the loose edges of the fabric, and the gentle sway of the sea gave the precarious bridge an unsettling wobble. Five n crossed over, their boots thudding on the timber as they stepped aboard Blake's deck. His crew, ard and watchful, gave the newcors a wide berth but kept their hands close to weapons, their eyes narrowing with suspicion.

At the head of the group stood a man Blake recognized imdiately: Torvitz. The sharp angles of his face were still as rugged as Blake rembered. Torvitz's leather armor was scuffed and worn, but his stance was proud, confident. His piercing eyes swept across the deck before locking onto Blake's, a flicker of recognition passing between them.

Blake's eyes lingered on Torvitz, the na and face stirring mories of the past. Loyalty in the Confederation was a fluid thing, bound not by blood or oaths but by the currents of opportunity and shared survival. Even now, the ships that followed Blake bore his banner by choice, not obligation. It was an unspoken agreent: as long as his leadership brought success, wealth, and the promise of victory, the n would remain.

And as long as it was not done during a raid or a military campaign, such a bond could easily be broken without consequence, a man was king of his own ship and he could choose where he could said wherever he wanted to.

Torvitz was a perfect example of that precarious structure. Years ago, after the crushing defeat at Rock Bottom and the end of the war , he had left Blake's father's service to forge his own path, given that a 13 year old boy had assud the rein of the household.

Desertion, the landers might call it , but in the Confederation, where independence was prized above all, no man could truly be said to desert when no unbreakable bond tied him. Like Blake's current followers, Torvitz's allegiance had been conditional, and when the conditions had failed, he had done what any practical seafarer would—he had walked away.

n followed leaders, not out of fealty, but because the leaders provided what they needed—protection, riches, and a semblance of order in the chaos of the seas. Blake himself owed his fleet's loyalty not to his na or heritage, but to his ability to deliver.

"I recognized that flag the mont I laid eyes on it," Torvigz began, his voice calm but resonant with a hint of reverence. "It is an honor to see the patriarch of House Elio once again."

Blake, standing tall with the wind catching his coat, regarded Torvitz with an impassive expression. "Eighteen years," he mused, his voice low and reflective. "I was fourteen when I set out on my own. A boy aboard a ship that barely held its sails." His eyes narrowed as he studied the man before him, a mixture of nostalgia and curiosity flickering across his features.

Torvitz bent slightly at the waist in a respectful bow. "I hope that decision did not displease you, my lord. I only sought to carve my own way as any man should "

Blake's lips curved into a faint smile, his deanor softening just enough to convey understanding. "It is right to do so. One would be a fool to take it against a man for seeking his own course.You did nothing wrong" He waved a hand as though brushing away any notion of offense. "But tell , Torvitz, why the parlay? What matter urged you to et?"

Torvitz straightened, his expression growing somber. He nodded, gathering his thoughts. "I believe I have co across sothing that may interest you . During one of our recent raids along the coast, we ca upon information—valuable, and troubling. The Imperials are amassing a fleet at Daiectum."

Blake's eyes widened slightly, the weight of the revelation striking him. He stepped forward, his boots hitting the planks with purpose. "So," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous edge. "The Imperials have decided to rise from their slumber. I knew it was only a matter of ti before they sought to retaliate.I am actually saddened that they took so long..."

A smile began to form on his face, sharp and predatory, his features alight with a grim anticipation. "Good," he said, his tone carrying a dangerous glee. "Let them co. I've waited long enough for this—our chance to avenge the loss at Rock Bottom.However what I cannot understand is why not take this news to the Call? Such information ought to be shared among all the Confederation's captains, you were in for a reward in , I believe."

Torvitz inclined his head, a flicker of sothing akin to guilt crossing his features before he composed himself. "That was my first thought, my lord," he admitted. "But fate had other designs. By chance, we crossed paths with your fleet, and it reminded of deeds I had only heard of in tales.

The waves bring what the Sea God wishes.'' Torvitz chanted

''The waves bring what the Sea God wishes'' Blake chanted back''

''Your na—your deeds—have reached the ears of every free man along the seas." He bowed deeply, his long blonde hair cascading forward as he spoke with solemnity. "I must confess, I feel a fool for not having recognized such bravery and greatness years ago. I was blind then, young and proud, thinking I could build a legacy on my own."

Rising from his bow, Torvitz's eyes t Blake's, his gaze steady and earnest. "I have wanted to approach you for years, my lord. To offer my loyalty once more. But I knew a man like you deserved a worthy gesture. I searched for a gift befitting your stature, and now, I believe I've found it."

With a sweep of his hand toward the sea, as though presenting not just the information but himself as an offering, Torvitz continued. "I bring you this knowledge, my lord, as both my gift and my apology. I would be honored to take your flag once again, to sail under your na and your cause. Let this mont mark the day I return to where I should have been all along." His voice carried the conviction of a man who had long sought redemption, his posture resolute as he awaited Blake's judgnt.

A rare smile broke across Blake's face, his sharp features softening for a fleeting mont as the news sank in. The Imperials were ready to fight back—it was an inevitability, but one he welcod with open arms. The prospect of battle ignited a fire in him, the chance to avenge Rock Bottom finally within reach. And as if that weren't enough, Torvitz—once a steadfast follower of his father—now sought to return to their banner, he was a good lieutenant and knew how to operate a ship, so he had no reason to refuse.

Blake stepped forward, his boots thudding against the deck. "You were always a leal man to my father, Torvitz. He spoke highly of your service in the old days." He paused, his smile growing faintly sharper. "It pleases to no end that you now wish to share the sea with as you did with him."

He extended his hand, his palm open, his gesture carrying both authority and a asure of camaraderie. Torvitz didn't hesitate. He knelt slightly, taking Blake's hand with a reverence born of tradition and pressing it against his forehead, his blonde hair brushing Blake's calloused fingers.

When Torvitz rose, he bowed low, his voice filled with conviction. "Thank you, my lord, for this opportunity. I will not fail you, as I did not fail your father."

Blake regarded him with a nod, the faintest glimr of approval in his sharp eyes.