The three ships sailed on the sea, gliding in the deep blue water; the sea surface rippling as the ships travelled with their sails up. Their oppressing hulls even making fish avoid the water that was more close to the light of the late day. The scaled forms swimming deeper into the vast ocean. The air felt tense but relaxed with a determined arrogance, as if the just the presence of these three captains could frighten nature itself. Each of the three vessels was well built, with at least two rows of cannons but double masted due to the fact that the pirates valued speed over sheer power. The wood was gleaming in the sun but clouds travelled above, leaving dark pools of shadows over the sea and the deck. It was amazing to see a meeting of such hated pirates but they were planning something much more sinister than just a simple meeting. They were planning the overthrowing of a king.
The seas were what people valued as freedom but they were dangerous and always lethal. If nature didn't kill you then you fall victim to the pirates that roamed the seven seas. And there was one such pirate that you just didn't want to meet unless you were on par with him and that was rare; or you were just daring and an idiot which was far more common. At this current time, the English Devil had managed to conspire most of the world into his hands; overthrowing most of the last generation of pirates. He was a privateer and that honour had given him more freedom than most pirates and occasionally helped his mother country of Britain. Or he just attacked it. No one knew where he had come from before, all they knew that he was British and a tyrant. He could be seen as the unofficial king of the seas and they hated it.
Francis's heels echoed on the deck but it was a sound that this crew were much familiar with, the man had always worn heels that just surprised the men that he could fight so well or just manoeuvre in the shoes. The Frenchman paced around the deck, checking to make sure that his ship was in the best condition; he could not face the Devil of the seas in any other circumstance. He had battled Arthur Kirkland many times before but something felt different this time. This time he would finally rid the world of that man's cursed presence. "Gilbert's information better be right; otherwise he might cause all our deaths. It's not like we are hidden on these seas. Soon we shall split then carry out our attack." Francis laughed, it was menacing and cold; not like the soft laughter that he used to woe ladies, "You hear that Kirkland. I will be your end."
There was a flame signal from the centre ship, which was Carriedo's; he had spurred them into this battle after returning from the capture of the British captain, the rest of them had only agreed readily. He was causing more trouble for them then he had ever had, though he was more of Francis' rival than Beilschmidt's or Carriedo's, no one could dispatch Kirkland by themselves; the bodies of those who had tried only showed undoubting truth. One could battle him by themselves but to escape with their life was rare and had eliminated the weak from the strong. Truthfully, the three pirates all had equally terrifying reputations and weren't ones to be tampered with. But they wanted to take the power which Kirkland had, the riches and power which belonged to the Brit, who sat on his throne and felt gold pour into his hand.
Francis shouted to his crew to change directions, they would begin their assault soon. Carriedo had spotted Kirkland's ship and they were now going to trap him like the rat he was. He felt the ship beneath him follow the current; he had to stay out of sight, or out of the Brits attention for the longest. He had the greatest manpower out of the three and as much as he would like to rush in there and destroy Kirkland, it would be more strategic for him to wait.
Gilbert watched as the Antonio's ship powered forward, he would gain Arthur's attention first and hopefully occupy him the longest. Out of the three of them, he had the most doubts on this attack though he was the one who had found out the Devil's positions and sailing path. Oh well no matter, he would be the one to attack second, he would probably get a pounding to his ship since he would be attacking from the side and he expected the Brit to realise what they were doing by then but then Francis would attack. That's when the real battle would begin, he doubted that this fight would be won on the seas. One of them would have to personally dispatch the English Devil and he was the one with the least problems with the English captain. He had already ordered his crew to change their course, mirroring Francis in arching away from Antonio.
Antonio paced tensely; he would be the one to attack Kirkland from the front; though he was the one who had had decided to go in first, he still couldn't help but think back to their previous encounter and how he had been close to death even though it wasn't that bad, he had been in worse situations before. But the feeling of the rope around his neck was still imprinted on his mind. He felt his neck for a moment, catching himself in the act, he swore, he shouldn't be showing any weakness or the fact that the Devil had made an effect on him. Snapping his hand back down quickly; he put his leather hat on tightly, placing the hand that was at his neck at the hilt of his sword. They were travelling at full speed; he wasn't going to lose anything to Kirkland, nothing anymore. The sea was riling up as well, maybe this was a good day; if there was the storm then all the evidence would disappear, not that there would be any but even if Arthur managed to survive the battle, he wouldn't the sea. The waves lapped at the ship as he headed towards turmoil, seeing the outline of a ship; a ship that he knew very well.
Antonio walked calmly to the wheel; from here he would be leading, ordering for the sails to be dropped, their white canvas letting the sun shine through them. The wind blowing them out and forward, the ships speed increasing greatly with the help of the wind. Their flags down, why beat the advantage that the Brit had no idea how his ship looked like after he destroyed his past vessel. His dark green eyes sparked in hatred and his lust for blood.
Captain Arthur Kirkland sat bored in his cabin, fiddling with a mapping device on his desk, Yao sitting on one of the chairs in unfitting western clothing. The large shirt hanging off his skinny body, though it looked odd, he didn't mind the change of outfit, he preferred the Asian style he was used to but it wasn't like he could complain.
"Bored, Kirkland?" He scoffed, "You shouldn't be, you know what's heading for you."
The captain scowled, "Like you should be saying anything."
"You won't defeat them this time, you do know that aru." Yao dead panned.
Arthur glared at Yao, "I can defeat any bloody person who challenges me, you included."
Yao rolled his eyes, "You sound like Kiku; that arrogance will get you nowhere."
"You're just another old relic; your generation had passed already. Kiku showed the world that."
"He defeated me with your help; if he were not to blackmail me then he would be the one with the scar. You know that as well as I."
Kirkland sneered, "So much for arrogance."
The Chinese pirate raised an eyebrow, "When are you going to put on a defence, are you just going to let them attack you?"
"You're just concerned for your own safety aren't you?" The British pirate was leaning on his arms, as if his impending doom was just another boring, tedious task he had to complete.
"Obviously, it's not like I'd be concerned for the case of your ship and your existence. You're in a world where everyone hates you Arthur; where people scramble to kill you; I wonder how you've lasted so long." Yao smiled brightly, eyes closing.
"I could ask you the very same, actually more so; how the fuck did you survive for so long I'd say you've outlived your time. But I know about my predicament. It's nothing new."
"I just did what I had to do." Yao shrugged, "Though I do have a question." Arthur raised his head to look Yao in the eye. "Hmm?"
"What are your origins? Where do you come from, who were you before you were a pirate."
Arthur chuckled darkly, "Oh how you would like to know."
Yao blinked in silence, wanting an answer. "It is the only thing that most pirates do not know about you, usually there is some piece of information on where someone comes from but you're different, one day you appeared from nowhere then the next you ruled the seas."
The English Devil smirked, "I find that a complement that you can consider that I rule the world, especially from you."
Yao smiled ruefully, "Yes, I did rule it for a while but you never attacked me directly, was I too powerful for you; I wonder of that's why Bonnefoy is so sore towards you. You did attack him first or was that the Red Terror, ah I'm getting old I can't remember who you attacked first aru."
"They both hate me and I hate them and speaking of them, I should get ready. I think I've given them enough time to get here." Arthur stood up, pulling out his sword from a globe he had previously plunged the weapon in.
"You will lose Kirkland; you know that yourself. You will lose this battle." Yao kept sitting as Arthur put on his feathered hat, glancing at the shackle chaining him to the room.
The Englishman slid his sword into its scabbard on his belt, shoving a few guns into the leather as well. "I know I can lose, I know there will be times where I do lose battles but in the end." He smirked at Yao, eyes narrowing, face contorting into something darker and much more sinister, "I will always win the war."
Arthur left his cabin, ignoring the knowing smirk from the Chinese pirate as he locked the door behind him, he sighed. He fell into his restrained thirst for power and battle, ignoring that itching feeling in his head which was saying that he should spend his time escaping. As if he'll escape; this was going to be a thrill.
The English Devil walked onto the deck of his ship, boots clacking, teeth showing in a blood thirsty smirk which could be defined more as a freeze framed growl, hand on the hilt of his sword as he looked ahead to see a certain Spaniard's ship approaching him at full speed. He noted that the flag was down; did they really think he would be fooled by such a basic trick? As if, he looked out on the sea to see another ship on his side, he was guessing that that it belonged to the Black Eagle. The one who had got his positions but it was too late to change the course he had already planned, he just went with it. Honestly when he found out that the Prussian pirate had gotten hold of the information he was tempted to send the British Empire after them and then they would have to face an armada instead of him. But what was the fun in that?
He strutted towards the helm of his ship, he had everything to lose and a bit to win; though it would be worse to face him in a battle where he had nothing to lose, then he would go all out. His hands closed around the wooded handles of the wheel, the sails were already down. He looked out at the sky, high possibility of a storm, no matter though; he turned the ship to face the Red Terror's. So he did get a new one, he was just surprised he had survived the whole ordeal and managed to recover so quickly. Arthur sneered in distaste.
The two ships rushed at each other, waiting for the moment that they would start firing their cannons, that moment creeping ever closer. The tension present in the air, its electricity humming, obvious to the faraway eyes of Francis and Gilbert and in their blood from knowing that they would be in the battle soon enough. Arthur and Antonio inched closer; then the sound of the first cannon ripped through the air. Then came the unleashed explosions, the metal ripping though the wood of the hulls, Arthur expressionless as he saw the Black Eagle approach in the corner of his eye, he spun the ship around, dodging some of the cannons as he released an attack on the albino's ship.
"Fuck, he knew the whole time!" The Prussian swore, putting all his strength in turning his ship to avoid the broad of the attack, getting only minimal damage.
Francis frowned, Gilbert had gotten attacked sooner than was expected, they thought that he'd be more occupied by Carriedo but it didn't seem so. But attacking Beilschmidt had its drawbacks; Kirkland was now sustaining a lot of damage from the continuous attack of Antonio's cannons. What could he possibly gain by suffering so much damage even if it was to attack both ships? The French pirate looked up at the sky; dark monstrous clouds were gathering, closing upon the shreds of blue sky that was still in Francis' sight. The storm would begin soon, he would attack then, he decided. With the current predicament he didn't want to ruin their fun.
Carriedo smirked at the open hull of Arthur's ship, though it was still firing cannons at him. The sparks of explosions were evident even in the smoke that was released from the weapons. But he had much more of an advantage now; he began to bring his ship closer to the Brit's; there were treasures on that ship that Antonio had caught a glimpse of in his imprisonment and he wanted those riches almost as much as he wanted the sweat taste of revenge. He ordered his crew to prepare for boarding.
A British pirate walked briskly around the deck of his ship which was currently under attack by two of his enemies. But that didn't make any difference, he could be facing an armada and personally he wouldn't care, to him there was never a situation where he couldn't win. Even with all the odds against him. His face was stoic and frightfully calm, he knew what was happening; he still shouted orders to his crew to stay strong, to pull through; since this was only the beginning of this scramble for power. His eyes glanced up at the storm, it had started to sprinkle lightly, it wouldn't be long until it attacked the sea in full force, his gaze then passed to the shadow at the other side of his ship. He would wait, what a pathetic coward, he would only enter when the storm had entered full power, even now he could see the shadow increasing in size. But right now he had different priorities, he barked at one of his crew controlling the wheel of the ship; ordering him to take the boat out of the firing zone and to get them on the side of Carriedo's vessel. The ship veering to the side dangerously underneath eh strength of the motion it was undertaking, Arthur dodging a shard of a cannon ball.
The first strike of lightening lit up the sky; Gilbert grinned up at the masses of clouds swirling above him. Taking his ship closer to the escaping form of the Devil's galleon, the privateer was trying to get out of the line of fire, unfortunately and to the disappointment of Gilbert; his ship didn't sustain that much damage from the volley of attacks. The navy blue sea grew in intensity, white foam brushing into Gilbert's crimson eyes, tasting the salty air on his lips. His grand vessel quickly intercepted the Brits ship, oh how he could see the hate in those absinthe eyes.
"Fine if you want it that way." Arthur muttered, knowing full well of the third ship heading his way and how Antonio's ship had almost grazed the side of his galleon, "Unleash all the cannons."
Francis had advanced to the battle when he first saw the lightening, entering full speed into the fray of smoke, rain and gunfire. Seeing the British ship trapped between the two vessels that belonged to two very ferocious captains. He supposed that Arthur already knew that he was going to attack, who wouldn't expect it when The Black Eagle and The Red Terror had already ambushed you? Not that he was going to help ease that pain or something like that, if anything he was the one that hated that Devil the most. Francis' ship charged with guns blazing, striking at the exposed back of Arthur's ship. If only he could see the enraged eyes, to know that he, the English Devil, could be cornered.
A/N: This was originally one longish chapter which ive split into three parts with kind of rushed choosing of points to split it at... the chapter was around 10 thousand words long...or was that ten pages...something like that.
Finally these three head into battle and it wont be their last...what else is there to say. Terrible editing cuz my editing friend is always busy...the plot will eventually start up i guess... and thank you (and i really mean thank you!) to everyone who favourites or reviews or follows me because you guys seriously make me fluffly and are awesome. Hopefully ill edit (HAHA edit..) the rest of this trilogy soon and all...(looks back on terrible updating record...i really need to finish something that isn't a oneshot...)
