The Imperial Scepter of Glory

Chapter 17 Pirates (Part 1)

Holy Light Calendar, Year 184, Mid-November.

After completing numerous missions, Lintan and his mercenary group receive a new task—eliminating a band of pirates.

For the Holy Cross Alliance, pirates had always been a major threat, second only to the beastmen. Within the Alliance, aside from the Meazza Kingdom—locked in near-constant warfare with the beast men for seven to eight months each year—the rest of the territory consisted mostly of vast plains. These fertile lands, with their gentle sea breezes and ample rainfall, made the Alliance a powerhouse in agricultural production. However, the plains had their disadvantages as well—natural resources were scarce. Aside from two large iron and copper mines in Meazza, no other kingdom or principality within the Alliance possessed a significant iron deposit, let alone precious metal mines like gold or silver.

To compensate, the Holy Cross Alliance turned to the sea. Thriving maritime trade allowed them to exchange their surplus grain for weapons and other essential goods. But a prosperous oceanic trade also attracted predators—the most notorious pirates in the world lurked in the southern waters of the Alliance, known as the Golden Ocean Pirates.

Lintan’s mission was to eliminate a specific pirate crew. Fortunately, these pirates weren’t at sea—otherwise, this would have been a job for the navy, equipped with warships. Instead, intelligence reports had pinpointed their hideout on land, making it a task suitable for mercenaries.

Under normal circumstances, handling bandits and pirates would be the responsibility of the military. After all, armies often welcome such engagements as opportunities for live combat training or for young noble officers to earn military honors. However, the Holy Cross Alliance was different. With a shared border with the beastmen empire, the Alliance was engaged in annual conflicts of varying scale. The current war had already lasted two years, involving over seventy thousand troops—the largest battle in a decade. Every kingdom in the Alliance was funneling men and resources to the front lines, leaving their homeland's defenses stretched thin. The standing armies barely had enough manpower to maintain internal order, let alone conduct large-scale pirate suppression operations.

By around four in the afternoon, Lintan and his mercenaries reached their target.

The pirate hideout was located in a rocky coastal region, more than a hundred kilometers from Florensa City. On a bright, open beach, two sailing ships lay anchored offshore. They bore no pirate flags—after all, even pirates knew the importance of discretion when resting on land.

The beach itself was narrow, with the tide capable of submerging it completely. Behind it stood a maze of jagged rock formations, within which lay a concealed entrance to a small cave.

"This place is well hidden," remarked a young warrior, stepping forward. His name was Versailles, the youngest member of the Frlegg Mercenary Group. Though only seventeen or eighteen, he had already fought alongside Edward’s father, the late Knight Frlegg, in the Warsman War for two years. The boy who once struggled to hold a sword had now grown into a battle-hardened warrior, his hands stained with the blood of several beastman soldiers.

Versailles was one of the few in the mercenary group close in age to Lintan. Most of the others were battle-worn veterans in their late twenties or thirties. While experience and discipline were assets, their lack of youthful endurance and agility presented a challenge for Lintan.

But this was not the time for such concerns. Lintan raised his hand, signaling four newly recruited mercenaries skilled in ranged combat to take position. One wielded a longbow, while the other three carried crossbows.

Under Lintan’s command, the four archers took aim at the two pirates stationed at the cave entrance, who were engaged in a crude conversation filled with vulgar jokes. At Lintan’s signal, the air whistled with the sound of arrows and bolts. One pirate was struck by three arrows simultaneously and died instantly. The other let out two agonized screams before a second bolt silenced him.

"Damn it," Lintan muttered, slightly frustrated. His plan had been to eliminate the sentries quietly and slip into the hideout for a surprise attack. But with that loud scream, any element of surprise was lost—if the pirates inside weren’t already alert, they would have been fit to be called pirates at all.

The four archers looked embarrassed, clearly disheartened by their failure to execute a clean kill. However, Lintan didn’t blame them too harshly. The sea breeze was strong, and the distance wasn’t exactly favorable. They were mercenaries, not legendary marksmen—it was unreasonable to expect flawless precision.

Still, Lintan remained confident. Based on the presence of two ships, he estimated the pirate crew’s total strength to be around sixty to one hundred men. The Frlegg Mercenary Group, including Lintan, had fifty-one fighters—a numerical disadvantage, but not an insurmountable one. Besides, he had a plan.

At his command, the twelve spearmen were arranged into a tight formation on the relatively flat beach. Behind them stood a squad of two-handed swordsmen, ready to charge when needed. About ten melee-focused mercenaries guarded the flanks, ensuring the spearmen wouldn’t be easily outmaneuvered. Meanwhile, Versailles led another ten mercenaries to hide among the coastal rocks, preparing for a surprise attack.

With their formation set, they waited.

Before long, the sound of commotion echoed from the cave.

Soon, a wave of bare-chested pirates, wielding cutlasses and daggers, stormed out of the hideout. They quickly spotted the bodies of their fallen comrades and the Frlegg Mercenary Group standing ready on the beach.

Lintan remained concealed within the formation, narrowing his eyes as he observed the approaching pirates—muscular, sun-scorched men with battle-hardened faces. Rough, but experienced.

Despite the ambush, the pirates didn’t panic. Life at sea had prepared them for sudden confrontations, and they had seen worse. Moreover, they weren’t particularly intimidated—after all, the mercenaries were neither heavily armored nor vastly superior in number. If anything, the pirates were feeling confident. Their comrades were still emerging from the cave; soon, they would outnumber their enemies two to one.

A numerical advantage—but would it be enough?