If someone told me that I would be on top what can only be a fucking kaiju roaring out molten fire from it's embalmed decalcified lion's head, fracturing and melting the hull of an arching hull of a ship, I would ask, what are you smoking and can I try a sample?
Though given how this ship looks like a surgeons worst nightmare with falling bodies and limbs falling all around me, it's like this world is encouraging me to get high! Either that or it just wants to see me throw my heart up.
And don't ask me about the other ships, because no one can have eyes on the back of their head while curling into a ball! It's safe to say that they're already heading down to the coral.
Nothing else can be heard but the ringing in my ears. Everything playing out before my eyes feels so distant, even as dudes splatter around me into gory puddles of blood and innards. One guy falls close, barely missing my hand. Fuck the look on the dudes face! How the fuck is this seizure wreck still conscious? Thank Liu Bei my peripheral vision and ADHD shift to more lucky armored dudes sticking the landing
Axes and freaky guns in tow, but mostly just sporting spears, staggering around like fried addicts on casual Friday, but given how the ground's shaking like aftershock, can't really blame them. More soon join them with one guy particularly standing out.
I mean, gruff looking, body of a Mr. Olympian washout underneath that leather chainmail mish mash, a few nasty scars on cheekbones that dudes would kill to have, and rugged Viking buzz mohawk, fantasy logic says this guy's the big boss or something.
"Find a way inside! Hurry!"
Yeah, this guy is definitely calling the shots. I just have one question: Inside to where, chief?
Turns out I got my answer in the form of these dudes stomping, slashing and tearing the ground beneath them with these fucked up bone crunching sounds wrecking my ears every time they tear something off.
Maybe when in Rome?
"Volley!"
That rich regal voice is the only warning I get before several of these guys slam to the ground with skinny stakes wrecking their bodies. Rather than freeze up, hoping the archers vision is not based on movement, like my dumbass, the madlads decided to say 'Fuck it!' and just charge blindly ahead, axes, spears and shields raised or desperate to get a shot off only for their guns to fall silent save for the small splats of water sprinkling onto their cheeks.
Gotta love wet powder.
My view changes towards the source of those men's downfall: archers draped in plain bright grey clothes. But among the band, one in particular stands out: A woman embodying the full literal blinding aura of a dominatrix.
I might be forgiven thinking she's some sort of hot naked half-reptile lady, but after closer inspection, turns our it's just very distinguishable armor than just a layer of skin. Looks like the armor's seen better days, but the wear and tear in the scales has it's charm, like this isn't her first rodeo.
Man, Law 69 would go crazy if pictures of her are ever found.
Tall, dark, and hot aside, this snow blue haired Dommy Mommy is sporting freakishly long whip with silver edges so sharp, I'm surprise I haven't cut myself just by looking at them!
Chicks like her all share the same sort of tropes: hot and cold, cruel and sadistic, and eager to smash the skulls of their victims with the heel of their foot.
This one, though, the one graciously yet demonically dispatching each attack with snapped necks, sharp leg swings, and whip slashing, there's only cold concentration burning within her almond shape amber eyes.
There is that close call when a pair of dudes grabbed her from behind after being bashed in the face with a shield, but after a headbutt, and a sick lunge kick, she easily wipes the floor with them.
Oh, yeah and there's the skull crushing with the foot. Definitely would have turn me on if I didn't feel that bone cracking sound all the way from here.
So this is what its like when exotic dancers have a black belt in martial arts.
One dude comes so close in striking the fatal blow on her. Until he's thrown flat on his cheeks after taking a stake to nose. Talk about a bullseye! That pretty sick shot comes from lanky looking dude with a broody demeanor emerging at random beneath the earth with a shimmering black bow in tow and looking like he's just catching her breath.
His choice in fashion is more... conventional? Is that the right word? I mean, decorative armor with silk and leather? It looks like something some high fantasy elf would wear into battle. I mean, his ponytail looks pretty prim and proper, so I can't complain.
It looks like the fight is already over. All Dommy and Archer just need to make it decisive, which is bound to happen at any second.
Until I piece together that cheek bones over there takes the Gold for designated sole survivor. Dude doesn't look all that freaked out though, just mildly annoyed, if not just wanting to take a nap. That would be pretty cool if Dommy didn't dominate the staring contest with that stone cold glare that dudes would just nut over.
This looks like the start of a pretty sweet round between two champions and the best part is, no one seems to have suspected me this whole time!
"Still now!"
Fuck. Of course I had to jinx myself.
Archer, aiming a pretty looking intimidating arrow at me, just had to crush my dreams of making it out like some isekai master thief.
"When will thieves ever learn that there is no escape?" You know, I would argue with Archer, but than again, what's the point? "Surrender now while your kin here still draws breath!"
I know right away that Sole Survivor is no way gonna vouch for me the moment he eyeballs me. I mean, what am I? The main hero? Aside from not getting entangled in a language barrier, the only thing I got going for me is my mysterious necklace, wait a second... maybe by that longing stare he's sporting me, that might be my ticket out of this mess.
"Strike him down and retribution will be decisive and merciless!"
Wow... he actually cares for me? Or what I might do for him?
Well it was worth a shot. Here's hoping getting an arrow in the sub-occipitals is fucking painless!
Seconds pass. My nerves aren't picking up any pain. I guess this is what painless deaths feel like?
Little bit nervous on whether I've been a good enough boy for eternal paradise, the lids are slowly peeled back to reveal...
"I'm still alive?"
Do I dare look back? Sure! Why the hell not?
I shouldn't be complaining, and it feels kinda weird in a good way, I guess? But, the fact that Archer is just scanning me. It's almost like I'm a stray cat he doesn't know what to deal with.
I know the feeling, dude. I also don't know what to do with me sometimes.
"Shit!"
Well, my ears are quick to spook me with ferocious grunts. Funny, when people usually think of grunting, NSFW scenes pop up, not an epic duel to the death aboard... whatever the hell I'm on.
Shit, I almost forgot what a good one on one duel looks like. Usually, these days, it's all epic looking strikes not doing all that much, way too many long shots over whoever is thinking or monologuing, and then the decisive blow 3 or, Shivago forbid, 20 minutes later. This... well my eyes can't keep up with these two!
It's like watching two slim looking fast mechs battling it out, bobbing and weaving, slashing and deflecting, a few lucky shots that don't do much but annoy or piss off either.
But then it happens. That one trademark event in any epic duel I haven't seen since I was a kid. The intense searing and grinding of weapons, the fiery glare Dommy flashes as she closes the distance either through her own volition or trapping Sole between her whipping blades. The violent bashes of his shield and the violent swinging of his axe.
To say that this is a nail biter is baby shit. This fight is where finger bleed if my teeth have anything to say about it!
Turns out a kick to the leg lends the edge to Sole as Dommy cries out staggering back, losing her club after Sole swings it out of her grip.
"Athairnor!" Archer crying out for his friend makes me think otherwise he might not be the bad guy here, but then again I remember he's holding me hostage. "Stay where you are!"
"Stay back, Ghilinthros!" Athairnor pleads rather than commands. Huh, these two close or something?
"Wise words, good lady." Man, Sole is being a surprisingly good sport about it. Then he brings his axe to her neck. "And a dancer prodigal. Truly. But you should have known 'twas only a matter of time before storm caught up with you. Surrender the ship and cease this madness once and for all."
Sounds pretty reasonable.
But judging by that bitter grin on Athairnor's bruised face, I can sense she's not so reasonable.
"You truly are an audacious one are you? You and all your ilk sealed your fates the moment you willingly walked into the spider's lair!"
"Then I am left with no choice. On His Majesty's honor, you will pay, Athairnor!"
My breath get trapped in my throat seeing the axe brought down towards Athainor's neck. Once she's gone, and, hopefully I don't throw up from the decapitated mess, that'll just leave Ghil, Ghillenthor...? Whatever, Archer and Sole left standing! All Sole would have to do is just dodge and weave, slice Archer and hopefully not kill me (He seems nice enough I think) and get down below whatever this thing is.
Hopefully he won't bring me along because I get the feeling I'd be promoted to the squishy tank with 5 HP. Maybe I can make a run for it? Maybe play dead? Geez how the hell am I going to get out of-
*Pong!*
Dude, tell me why my eyes are feeding me, Athainor just flicking Sole's axe away like it's nothing?
"Eeerrraagh!"
I blink, barely missing Athainor pouncing on to Sole, smothering his face with her palm. I almost feel the pain in my nerves just from looking at her slamming him on his back. I would have earned a broken bone if I just heard something cracking.
If other people can see the look in Sole's eyes, right now, how shock can slowly turn into this solemn look of acceptance, they can never imagine a more surreal sight. Even as Athairnor slams her heel straight onto his temple, begging to dig deeper.
"Consider fortune favoring you. If not barely." She turns to her awe-struck band. "Board those splintered husks! Claim everything and anyone of value and strike down all who dare stand in your way!"
Great, with Dommy's roaring band rushing aboard the fractured ship, where does that leave-
"What of this one, Athairnor?"
Hey! Don't interrupt me, dude!
But, yeah, given how my rough draft of a plan died alongside Sole back there, that leaves me at their mercy.
Man, how fucking embarrassing does all this sound?
I should be thankful that Dommy didn't just literally slash me right then and there with the range she can dish out. One you think that having some deadly warrior with a domineering vibe march towards you would make some lucky overeager bastard feel like his life is complete.
If only this is just like anime.
But hey, at least she's getting down to my level. Nothing wrong with her just staring you down right? Just a little freaky. Maybe breaking eye contact will make it easier.
"Dude, just fucking get it over with." Nothing letting out one more sigh before I have to face the music.
Not wanting to see it coming, I turn back down towards my little trinket, clutching the only piece of familiarity in this fuck fest of R18 isekai even as their shadows loom over.
Well that's a red flag, shut those eyes, brace for impact and hope whatever gods are out there actually feel sorry for me actually make my life good.
Shit, hopefully they'll have WiFi.