How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending - Chapter 98.1
All three of them looked as though they had already received advance notice from Tristan.
However, before I could press anyone for answers, the boat suddenly lurched violently. One of the enemy fleet’s small to mid sized galleys abruptly changed course, turning its broadside toward the lifeboat. From beyond the open gun ports, cannon fire erupted. Thankfully, it did not hit the boat directly, but the shells struck nearby, sending several columns of water shooting upward and causing the lifeboat to tilt dangerously to the side.
“Hwaaaang!”
Constantine’s terrified scream rang out. In the next moment, another cannonball slammed straight down into the nearby sea. Gehardt pulled Constantine tightly into his arms and whispered calmly into his ear.
“Your Highness, Your Highness. There is no need to be afraid. Their cannons are terrible. They will never hit us.”
“Hic, hhhng, huheung, Uncle….”
But the child, already thoroughly frightened, cried loudly while repeatedly calling for Tristan. I should have been comforting Constantine, yet I myself felt even more like crying than he did.
Even if they were armed with Rubyere cannons whose firepower was not particularly strong, the enemy ships that the Hezekia flagship had been facing numbered six in total. With that many ships unleashing a coordinated barrage, no matter how large the vessel was, there was no way it could endure.
They had barely managed to sink a few ships, but at a glance, the flagship was already riddled with holes and hanging together in tatters.
On top of that, Tristan had suffered severe injuries.
“No, turn the boat around right now. We have to bring the Grand Duke aboard. Fighting on the flagship is no longer possible!”
“……”
“Sir Mildred, even if we abandon the flagship, we must move Tristan to the third ship. We should focus on the third ship and escape from here at full speed, even if it means shaking them off. Hezekia is right ahead anyway. Sir Mildred? Can you not hear me?”
“That cannot be done, Grand Consort.”
“What?”
Sir Mildred’s calm reply left me stunned. It felt as though a fog had settled over my mind, preventing any coherent thoughts from forming. I turned my head stiffly and called out to Gehardt.
“Gehardt, what is going on?”
“My lord….”
I grabbed at the hem of his clothes and pressed him, but the way he shrank his shoulders and turned his head away felt deeply unsettling. Biting down on my lower lip, I turned my gaze back toward the flagship.
One enemy ship had succeeded in grappling onto it and had begun close combat against the flagship. At this rate, everyone would be targeting Tristan. Moreover, whether they simply did not care about their own men aboard the Hezekia flagship or whether privateers had no sense of loyalty even among pirates, the other privateer ships continued their bombardment without pause.
The stern of the flagship had completely collapsed and been torn apart, to the point where its original shape was barely recognizable. Two of the masts that should have stood tall had vanished without a trace. Large holes riddled the sides, allowing waves to crash inside. Even from this distance, I could clearly hear the creaking sound as the central hull split apart.
As the cracks in the hull worsened, the bow of the flagship slowly began to lift upward.
From the enemy ships blocking it in on all sides as though sealing it off completely, another rain of cannon fire poured down. And there stood Tristan, unwavering, on the rear deck where crossbow bolts and cannon fire flew in succession.
Even as the Hezekia flagship, and the entire fleet, collapsed and shattered into pieces, his posture remained upright. His black hair and cloak whipped violently in the sea wind. His sharp gaze was fixed straight ahead on the flagship leading the Dearsby privateer fleet.
“Tristan….”
I barely managed to move my lips to call out to him, but there was no way my voice could reach. My eyes burned, and my cheeks grew wet. This could not be the end. The flagship carrying Tristan could not collapse like this.
But then a chain shot flew in from the enemy ships, roughly tearing apart the ropes and sails hanging from the last remaining mast. A cannonball struck beneath the mast, and the wood exploded with a thunderous roar. At last, the mast shattered miserably, sending sharp fragments scattering in every direction like rain.
Having lost all of its masts, the flagship was now completely stripped of its mobility, surrounded by five pirate ships and mercilessly torn apart.
“No, no… nooo!”
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