How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending - Chapter 98.2
I screamed in desperation atop the lifeboat. I flailed my arms as if struggling, but nothing reached my grasp. The bow of the flagship rose even higher, tilting at a steep angle. The central hull let out a cracking roar as it began to split cleanly in two.
Hezekia’s second ship, its battered body barely holding together, somehow managed to catch the wind in its sails and turn toward the flagship.
Kwaaaang!
Kwakwakwang!
However, the second ship could not even come close to the flagship. Having already sustained severe damage, and with barely any crew left aboard, its mobility had dropped drastically.
Sensing this sluggish movement, the pirates seemed to grasp the situation. Two of their ships turned their hulls and unleashed relentless cannon fire toward the second ship. Perhaps having run out of ammunition, the second ship could do nothing but endure the attacks, unable to return proper fire.
In the meantime, the lifeboat carrying me reached the front of the third ship. Perhaps having received a signal in advance, the crew of the third ship moved swiftly during a brief lull in the enemy’s bombardment.
Thick ropes were thrown down, and Constantine and I were each pulled up from the lifeboat by Gehardt and Sir Mildred. When I came to my senses, I was already on deck, surrounded and protected by knights.
“The flagship… What happened to the Grand Duke?”
When I asked in a rush, grief and despair flickered across Sir Mildred’s eyes. Suppressing my racing heartbeat, I desperately searched for Tristan.
But the flagship was already slowly sinking, dying as it went. Waves crashed over the ship as it sank in two halves, surging as if they would swallow Tristan, who stood alone upon it.
At that moment, Sir Mildred’s rough voice reached my ears.
“Raise the sails. Withdraw from the battlefield and head for Hezekia. Full speed ahead!”
“Full speed ahead!”
“Full speed ahead!”
At the command, the third ship unfurled all its sails at once. The vessel, swollen with wind, began to move little by little, pulling away from the battlefield. It felt as though all the blood had drained from my body. I grabbed desperately at Sir Mildred’s sleeve and shouted.
“Full speed ahead, what do you mean by that? If we flee like this, what happens to the flagship? What are we supposed to do about Tristan!”
Sir Mildred could not bring himself to meet my gaze. With his head bowed and eyes averted, he answered in a voice that barely held together.
“There was an order. In the worst case, you, Grand Consort, and the Crown Prince’s heir were to be saved as the highest priority.”
“An order? Are you saying Tristan gave that command? No, what nonsense is that? Tristan could come aboard this ship too. Why, why are you leaving him behind like that!”
“If His Grace boards this ship, the enemy fleet will pursue us to the very end. In that case, no one could guarantee survival. Therefore, His Grace…”
“Are you saying he became the bait?”
Sir Mildred pressed his lips tightly together. He seemed unable to speak, but the answer was already clear. My hand fell limply to my side as shock overtook me.
From the very beginning, Tristan had prepared for the possibility that such a moment might come. When the worst arrived, he intended to sacrifice himself to save Constantine and me.
I could not believe it. No, how utterly absurd was this plan. The flagship was already shattered into rags, barely floating atop the sea. At this rate, its sinking was only a matter of time.
After that, the enemy would chase us, and Tristan’s sacrifice, offered willingly as bait, would likely end in vain. It would have been better to flee together somehow. You fool. Idiot. Why would you devise such a reckless plan!
That was when it happened.
From the deck of the flagship drifting farther and farther away, Tristan, standing alone, suddenly raised his arm high. His lips moved rapidly as he issued a silent command.
From within the flagship, already split in half and collapsing, an enormous blaze suddenly erupted, exploding outward in all directions.
In that instant, my eyes flew wide open.
“Hezekia’s fire?”
It was the trump card, the final weapon that could not be used because the wind had been unfavorable. Tristan had chosen to deploy that last resort at last.
But the wind was still wildly shifting, whipping about with no regard for control.
“No… not now. Not now, Tristan!”
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