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The Shanty Codex I, by Saint Morgan LeFay.
Francis was way past his limits.
A lecture from fake Camila, a near-death experience, then getting exposed by Eloise was not how he expected that day to go.
Assuming he was comatose for a mere day.
“Leonie. What’s the date?”
Leonie took a moment to recall it. “The second of July.”
Wonderful. His coma lasted for a week.
Still, he survived. And that was worth something.
This marks my third near-death experience in a month.
In all fairness, the sensation was growing familiar to him, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.
“Do you know what these liquids are?” Leonie asked at last.
“One of them gives exceptional endurance, while the other one enhances observation skills.”
Leonie groaned. “You know what I mean!”
His humor returning was at least a good sign.
“They’re called Fragments.”
“Fragments of Stanzas, I’m assuming?”
Sharp woman.
Francis nodded in approval. “The dark blue one is a fragment of Observation, while the yellow one is beyond my knowledge.”
Whether they were fragments or Fragments was unknown to him, and it was far from the most pressing matter in that moment.
“That settles it then,” Leonie said as she went for the light brown one.
“What are you doing?” Francis asked in concern.
“These things must be worth their weight in silver,” Leonie explained herself. “I’m not letting them go to waste.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Francis replied. “Why are you going for the yellow one?”
Leonie looked slightly embarrassed before eventually explaining herself. “You understand the blue one better, so it’s only fair that I drink the magic sewage.”
That nearly caused him to choke on his own saliva. “Don’t call it that!”
Leonie, in turn, burst out laughing.
In truth, he saw what Observation accomplished back home, giving him a preliminary grasp of the Stanza. The other one, however, was a wild card. And as useful as supernatural endurance was, sensing Stanzas and heartbeats from a distance was the far better pick.
Still, forcing the woman who nursed him back to health to drink a potion she detested didn’t sit well with him.
“Leonie,” he started. “Only drink it if you want to.”
“Are you kidding? Endurance is everything I could’ve hoped for.”
The intel broker then downed the vial.
That settles it, then.
The aftermath was… anticlimactic. Francis expected a magical transformation of sorts, yet nothing seemed to change about the woman.
“How do you feel?” he asked, checking to see if it felt as mundane as it looked.
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“Huh,” Leonie said in puzzlement. “Same as earlier.”
Francis was perplexed, before quickly remembering his own experience. The only reason he knew of his powers was Saint Agnes; otherwise, he would’ve remained clueless for a while.
“Punch me,” Leonie said abruptly.
“What?” Francis said, before the realization set in. “Moment of truth.”
Leonie got closer, then he punched her shoulder. “Hope that didn’t hurt.”
Leonie, in turn, laughed. “Hurt? I didn’t feel anything. Did you hold back?”
“A little,” Francis admitted, making her slightly frustrated.
“Come on, Yves. Give me all you’ve got.”
The initial punch gave Francis enough confidence to deliver a second, which yielded the same results.
“This is incredible,” Leonie said as she looked at her hands.
“Your turn,” Francis interrupted.
Leonie, in turn, raised a brow. “I didn’t know you were that kind of man.”
Francis would’ve felt flustered; he had not experienced a near-death experience for a week.
“No. I want to see if it also enhances your offense,” he explained.
Francis then switched his sapphire ring to his right arm. “The arm without artifacts, please.”
Leonie shrugged, then delivered a punch to his left shoulder.
This time, his arm tore clean off.
Her punch had amputated a limb.
The pain was excruciating, as always. But the tower expedition conditioned Francis to deem it temporary and persevere, and so he merely winced.
Leonie nearly gasped, but stopped herself as she saw his arm mending itself.
“Yves… I’m really sorry. I didn’t know it would go this far.”
Francis simply shrugged. “Eh, seems like it’ll grow back in minutes.”
The grotesque scene quickly made him understand why Valeria was ostracized back in England.
Having seen enough gore, Francis avoided looking at his regenerating arm and instead focused on wrapping the torn one with a cloth to dispose of it.
“Would you like me to… lend you a hand?” Leonie said, before bursting into laughter. “No, but really, I’m sorry.”
“I mean, you saved my life. An arm or two is negligible.”
“Gotta hand it to you,” she said as she tried her best to suppress her laughter. “You’re quite forgiving.”
Lord grant me patience.
Francis merely sighed.
“Oh come on! Admit it.”
“What?” he said in resignation.
“Having a witty friend around is… handy.”
For just a moment, Francis regretted that he had been brought back to life.
The atmosphere then quickly grew solemn, as the name Francis hung thick in the air.
“I think I owe you an explanation,” he said to Leonie at last.
“What do you mean?”
Normally, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone with such information, but the woman took care of him tirelessly for a week, so opening up was only fair. “My name is not Yves.”
“I mean, figures,” she replied calmly.
“Huh?”
“What? A bounty hunter using his real name? Your loved ones would be dead the second you finish your first assignment.”
His lack of experience nearly made him visibly embarrassed. But to his credit, he had no family.
“Still, I owe you my real identity,” he exclaimed. “My name is Francis, and I’m a part of Valeria’s crew.”
That caught the intel broker by surprise. “Valeria? The Valeria?”
“Um, yeah?” he replied in puzzlement. His captain was certainly a force to reckon with, but the reaction still seemed unwarranted.
“What do you mean yeah?” Leonie essentially fangirled. “That woman is a legend! Most believe that she could rival even a Pirate King.”
I wouldn’t go that far.
Valeria was no punching bag, but the Pirate Kings were Saints. And if Saint Agnes was anything to go by, Valeria would be vaporized in mere seconds.
“How did you even come in touch with her?” Leonie asked.
“She was passing by my hometown, I died, then joined her crew and went on a mission,” Francis explained. “Job was a bust, I ended up stranded here, and the rest is history.”
Leonie paused for a few seconds. “That... certainly explains a lot.”
Silence then befell the room, at least until Leonie broke it as she always did. “Aren’t you going to drink your potion, Francis?”
The woman calling him by his actual name was strangely endearing, but he kept it to himself. Francis nodded, then downed the liquid.
***
Edward has had enough.
The so-called Pirate Emperor and his delusion might have been entertaining at first, but the joke had grown dull.
Especially when he began trying to cement the title.
“Captain, when are we setting sail?” Robert asked.
A good question, that was. The Lucayan Archipelago might have been close to New York, but it still required a great deal of planning.
It would’ve been simple enough for Blackbeard, had it not been for the rumors.
“Before that,” Edward replied. “Do you think that pesky privateer would stand a chance?”
The lad didn’t reply immediately, undoubtedly putting that Shanty of his to use.
“Valeria might be just a Deacon,” he said at last. “But I wouldn’t underestimate her.”
“Just a Deacon?” Edward said in scorn. “There is no such thing as ‘just a Deacon’. You’re either competent, or you’re not.”
“I meant no offense, Captain,” the lad said uncomfortably, leading Blackbeard to simply wave his hand.
The Submerged world was beyond stupid for ranking people based on Depth. Even a Supplicant could kill a Saint with enough preparation. Edward not only knew that, he weaponized it.
It was how he claimed his throne, after all.
“Remind me of her abilities again?” he asked his subordinate.
“Three Demise Stanzas, three Enthral Stanzas, an Extrication Fragment, and an Acceleration one,” Robert replied as if he was reciting a book.
Troublesome, utterly troublesome.
This lass could heal, sense Stanzas, and freeze water with her Shanty alone. Enthral’s charm was harmless enough since his subordinates were Reverends. As for the Fragments? Blackbeard could only hope that his pirates would have enough sense to finish the job before she got to use them.
“How is she not a Pirate Warlord yet?” Blackbeard asked, genuinely dumbfounded.
“She’s not interested.”
Such a shame. The lass could’ve been an excellent asset, but angering the Church further was the last thing he needed.
Let’s just hope they find more scapegoats.