Whoosh!
The flaming arrow streaked across the night sky like a living spark, trailing brilliant orange fire.
Alyn and his crew had just positioned the black-sailed fire ships at the harbor mouth. The moment they saw Logar loose the shot, they rowed hard for safety, hearts pounding with anticipation.
The arrow struck one of the tar-laden vessels.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then — BOOM!
A deafening explosion ripped through the night. Orange flames erupted from beneath the sailcloth, crackling and roaring as they devoured everything in their path.
The black tar, pine resin, and dry kindling inside caught instantly. The heavy canvas sails blackened and split, showering sparks in every direction.
The strong southeast wind Logar had waited days for now fanned the blaze. One ship after another ignited in a chain reaction.
In seconds the entire harbor mouth became an inferno, lighting up the night like midday. The once-dark bay glowed blood-red.
Sharako Lohar stared at the wall of fire blocking his fleet and went pale. This was the enemy's surprise?
The helmsman of Bloodfang spun the wheel frantically, trying to turn away, but the massive warship's momentum was unstoppable. Everyone watched in horror as the flagship slammed straight into the burning wreck.
CRASH!
The impact shook the sea. Flames raced up the hull through every crack and seam. The ram lodged deep in the blazing hulk. Ropes and sails caught fire in an instant, thick black smoke billowing skyward.
Sailors screamed as their skin blistered and clothes melted to their flesh. Someone knocked over an oil barrel — the fire roared even hotter.
Agonized shrieks mixed with the crackle of burning wood. The harbor had become a true sea of flames.
The blaze spread rapidly through the crowded fleet. Ships collided while trying to escape, wood splintering, men howling. The entire allied formation dissolved into chaos.
"Fire! Help me!"
"Gods — my skin is burning!"
Dornish and Triarchy vessels blazed one after another. Soldiers who had never seen anything like this panicked, leaping overboard only to land in water already slick with burning tar. The sea itself turned into liquid fire. Men thrashed for a few seconds before sinking, leaving trails of bubbles and scorched foam.
A few lucky ships avoided the worst of the flames and tried to flee the harbor in blind terror.
They had no idea Femon and Kendel were waiting with Logar's ships, ready to slam the door shut.
"Ram them!" Femon and Kendel roared together.
Their heavy rams smashed into the escaping hulls, splintering planks and flooding the holds with seawater.
The ships trapped at the rear were completely blocked. Some men died under a hail of arrows; others, desperate to escape the fire, only ran straight into the pirates' blades.
"I don't want to die! Save me!"
A burning Dornish soldier clung to a piece of wreckage, skin charred bright red, every breath pure agony.
Behind him, several large Dornish warships were completely engulfed. Thick pillars of black smoke rose into the night sky like demonic clouds.
Logar watched the inferno with a mix of shock and fierce joy. He had never expected the fire attack to work this well.
But there was no time to celebrate. Plenty of enemies were still alive.
He and his men kept loosing arrows, picking off anyone who surfaced, venting the rage of being besieged all day.
"THROAT-CUTTER!!!"
A man soaking wet and shirtless clung to a floating plank, screaming at Logar with pure hatred.
Logar frowned, not recognizing him at first.
The look of utter contempt on Logar's face was the final insult to Ser Maron Gargalen's pride.
His golden hair and beard were mostly burned away, his face covered in weeping blisters. Only his iron will and burning hatred had kept him alive after he'd stripped off his armor and jumped into the sea at the last second.
That same hatred now drove him aboard one of Logar's small boats. He snatched up a fallen sword and roared:
"Using such a filthy, cowardly trick — you truly are nothing but pirate scum! In the name of House Gargalen, I challenge you! Do you dare face me?!"
A few of Logar's men moved to cut him down, but Logar raised a hand to stop them. He drew his own longsword, a cold smile curving his lips.
"Why not?"
"AAAAHHH!"
Maron charged with a desperate roar, sword swinging wildly. His wounds and exhaustion made every strike clumsy.
Shlick!
Logar stepped aside effortlessly and flicked his wrist. The blade opened Maron's throat in one clean stroke. Blood sprayed across the deck. The Dornish knight's eyes bulged; he collapsed without another sound.
Logar shook his head — the kill felt almost too easy. He stepped forward, hacked off the head, and raised it high for every enemy still struggling in the flames to see.
"Ser Maron Gargalen, Dornish commander, is dead! Throw down your weapons and live — or fight on and die!"
Femon and Kendel arrived with the rest of the fleet just in time to see Logar holding the severed head aloft. They burst into wild cheers.
"Sea Burner! Sea Burner!!"
At first it was only a few voices. Then, as every pirate looked at the blazing wrecks and the sea turned red with fire, the chant exploded across the water:
"Sea Burner Logar! Sea Burner Logar!!"
This impossible victory, this sea set ablaze, turned Logar into something more than a man in their eyes.
No one understood the despair of the day better than they did. That Logar had led them from the brink of death to total triumph made him godlike.
They roared his new name until their voices cracked, the chant mingling with the crackle of flames and crash of waves.
Some pirates dropped to their knees on the decks, worshipping him like a living deity.
Alyn stared at the scene in awe.
Watching Logar stand tall against the backdrop of burning ships, hearing the thunderous chant of "Sea Burner," he couldn't help but join in. The moment would stay with him for the rest of his life.
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