Chapter 6: The Attack
"The price we agreed on before wasn't like this!"
"The price from last year doesn't count anymore!" the fat merchant snapped impatiently. "Costs have gone up. If I buy at your old rate, I'll be selling at a loss!"
"Loss? That's nonsense, Rick!" Village Chief Marin's voice rose with frustration. "You've tasted our green grapes yourself! They're the best in the entire West Blue—big, sweet, and full of juice! Go ahead, try one. You won't find anything better anywhere else!"
Rick, the merchant, waved his hand dismissively, his chubby face twisting into a smirk. "Sweet or not, they're still just grapes. The West Blue is full of them. Take the offer or let them rot in your fields!"
"This price…"
Marin's voice trembled slightly. He clenched his fists, face red with anger—but before he could speak again, a calm but steady voice called out behind him.
"Village Chief Marin."
He froze for a moment, then turned around.
Eiger was approaching with Nico beside him, their hands still loosely intertwined.
"Eiger! You're here too?" Marin forced a laugh, quickly hiding his irritation. "Did you get everything you needed?"
"All done," Eiger replied, his gaze flicking to the red-faced merchant. "I overheard something about grapes. What's going on?"
Marin sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. "You might as well hear it. The purchase price for our green grapes this year has dropped to half of what it was last year. At that rate, we can't afford to sell."
He frowned bitterly. "The villagers worked so hard all year, and now we'll barely cover the cost of growing them. It's outrageous."
That was enough to make Eiger understand the situation.
The green grapes of the Sibia River Archipelago weren't ordinary fruit. Each grape was nearly the size of an orange—fragrant, juicy, and uniquely sweet. They were one of the West Blue's prized delicacies.
Every autumn, merchant ships came to the islands to trade: villagers sold their grapes in bulk, while the merchants supplied goods and essentials. It was a mutually beneficial relationship—until now.
If the merchants were suddenly cutting prices in half, it wasn't just unfair—it was extortion.
Eiger frowned. "So they're forcing you to sell cheap?"
Marin nodded grimly. "And threatening to stop coming altogether if we refuse."
Nico, standing beside him, crossed her arms. Her brows knit in quiet displeasure.
Rick, clearly growing impatient, sneered. "That's right. Take the offer or leave it. We can buy elsewhere. The West Blue doesn't revolve around your little island, old man. If you won't sell, don't expect our ships to dock here again."
Marin's face turned crimson, his voice trembling with rage. "You greedy swine…"
He took a step forward, fists shaking. "You're deliberately undercutting us! Do you think we'll just—"
"Careful, old man," Rick interrupted, smirking. "You don't want to make enemies of the wrong people. Remember—accidents happen at sea all the time."
The words hung in the air, cold and heavy.
Eiger's eyes narrowed.
That wasn't business talk. That was a threat.
Marin faltered. He wanted to argue, but his lips pressed into a thin line. The merchants controlled their only supply line. If the ships stopped coming, the entire village would suffer through the winter.
He couldn't risk that.
Eiger, however, wasn't bound by such concerns.
His voice was calm—but beneath it, there was steel.
"I'd watch my words if I were you," he said slowly.
Rick turned his head, scowling. "And who the hell are you supposed to be? Another loudmouth villager?"
Eiger smiled faintly, though his eyes didn't. "Just a retired Marine."
That single word—Marine—made the merchant's smug grin falter for a moment.
But before anyone could react further, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the dockside.
"Boss! Something's wrong!"
Another merchant came running, pale-faced and sweating. "The guards—the ship's guards—they're under attack!"
"What?!"
Before Rick could process the words, a sudden explosion thundered through the air. The blast rocked the dock, scattering crates and sending villagers screaming.
Smoke billowed upward. From within it came the sound of gunfire—and the glint of blades.
Eiger's expression turned cold in an instant.
He caught Nico's arm and gently but firmly pushed her behind him. "Stay close."
"Eiger—?" she began, but stopped when she saw his face.
His posture had changed—relaxed yet sharp, like a predator ready to strike.
Marin's voice quavered. "An… attack?"
Eiger didn't answer. He was already moving, his hand gripping the single-handed axe strapped across his back.
As the dock erupted into chaos, the villagers scattered for cover. Smoke, fire, and screams filled the air.
And through the haze, figures in tattered cloaks leapt from the ship, weapons drawn, their faces hidden behind crude masks.
Pirates.
Eiger's gaze hardened. "So this was your plan all along."
The fat merchant stumbled back, pale as a ghost. "N-No! I didn't—this wasn't supposed to—"
But Eiger was already stepping forward, the sunlight glinting off the edge of his axe.
"Stay behind me," he said quietly, his tone steady but absolute.
Nico's eyes widened slightly.
Something stirred deep within her—an old, buried feeling, half fear and half awe.
Because in that moment, standing before her—calm amid fire and chaos—
Eiger didn't look like a retired sailor anymore.
He looked like a man born for battle.
"Evacuate!" Marin barked, the color drained from his face. "Get everyone to safety—now!"
He didn't wait for orders. Marin bolted toward the ship, yelling as he ran, "Run! Everyone, run!"
Chaos erupted on the merchant vessel. Rick, who had only minutes ago been haggling, now ran about like a headless man, shouting at his crew. "Cut the lines! Get off the dock—do not let the pirates board!"
"Captain—there are still villagers on the ship!" someone yelled.
"Leave them!" Rick snapped. "Sail away! Damn Marines—how did pirates even reach here? Get the guards out—stop those scum!"
Eiger ignored Rick. The man's choice to flee was the only sensible one from the merchant's selfish angle—better to leave than die—but Eiger didn't intend to run. He wasn't overly worried about the kinds of pirate crews that bothered a remote place like this; they weren't feared sea terrors, just brigands. To the villagers, however, any pirate was a catastrophe.
Eiger's voice was flat and resolute as he turned to Nico. "I'll drive them off."
Before she could object, Eiger glanced around and snatched a spare axe from a nearby stall. Then he pushed through the panicked crowd and raced toward the pier where the pirates were already disembarking.
By the time he reached the end of the dock, the scene was frantic. People were screaming and running, hens and small carts scattering. The pirates poured off their ship in a ragged, vicious swarm—cloaks fluttering, crude weapons glinting. The merchant crew tried to form a line, but they were few and frightened.
A booming laugh echoed from the pirate ship. A hulking man leapt onto the dock—broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, a living mountain of a man, his voice like a blow. "Heh—didn't expect a merchant to stop by, huh? Lucky day for us!" He planted himself, a grinning giant. "I'm the captain of the Giant Bear Pirates! Everybody shut up and listen!"
His smile faded when the villagers continued to scatter. Anger flared across his face. "I said quiet! If anyone runs, kill them!"
"Aye, boss!" his crew roared back, eager for blood.
Some pirates barked for indiscriminate slaughter. Others drunkenly added caveats: "Don't ruin the wine or the money—or the women!"
They surged, blades raised, toward the fleeing villagers. The atmosphere became a fever of terror and violence.
One pirate, faster than the rest, closed in on an elderly man stumbling in the dust. He raised his blade with a sneer: "You old fool—meet your end!"
But before he could strike, the sound of a blade cutting through the air snapped across the dock—
swish—
—and then a gruesome thud. The pirate's body split cleanly in two; blood fountained from his midsection as he dropped like a severed puppet.
Every head turned. The pirates halted, shock and fear ripping through them. For a heartbeat the harbor held its breath. What had happened? Who could have felled a man so swiftly and without hesitation?
Eiger stood at the edge of the chaos, axe streaked with the first flash of red. Calm as stone, he had already swung—precise, brutal, final. The sudden, lethal effectiveness of his strike froze the attackers in their tracks.
Those who had come looking for an easy plunder now realized the island might not be so helpless. The captain's grin faltered. He called out, furious and confused, but his voice lacked command.
Eiger didn't give them a chance to regroup. He moved with a predator's grace, placing himself between the pirates and the fleeing villagers. His stance was steady and certain; every motion carried the weight of experience.
"Get back!" he barked, voice ringing across the dock. "Leave them alone and I won't make this worse."
For a few tense seconds, neither side acted. The pirates scrutinized the man who'd just cut one of their comrades in half; the villagers clung to one another, startled but emboldened by the sight. Rick the merchant paled, his earlier bravado evaporated.
Then, as if sensing their leader's hesitation, some of the pirates muttered and shuffled, while others tightened their grips on weapons—hungry, reckless, but uncertain now.
Eiger's gaze never wavered. He was ready to strike again, and the dock, in all its sudden silence, knew it.