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RE: TURN OF MANA

Chapter 15 / 53

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Chapter 15 of 53

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Chapter 15: Princess

RE: TURN OF MANA

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Night settled heavily across the sea as the ship anchored near a dark island covered in crooked trees and jagged black rocks.

Far away behind them, the endless storm still roared in one fixed section of the ocean, flashing with distant lightning like some cursed scar carved into the world itself, while here the waters remained strangely calm.

Large fires burned across the deck while pirates drank themselves stupid, gambling with coins and knives and screaming vulgar songs into the salty wind.Full novel: RE: TURN OF MANA — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠

Some danced drunkenly while others passed around bottles of rum, and the entire ship smelled of alcohol, sweat, seawater, and blood.

Near the lower side of the vessel, the slaves sat chained together in miserable silence with no blankets, shelter, or proper food.

One pirate eventually tossed scraps of leftover meat and stale bread into a dirty wooden bucket as if feeding stray dogs, and the starving slaves immediately lunged toward it, fighting over rotten fish heads and hardened pieces of bread barely edible enough for animals.

Hunger had erased their pride long ago.

Vikram sat near the mast, watching all of this quietly while pain throbbed through his injured leg where the captain had shot him earlier.

He could not force himself to eat, not after hearing the sounds coming from the captain’s cabin.

A woman’s muffled scream escaped from inside again, followed by the sound of slapping and the slow creaking of wood.

The pirates nearby only smirked knowingly at each other while drinking, and one laughed loudly before shouting toward the cabin, “Captain still awake!”

Another pirate whistled mockingly while the others burst into ugly laughter.

Nobody cared.

To them, nothing wrong was happening.

A younger slave sitting beside Vikram finally spoke quietly without looking at him.

He looked barely seventeen, thin as a stick with iron scars around both ankles.

“That’s the princess,” he muttered.

Vikram slowly looked toward him.

“Princess?”

The boy nodded faintly.

“Captain kidnapped her from a small island months ago.”

Another scream escaped the cabin.

The slave lowered his eyes immediately.

“Happens every night.”

Something twisted painfully inside Vikram’s chest as he glanced toward the cabin door again, rage slowly boiling beneath his exhaustion.

“Nobody tried helping her?” he whispered.

The slave gave a hollow little laugh.

“And die?”

That answer alone told Vikram everything about this ship.

Trying to ignore the noises, Vikram finally forced himself to grab one stale piece of bread from the bucket.

It smelled terrible and was hard enough to crack teeth, but he needed the strength.

The moment he lifted it toward his mouth, warm liquid splashed across his face.

He froze instantly.

A drunk pirate stood over him, laughing while still urinating directly onto him.

The pirate grinned lazily.

“Oops.”

Nearby pirates exploded into laughter immediately.

“Look at his face!” one shouted.

“Pretty slave boy gonna cry now!” another barked while slamming his bottle against the deck.

Vikram remained completely still as urine dripped down his face, hair, and clothes.

For one strange moment, everything inside him simply went empty—not anger, not shock, just emptiness.

The pirate smirked wider.

“What happened?

Vikram slowly stared down at his own trembling hands.

He could maybe kill this man if he tried hard enough, but then the rest of the pirates would butcher him instantly.

There was no Power here.

No Mayasabha.

No divine strength guiding him.

Only reality.

Cruel, humiliating reality.

The pirate eventually lost interest and stumbled away laughing with the others.

Vikram quietly stood up and limped toward the darkest corner of the ship alone, and nobody stopped him because nobody cared.

The cold sea wind hit his face while waves crashed softly against the hull below.

For several minutes, he tried holding himself together, but eventually he broke.

Tears came before he could stop them.

Silent tears.

Exhausted tears.

He leaned against old barrels while crying quietly into the darkness, wiping his face angrily over and over again.

Every decision in his life suddenly felt wrong, and he missed home, Mumbai traffic, and even his grandmother forcing him into prayers every morning.

“What kind of stupid virtue test is this…” he whispered shakily.

For the first time since entering Mayasabha, Vikram genuinely felt weak inside.

Heavy footsteps eventually approached him.

Vikram quickly wiped his eyes and looked away.

The captain emerged from his cabin half-dressed, smoking a thick cigar while adjusting his belt carelessly.

Scratches covered his chest and neck while his expression looked completely relaxed, as if nothing terrible had happened inside that room.

His single good eye noticed Vikram standing nearby immediately, and for a few seconds, the two simply stared at each other.

Vikram lowered his gaze first.

The captain smirked faintly before walking toward the railing and staring out at the ocean while smoking in silence.

Behind him, the cabin door remained slightly open, dark and quiet now.

After several minutes, the captain finally tossed the cigar into the sea and barked one final order across the ship.

“Sleep.

We sail before sunrise.”

Gradually, the pirates collapsed around the deck, drunk and exhausted.

Some slept beside fire barrels while others passed out hugging bottles, while the slaves curled together near chains and ropes, desperately trying to survive the cold night wind.

Hours passed quietly beneath the moonlight.

Eventually, only snoring and the sound of waves remained.

Vikram slowly opened his eyes.

The rage inside him had changed now.

It no longer burned wildly.

It had become cold, controlled, and dangerous.

Carefully, he looked around the sleeping ship before quietly picking up a dagger lying beside one unconscious pirate.

His heart pounded violently in his chest as he limped toward the captain’s cabin, every step feeling heavier than the last.

This was murder.

Real murder.

Not survival.

Murder.

But every scream from that room still echoed inside his head.

The cabin door creaked softly as Vikram slipped inside.

Darkness filled the cramped room while moonlight leaked through narrow windows, revealing scattered bottles, maps, weapons, and clothes across the floor, while the smell of sweat, alcohol, and seawater hung heavily in the air.

On the bed beneath thick blankets, someone slept.

Vikram tightened his grip on the dagger while his hands trembled violently.

One stab—that was all it would take.

The figure beneath the blanket shifted slightly.

Vikram swallowed hard and slowly reached forward before suddenly pulling the blanket away.

He froze.

It wasn’t the captain.

A girl stared back at him in absolute terror.

She gasped sharply and tried screaming, but Vikram instantly covered her mouth.

“Shhh!” he whispered desperately.

The girl trembled violently beneath his hand, staring at him with terrified eyes.

Moonlight illuminated bruises covering her shoulders and arms, with fresh injuries mixed among older, fading scars.

Vikram slowly removed his hand once she stopped struggling.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered.

The girl pulled the blanket tightly around herself while still staring at the dagger in his hand.

“Where’s the captain?” Vikram asked quietly.

Her voice shook as she answered.

“He went outside.”

Vikram cursed internally and looked toward the cabin door.

Gone.

He had missed his chance.

The girl slowly looked back at the dagger.

“You came to kill him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Vikram hesitated before finally nodding once.

Something changed in her eyes immediately: hope, tiny and fragile, but real.

Suddenly, she grabbed his wrist desperately.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Please take me with you.”

Vikram froze completely.

Tears filled her eyes as she spoke faster now, almost panicking.

“If he finds out you came here… he’ll hurt me again.”

Her hands trembled violently around his arm.

“I tried escaping twice.

He chained me below deck for days.”

She lowered her head shakily.

“I can’t stay here anymore.”

Vikram looked at the bruises covering her body, then toward the cabin door, and finally at the dagger in his hand.

Outside, the sea remained calm beneath the moonlight, but inside him, something dangerous had started changing forever.

Full novel: RE: TURN OF MANA — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠
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