Headed by a Snake-Chapter 859 Promise Of Vengeance

?"Sur-PRISE, B*TCH!!"

Zhevra had always prided herself on her reaction speed, especially in potentially lethal situations.

A massive green blur emerged from the forest. She couldn't identify it, but she lowered her body while simultaneously sweeping her attacker's leg.

After the fact, she realized she'd barely avoided the swing of a bearded war axe.

Her shin connected with her opponent's ankle... but it felt like she'd struck solid stone.

Corallidus.

Zhevra looked up. f𝘳ℯℯ𝙬𝒆𝚋𝐧oν𝑒Ɩ.c𝑜𝙢

...It was the largest and meanest-looking Corallidus she'd ever laid her eyes on.

He was... a Petty Officer in the Royal Marines.

His accursed name... was Bob.

"GAHAHA HAHA!!" The creature laughed as he spun his axe over his head and rested it over his shoulder.

"Eh... heh... heh... Ya don't look so 'appy ta see me," He grinned, lust for blood burning in his beady black eyes, "But I'z reeeeal 'appy ta see you, ya f*ckin' two-'orned WENCH!!"

Zhevra rolled to the side to dodge the Corallidus' downward chop, then she ran up his chest and kicked off to create distance.

As she rotated her body in the air, she grabbed her rifle off her back, racking it back to load a new round in the chamber.

She landed with her barrel aimed at the Coral Boy's center of mass. Even with only one eye, she would not miss at such a short distance.

"Save pillow talk for lover," She growled, "Tell her my name when you arrive in hell. Maybe distant cousin?"

"You fink 'at's enuff ta kill me?" Bob pointed a gauntleted thumb at his thick, armored chest. "Dat is... before I crack da 'orns off yer head an' wear 'em better 'an you ever did..."

"To answer question:" Zhevra smiled, "Yes."

She pulled the trigger.

It clicked.

Oh.

Oh, f*ck.

Zhevra had no idea the manner of which she was struck... but she found herself staring sideways at the forest trees.

Her left side ached from her impact to the ground. Her right arm-- it hurt to move.

...Broken, most likely.

She was still bleeding. She had one eye.

Stickyfingers had stolen her ammunition.

She was... so very f*cked.

"?Ethereal Stride.??"

Zhevra felt herself falling, dropping down through magical darkness.

Feeling a new impact of her flattened body against sand, she checked her surroundings.

The distance... it was good-- good enough.

She had to get away. She had to get to a hiding spot... or meet up with Vyzen...

He... he would do everything she asked for.

He'd kill them... scatter them in fear!! Crush them all into PASTE!!

It's what he did best...

Zhevra had used the last of her mana to travel only a few hundred yalms... but she could make it work.

As injured as she was... she was confident in escaping the Iron-Rank crew of Neptune's Revenge, even if they had ten times their number.

"They'll pay for this..."

She got onto her hands and knees before vomiting a fresh spew of blood...

"They will *all* pay for this..."

Zhevra unstoppered two healing potions on her belt, forcing herself to drink them in succession. Her body grew hot... healing her injuries-- though her stomach roiled with sickness.

She grabbed a new magazine and tried to load her weapon... but it was useless. The barrel was jammed. It would need more than a simple tap and rack to clear it.

She closed her eyes and cursed Stickyfingers once more.

Her vengeance would come later...

She swore it.

Once she returned to land, she would use ALL her connections to kill him and EVERY. LAST. member of the Neptune's Revenge!

...

Stickyfingers rubbed the rough, porous skin of his forehead.

It was a real risky move for him to grab onto Zhevra's tail. Lucky for him, though, the horned bird chopped off one of her own appendages to get away.

Kinda stupid, honestly.

It would've been a better plan if she aimed at his wrist-- his fingers, even.

It was good she didn't though.

Stickyfingers needed his hands for looting things and stabbing folks.

...Or the other way around, depending on what was going on.

The other Coral Boys started coming out of the trees, each of them laughing at the horned girl's sloppy go at legging it or complaining about forest sticks riding up their arses-- probably both.

Some of them were just making noise because that's what they did. Most of the boys weren't quiet types.

"Shut yer gobs, the lot of you!!" Petty Officer Bob roared above the din.

"EhehHIHI!! Look at 'er RUNNN!!" Wonderboy cackled.

Ah, Wonderboy.

Stupid, stupid Wonderboy. Even stupider than Zhevra, he was.

Everyone had already quieted down when Wonderboy's dumb, peach-pocked arse laugh rang loud and clear.

It was like he wanted to be beaten.

"Da lass won't get far," Bob growled.

The beefy bloke smacked Wonderboy upside the head-- exactly as he deserved.

Wonderboy rubbed his temple indignantly... "Wh... why's 'at d'oh?"

Bob puffed up his chest, looming over the smaller Coral Boy-- real intimidating-like.

"You questionin' me, boyo? An' understand dat da wrong answer is gonna get you 'urt. Real 'urt... really... f*ckin'... 'urt."

That was Petty Officer Bob. Real good at convincing, Bob was.

Wonderboy finally shut his gob. Either the one or three braincells he had finally shone through or he figured he didn't wanna get hurt again.

"Leads!!" Bob yelled, "Tell Wonderboy why da girlie won't get far."

"...Ahem," Stickyfingers coughed into his closed fist. "Da 'orned girl's only got one eye. Ishmael took care o' dat."

"An' tell 'em WHY 'at's IMPORTANT!!" Bob insisted.

Ah. That was right. If only that much was explained, then Wonderboy wouldn't be able to understand.

"It's taken away her periph'ral vision," Stickyfingers explained. "Ya need bowf eyes ta judge da distance from objects in front o' ya's... so she'll keep stumblin' fru rocks an' tree roots if'n she doesn't figure it out."

"YEAH!!" Bob grinned, "At's e-ZACTLY roight! Stupid Wonderboy... even you'z got betta peripheries 'an da leggy 'ore."

Wonderboy nodded real fast, real quick to agree, "Makes sense, Bob. Makes a lot of sense."

Stickyfingers raised an eyebrow. Maybe that one *was* getting smarter.

Even a little bit of growth was worth celebrating.

...Bob stroked his chin with a thick hand, "Da girlie is real far away, doh, ain't she?"

"Should probably call fer Doc," Stickyfingers suggested.

"Wuh?" Bob furrowed his brows, "Yeah? Yeah... 'zactly as I was finkin..."