Jake moved through the fighting with his enhanced physicality, making him faster and stronger than most of the opponents he encountered, his fists and feet doing damage that conventional human strength couldn’t match. He caught a pirate’s sword arm mid-swing and twisted until bone broke with an audible crack, then followed with a knee to the man’s chest that sent him stumbling backward into two of his companions.

A Class II warrior emerged from the chaos—Jake’s blood sense registered him before his eyes did, the power signature distinct enough to cut through the general noise of combat.

The man was huge, built like someone had taken the concept of a brawler and scaled it up twenty percent, with arms that looked like they could bend steel bars and a chest broad enough that his leather armor had clearly been custom-made to fit.

He carried a warhammer that was proportionally sized to match his frame, the head of it wrapped in chain that jangled with each movement.

He looked at Jake with the flat assessment of a professional recognizing another professional and raised the warhammer in a gesture that was half salute and half challenge.

"Young man," the big man said, his voice carrying a roughness that suggested years of shouting orders over wind and waves.

"Heard about you from the Queen. She said you’d be interesting to fight."

"She talks about me?" Jake asked, already moving into a fighting stance.

"She talks about everyone she’s interested in," the warrior said.

"Name’s Grevik. I’m the Darkwhale’s first mate and the Queen’s left hand when it comes to people who need hitting."

He rolled his shoulders, loosening muscles. "Let’s see if you’re as dangerous as the reports suggest."

Grevik charged with surprising speed for someone his size, the warhammer coming around in a horizontal arc that would cave in Jake’s ribs if it connected.

Jake used Shadow Step to pull himself through darkness to a position behind the big man, already throwing a punch at where Grevik’s kidney would be, but the first mate had apparently fought people with teleportation abilities before because he was already turning, the warhammer reversing direction mid-swing to meet Jake’s attack.

The hammer’s chain wrapped around Jake’s extended arm and Grevik yanked, pulling Jake off balance and toward him.

Jake went with the momentum instead of fighting it, using the pull to close distance and drive his knee into Grevik’s midsection with enough force that the big man’s breath came out in a whoosh.

Grevik released the chain and backhanded Jake with his free hand, the blow catching Jake across the jaw and sending him stumbling sideways.

Jake’s enhanced durability meant the hit didn’t break anything, but stars exploded across his vision, and his bloodline regeneration immediately started working on the damage.

They circled each other for a moment, both reassessing.

Grevik’s initial charge had been a test—Jake understood that now. The big man was gauging speed and strength and tactical thinking, seeing what kind of fighter Jake was before committing to serious offense.

"You’re strong," Grevik said, and there was approval in his voice.

"Stronger than most Class II."

"Thanks," Jake said, working his jaw to make sure it still operated correctly.

"Your hammer’s impressive. Custom work?"

"Dwarven smith in the northern mountains," Grevik said.

"Cost me three years of prize shares, but worth every coin." He raised the weapon again.

"Shall we continue?"

They fought across the Darkwhale’s deck for five minutes of brutal close-quarters exchange, where Jake’s speed and unconventional abilities competed against Grevik’s overwhelming strength and decades of combat experience.

Jake used Shadow Step to create angles, his shadow serpents to restrict Grevik’s movement, and his enhanced physicality to hit harder than his frame suggested he should.

Grevik used reach and power and the tactical intelligence of someone who had fought on ship decks his entire adult life, using rails and masts and rigging as weapons or obstacles, depending on what the moment required.

The warhammer caught Jake across the left side—not a full hit but a glancing blow that still felt like being struck by a battering ram. Jake’s ribs protested loudly and he tasted copper in his mouth but he stayed on his feet and retaliated with a combination strike that caught Grevik in the throat and chest, driving the bigger man backward three steps.

A shadow serpent wrapped around Grevik’s hammer arm and Jake pressed the advantage, closing distance while the construct restricted movement, his fists working the first mate’s midsection with rapid strikes that accumulated damage even if none of them individually were fight-ending.

Grevik headbutted him—a sudden forward snap of his massive skull that caught Jake on the forehead and made the world go bright and sparkly for several seconds—and followed with a shoulder charge that sent Jake sliding backward across the deck until he caught himself on a railing.

They separated again, both breathing hard, both bloodied but functional. Jake’s bloodline regeneration was working overtime to keep him standing, closing cuts and reducing swelling faster than natural healing would allow.

Grevik was less damaged but moving more carefully, favoring his left side where Jake’s strikes had accumulated bruising.

"Good, you are good," Grevik said, and he sounded genuinely pleased despite the damage he was taking.

"Haven’t had a fight this entertaining in months."

"It’s not over yet," Jake said and activated Shadow Serpent Manifestation again, pulling from reserves that were getting dangerously low but still present enough to matter.

Six more constructs materialized around Grevik in a circle, their bodies coiling upward from shadow-pools that had spread across the deck during the fighting. The first mate looked at them and his eyes widened slightly as he realized what was about to happen.

"Bind!" Jake hissed, and the shadow serpents struck simultaneously.

They wrapped around Grevik’s limbs and torso with coordinated precision, their shadowy bodies stronger than their appearance suggested, constricting with a force that even the first mate’s considerable strength couldn’t immediately overcome.

Grevik roared and strained against the binding, muscles bunching, the warhammer dropping from nerveless fingers as a shadow serpent’s fangs found his forearm and injected venom that spread paralysis through his system.