Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 70: Strip the ship

The battle raged, relentless and punishing. The deck of the Sea Phantom had become a scene of carnage—splintered wood, broken barrels, and fallen bodies. Screams echoed across the ship as the clash of steel against steel grew louder with each passing moment. But despite their bravery, the tide of the battle slowly began to turn in favor of the pirates.

Jason had been holding his own, his golden staff spinning through the air with deadly precision. But eventually, two burly pirates tackled him from behind while a third knocked the staff out of his hand with a club. He struggled, but they beat him to the deck and bound his arms.

Eleanor fought like a ghost in the chaos—efficient, swift, and deadly. But even she couldn’t keep up with the sheer number of enemies. She managed to down two more with a dagger to the throat and a quick slash across another’s stomach, but the fourth one struck her with the butt of his sword. She stumbled, and before she could recover, they were on her. Her sword was wrenched from her hand, and soon she too was dragged, bruised and restrained, to the center of the deck.

Marcus was a wall of rage and pain, his arm still throbbing from the earlier cannonball graze, but that didn’t stop him from swinging his axe like a madman. Still, his blows became slower, more labored. He took down two more pirates before they swarmed him, yanked his weapon from his grasp, and struck him across the jaw. He spat out blood and curses, but they forced him to his knees, binding him next to Jason and Eleanor.

Captain Ander fought to the bitter end. His wooden leg stomped across the deck as he barked commands and roared in fury, striking with a short cutlass. But it was no use. A pirate clubbed him hard across the side of the head, and his hat flew off as he dropped to one knee. Blood streamed down his temple. He tried to rise, but another hit drove him down completely. They tied his hands and threw him beside his crew, his breath shallow, his pride wounded far deeper than his body.

From across the deck, Liam saw it all.

His heart pounded in his ears as he watched his friends fall, one by one. Panic surged through his chest like a fire. He couldn’t win this. Not here. Not now. His hands trembled around the hilt of his sword as his mind raced.

"What do I do?"

He turned and ran.

Charging toward the rear of the ship, he slashed down two pirates who had been guarding the stern—one with a quick stab to the gut, the other with a clean sweep across the chest that sent him tumbling over the edge. Without hesitation, Liam sheathed his sword, climbed the railing, and dove into the cold, endless ocean below. The splash was swallowed by the sounds of battle behind him. The pirates didn’t notice. And if they did... none followed.

Von watched him go. The giant was surrounded, bleeding from the shoulder and panting from exhaustion. He had smashed more men than he could count, but even he had limits. The pirates had begun circling him, their weapons raised, their faces wary. One wrong move and they’d slit every throat on the deck. He looked over at his captured friends. Jason’s eye was already swelling. Eleanor’s face was set in quiet fury. Marcus had blood running down his lip.

Von exhaled a growl and dropped his club with a heavy thud.

He surrendered.

Across the ship, the pirates were dragging crew members out of hiding. Some had tried to wedge themselves into storage compartments and behind crates. Others, like Sera and the Dwarf, had found better cover—but not good enough. They were dragged into the open at blade-point and shoved to their knees beside the others.

Sera looked terrified but silent, her eyes wide and frantic.

The Dwarf, however, tried to protest. "I-I was making a plan! You don’t understand—"

"Coward," Marcus spat through gritted teeth, blood dripping from his mouth. "You slimy, greedy bastard."

Jason nodded stiffly. "You’re everything that’s wrong with the world."

The Dwarf lowered his head but didn’t argue. He couldn’t.

Then came Sophia.

She had been hidden high on the mast, trying to snipe pirates from above, her arrows flying true. But when she saw her friends beaten and bloodied—Captain Ander gagged and bound, Eleanor and Jason held at sword-point, Mariel in tears behind them—she froze. And then she heard the voice.

"Come down now... or I’ll start killing them."

Droskyn.

The man stood tall in the center of the deck, a cruel grin stretched across his scarred face. His teeth were yellow and jagged, his long coat wet and soaked in blood. His one eye glinted under his wide-brimmed hat. A wicked cutlass rested casually over his shoulder.

Sophia’s stomach twisted.

She looked down at her friends.

And then she climbed down, slowly, her bow lowered, surrendering herself.

"Good girl," Droskyn sneered.

Then he turned, and his eyes landed on Mariel.

The grin widened.

Mariel, pale and trembling, stood beside her bound father. She tried to back away, but Droskyn was already in front of her. He reached out, his fingers brushing her face with mock gentleness, and she flinched. His eyes roamed her face, and then his tongue ran slowly along his cracked lips.

"Pretty little thing," he muttered.

Captain Ander, despite his restraints, surged forward. "Touch her and I’ll gut you myself, Droskyn!"

The pirate only laughed.

Then, without warning, he smacked Ander across the face with the back of his hand. The old captain’s head snapped sideways, blood spitting from his mouth.

Droskyn turned back to Mariel and grabbed her roughly by the back of the neck, yanking her close. "Now, let’s see what else you’re hiding..."

He leaned in and licked the side of her neck, slow and vile.

Mariel’s face contorted with disgust. She shuddered violently, then suddenly twisted her body and kicked backward, her heel smashing into Droskyn’s dick.

He let out a sharp growl of pain, buckling slightly.

"You little—!"

He raised his hand and kicked her hard across the stomach.

Mariel gasped, her breath knocked out of her, and fell to the floor, curling in pain. Her whimper tore through the hearts of everyone who knew her.

Captain Ander was shaking, trying to break free from his restraints. "I’ll kill you! I swear it on the gods, I’ll kill you!"

But Droskyn just laughed again, dark and loud.

The rest of the group stared in silence, rage burning in their eyes—but none said a word.

As the last echoes of Mariel’s pained whimper faded across the deck, a heavy silence settled over the battered crew. The smell of smoke, blood, and sea salt thickened the air like a suffocating fog. The wind had died down, and only the creaking of the damaged mast and the groans of injured sailors filled the quiet moments between the pirates’ jeering.

Jason, bruised and bound, turned his head slowly, scanning the gathered faces. "Where’s... Liam?" he whispered, breathless.

Sophia, kneeling nearby with her wrists tied in front of her, blinked, still shaken. She looked around. "I didn’t... I don’t see him."

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. Her lip was bloodied but her gaze sharp. "He was fighting at the back earlier..."

They all realized it at once—Liam was gone.

"Did he fall?" Sera asked in a hushed tone, her voice cracking.

"Or worse..." Jason muttered, already fearing the worst.

But Marcus, even as he clutched his injured arm and winced with every movement, didn’t look worried. He was quiet at first, then lifted his head. A slow, crooked smile stretched across his face.

"He’s out there," Marcus said, his voice calm but firm. "I don’t know how, but I can feel it. He’s not gone."

They all looked at him, surprised.

"He’s still fighting," Marcus continued in a whisper. "Just... not here."

For a moment, there was a flicker of hope in their eyes, a shared understanding among the battered group. Even Von, who was slumped in chains nearby, glanced toward the ocean, his expression unreadable.

They dared not say anything aloud—there were too many pirates around. But beneath their breath, they whispered to one another, speaking Liam’s name like it was a spark in the dark, the last bit of fire they could hold on to.

Then, heavy boots clomped across the deck again.

Droskyn, striding confidently with his coat flapping in the breeze, raised his arms and grinned like a man who thought himself invincible. He stood before the defeated crew like a king before his court, gloating in the ruin he had caused.

"Do you see now?" he shouted, his voice filled with pride and arrogance. "This is the power of Droskyn, Scourge of the Southern Waters, the Black Wave of the Endless Sea!"

The pirates cheered around him, spitting overboard, laughing like dogs that had found their next meal.

"I’ve sunk hundreds of ships!" Droskyn went on. "Cut down men, women, and even little boys who thought they could sail my waters without paying the price."

He turned toward Captain Ander, who was being forced to sit upright against the mainmast, arms tied behind his back, face bloodied and grim.

"You remember what I did to Captain Varros?" Droskyn chuckled darkly. "Skinned him. Took his beard as a prize. Or what about Lady Roane, eh? Put her head on a pike outside Port Halgar."

He leaned in closer to Ander now, voice low and venomous.

"And now... Captain Ander of the Sea Phantom. Ha!" He laughed. "I think your wooden leg will make a nice little addition to my trophy wall."

The crew growled under their breath. Jason struggled against his bonds. Sophia glared with pure hatred. Von clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

"You’re filth," Ander hissed, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Droskyn only smirked and turned his back on him, stretching his arms as he addressed his crew again.

"Strip the ship! Take every last bit of gold, every barrel of rum, every scrap of iron or sailcloth! Leave them nothing but their screams!"

The pirates roared in celebration.