Archer stood on the balcony, the early morning air cool against his sweat-slicked skin, still flushed from making love to the two women. His gaze narrowed as movement flickered on the horizon, a dozen pirate ships cutting through the waves, their course set for the DTS White Storm.
A raid was coming. His jaw tightened, ready to act, when explosions illuminated the sea. The Draconia Navy surged into view, three sleek Destroyers slicing through the rough waters. Their cannons roared, unleashing precise mana shells that tore into the pirate vessels at the back, reducing them to ruin before sinking.
He leaned against the rail, his eyes tracking the chaos happening on the horizon. The Destroyers pressed their attack, hulls cutting through the sea like blades. Mana shells streaked across the sky, each one a pinpoint of light that erupted into devastating blasts upon impact.
