Chapter Fifty-Seven: Enemy and Allied Snipers

A precise long-range shot signaled the opening of tonight’s events.

As Tattam uttered a gasp of amazement, Maud, his expression unchanged, calmly reloaded his musket. The ten or so seconds it took to reload gave the Spiny Bull Pirates ample time to respond. Each man, according to his own judgment, ducked behind what seemed to him a suitable cover.

This was an unavoidable shortcoming for now. Had he been wielding a modern firearm, Maud was confident he could have downed several more targets before they made it to cover in those ten seconds.

“Keep an eye on our surroundings,” Maud reminded, then returned his attention to his next prey.

One flaw of the flintlock musket was its conspicuous muzzle flash and smoke. The first shot not only startled those nearby but also roughly revealed his position. Yet it was only an approximate direction.

Thus, in their haste, the Spiny Bull Pirates’ choice of cover was less than ideal; parts of their bodies remained exposed to the line of fire.

With Tattam and Wolf Rat covering him, Maud had no need to worry about threats in his immediate vicinity and could focus solely on selecting his next target.

Soon enough, he fixed his gaze on a pirate who had carelessly revealed half his body. Maud took aim, but did not immediately pull the trigger. Holding his breath, he let his senses sharpen until the blurred feeling crystallized. Only then did he fire.

Another gunshot rang out.

On the distant deck, the pirate who had exposed himself toppled with a shriek. The lead ball struck his chest—not a fatal wound, but without prompt treatment, death would surely follow.

In such circumstances, none of the pirates dared to risk their own lives to help him.

Wells, however, did not spare a glance for his fallen comrade, his attention fixed unwaveringly on the direction from which the bullet had come. Spotting the distant muzzle flash, he swiftly raised his rifled musket and, in a single breath, took aim at Maud’s location.

The sea wind lashed his face, making his eyes twitch.

“Damn, it’s a headwind…”

But he didn’t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger and immediately ducked behind cover.

On the warehouse roof—

Thud!

A lead projectile, fired from the docks, struck the opposite eaves of the warehouse roof, a good several meters from Maud.

Wolf Rat and Tattam, hearing the impact, immediately looked toward the point of impact.

The enemy had begun to fight back…

To locate him so quickly was no mean feat; clearly, the shooter was no novice. It had to be one of the Spiny Bull Pirates’ officers—Wells, just as expected.

A pity for them…

They glanced at Maud, seeing that he had nearly finished reloading. They wanted to speak up and warn him but worried it would disrupt his concentration, so remained silent.

Maud loaded his third shot, his composure unshaken, and set his musket once more.

Aim, fire!

Bang!

Another pirate on the Spiny Bull Pirates’ deck fell, not a fatal wound, yet deadly enough.

Three of their number had now fallen in quick succession. The remaining pirates, fearful and unsettled, instinctively turned their eyes to Wells and the other marksmen.

In this duel of gunners, those trained for close combat could be of no help. All they could do was hope their own sharpshooters could eliminate the enemy quickly. Otherwise, they were nothing but sitting ducks.

Feeling the weight of his comrades’ anxious gazes, Wells and the other shooters gritted their teeth and fired several shots toward Maud’s position.

Yet with the wind against them, and despite the rifled musket’s superior range and accuracy over Maud’s smoothbore, they struggled to pose a real threat.

In the ensuing exchanges, four more Spiny Bull Pirates fell.

Gradually, the pirates realized their own snipers were being suppressed—by the frequency of the enemy’s shots, it was evident there was only one foe.

Outnumbering their opponent, yet being outmatched.

They felt a growing terror at the enemy’s prowess, and mounting despair in their own marksmen.

Gafton, lean and wiry, half-crouched behind the mast, one hand on his sword hilt, watched Wells’s position calmly. From where he sat, he could even see Wells’s tense and sullen profile.

Gafton was the leader of the melee fighters; he had no desire to see his men cut down without ever having drawn their blades. He could not spare Wells’s pride at this moment.

“Wells, if you can’t outshoot him, cover us while we find better cover,” he barked.

“All right,” Wells snarled, his face tightening.

He assumed command of the situation, directing several of his gunners to lay down covering fire on Maud, while guiding the close-combat fighters toward the safest positions his experience could determine.

The cost: one of his own marksmen took a bullet to the head.

Ten shots fired, two of their own dead, six gravely wounded.

An eighty percent hit rate—a statistic that chilled Wells to the bone.

And this was just one enemy.

If the crew’s chief sniper felt this way, the others could only be worse off.

It was a stark contrast between the two sides’ marksmen.

Gafton, however, remained composed. He looked toward the captain’s cabin and called, “Captain, shall we hold our ground or should I take a few men and eliminate the sniper?”

A moment later, Kazzt’s voice came from within.

“Go.”

Two short syllables, yet they seethed with wrath on the verge of erupting.

Fortunately, Kazzt did not know the identity of the enemy sniper—or he might have burst his stitches in a fit of rage.

With the captain’s permission, Gafton signaled a few men, then turned to Wells.

“Cover us.”

“Understood,” Wells replied, taking a deep breath to smother his sense of humiliation.

Under cover from Wells and the other shooters, Gafton led five men off the ship, advancing toward Maud’s position.

On the warehouse roof—

Maud reloaded as he watched several figures disembark from the Spiny Bull Pirate ship.

A mere meter in front of him, a bullet hole was visible—the closest any shot had come during the firefight.

“Wolf Rat, it’s time,” Maud called.

Wolf Rat nodded. “Be careful.”

With that, he and Tattam leapt down from the warehouse, moving to intercept Gafton’s team.

As Wolf Rat and Tattam departed, Maud finished reloading. He raised his musket once more and aimed at the Spiny Bull Pirates’ deck.

In his sights: Wells’s cover.

“Got you now, my dear prey,” Maud murmured with a smile, paying no mind to the bullets whistling past him.

The rate of enemy fire increased markedly—but Maud knew Wells and his men were sacrificing accuracy for suppression, aiming only to create an opening for Gafton’s squad.

With his wealth of gunfight experience, Maud saw through it at once.

“But I have a capable fighter on my side as well,” Maud mused quietly. If Tattam was counted, he had two.

He fired a shot almost carelessly toward the Spiny Bull Pirates’ deck, then left his position, reloading as he moved to his next sniping point.

From now on, his only target would be Wells.

Meanwhile, the firefight had drawn many spectators.

In the shadows around the Spiny Bull Pirates’ ship, lookouts from several pirate crews watched intently.

“Finally, someone’s made a move—and…”

“That sniper… which crew is he from? He’s terrifyingly strong!”

Like sharks scenting blood, the lookouts bared their teeth.

Once the opportunity presented itself, the once-invincible Spiny Bull Pirates would become nothing more than a delicious morsel.