Blake allowed his men a moment to revel in their victory, their laughter and jeers rising above the crackling flames. The sight of the Imperials flailing in the fire, their discipline reduced to desperate screams, was a welcome one. But he knew better than to let them linger in their triumph.
The second enemy vessel was closing in—fast. The ship on the right, the one whose boarding attempt they had stalled, was now gaining ground. The Imperials aboard it had adjusted their course, using the Roaring Axe's distraction to creep into striking distance. Their archers were already lining up along the rails, ready to unleash a deadly volley.
Blake's grin vanished.
"Enough cheering!" he roared, his voice like a thunderclap over the deck. "You want to live to gloat about this later?! Then get your shields up and your blades ready! We've got more company!"