An impossible impact jolts the deck and everyone upon it.
Rumble rumble.
A subterranean tremor? But they’re floating on gentle undulating waves, not on land.
Yuuri, gaze fixed downward, ignores Conrad’s proffered hand and walks forward on unsteady feet as everyone looks around for the source.
He lifts his eyes when he reaches the approximate center of the deck and stares sharply at the man right in front of him with the one black eye not obscured by contacts.
“...Yuuri?” Wolfram calls, forgetting his alias, but Yuuri doesn’t seem to hear.
Taken aback, he grabs Yuuri’s hand. With the exception of his index finger, it’s icy cold.
“Conrart, he...”
“Yes. But it is out of our hands now.”
Perhaps not even Yuuri can control it.
“...You attack a helpless ship, destroying and plundering all. You insist on following the path of evil.”
Both his voice and tone have changed. It’s really too bad he has no topknot.
“Rather than engaging in honorable combat, you take prisoners with cowardly tricks. You even dare turn your blades upon the weak and claim them as your possessions.”
Rumble rumble rumble.
The noise accompanying the tremors seems to be approaching rather than getting louder.
Taken aback by the transformation in their young prisoner, the pirates gather around their chief looking for direction. Yuuri’s burning index finger snaps to point right at the bearded old man in the sailor uniform.
“You will pay for your impudence!”
Those forceful words, coming from someone who is usually agog at everything, seem to belong to someone else altogether. In fact, they could even rival Gwendal’s manner for kingliness.
He’s posed exactly like a model.
“O fools who have no pride as seamen! I have no desire for the taking of lives, but you leave me no other choice: I will cut you down!”
Wolfram scowls. This is a humiliating memory for him.
“He got me with that, too.”
“It was pretty harsh, huh?”
“But this is different from then. We are in the territory of the Humans, the Elements should be limited here.”
“That concerns me too, but...”
Magical power is intrinsic to the soul. Only those born with it are able to form a covenant with the Elements of the natural world, to command and manipulate them in order to perform sorcery. But this is the territory of the god-worshipping humans, and the Particles that obey the Mazoku are extremely sparse.
Though if he’s really planning to cut them down, using a sword would work just as well.
“Judgment!”
Rumble rumble rumble rumble rumble.
The pirates near the entrance to the cabin scream, their voices shrill with fear.
The source of the rumbling is now revealed.
They advance onto the deck at top speed and begin crawling up the bodies of their chosen pirates.
Crawl?! Screams fill the area.
Rattling bits of animal bones, the scattered leftovers from the passengers’ meals and discarded remains from the kitchen, swarm the entire surface of the deck floor like insects or mice or hermit crabs. From tiny bird- and fish-bones to the ribs and enormous craniums of cows, every single bone has come seeking its revenge.
“Woah...th-that is the first time I’ve seen sorcery in such bad taste...”
“Gyaaah, they’re coming! Conrart, they’re heading in this direction! Do something! Do something!”
Wolfram jumps about like a lobster on a hotplate at the grotesque scene. Bones break apart into sharp fragments beneath his frantic feet.
“Don’t move, keep still. Think of it as letting a scorpion or poisonous spider pass.”
“Agh! They’re they’re they’re climbing!”
“Keep your composure.”
Rather difficult for anyone who doesn’t have nerves of steel.
The only reason the passengers and crew are quiet is because most of them have already fainted. The pirates are blubbering and howling in agony under the attack. They’re being scratched and chewed and stuck through, their mouths filled with other people’s half-eaten discards.
The pirate chief has tumbled down from the box platform with chicken bones thrust up his nose and into his ears. He’s fallen to his knees in his terror and is trying to crawl away from Yuuri.
“H-he’s the devil, the devil—!”
“Devil?! Do you yet fail to recognize my face?”
In front of him is the word “justice,” formed not from people standing in marching band formation, but from bones.
He is not the devil, but the Demon King.
The women watching from the deck of the pirate ship cheer in the light of the torches.
“It’s a ship, it’s the Cimarron patrol ship!”
Yuuri’s fiery, glittering right eye picks out the light over the waves.
Scattered dry ruptures come from the bone army as his will leaves it. The bones stop moving.
The Maou turns to the pirates with all appropriate dignity. “Repent of your actions, and be prepared to atone with the ultimate punishment!”
He sways and starts to pitch forward.
“...Which sentence I will pass at a later date.”
All present are certain that they will have nightmares that night.