The ship rocked as it reached the threshold of the sea gate. White-capped waves, stirred into action by the cross-shore winds, battered the sea walls and were split by the ships passing through the gate, spraying salty foam into the air.


    The crew watched with bated breath, eyes turned up towards the towers that controlled the sea gate, as if waiting for it to fall on the ships below. Bloodcurdling screams pierced the frigid night air, and amped up the wild-eyed gaze of the coxswain as he began to increase the tempo of his counts, while quieting his voice as much as he could in the desperate hope they wouldn’t be heard.


    The oarsmen were more than willing to bear the strain, and heaved as readily as the coxswain demanded.


    Any mistaken hope that they would make it past the gate unscathed was soon to be dashed. As soon as the ship ahead of them cleared the channel through the sea gate, a single blur darker than the night itself plummeted from the heights above and landed onto the deck of the warship.


    A thick, brown mist trailed behind the thing, and strange shapes seemed to dance about within. Worse still, the fog seemed to hide within it hideous and grotesque faces that would fade and reappear with little to no rhyme or reason.


    The screams began anew almost as soon as the thing had landed.


    “DRAW YOUR BLADES, MEN! SHIELD WALL, ABOVE!” Ragnar shouted, and his men immediately responded.


    The gunners quickly assembled into groups and began chanting. Above their heads, an effervescent barrier sprung out like a roof over the top of their ship, and not a moment too soon. As soon as their ship passed beyond the threshold of the gate into the open sea, demons rained down upon the barrier, landing on it as if it were a floor.


    Hasted grendels and the eyeless cannatares howled in rage, as they beat relentlessly upon the barriers between them and meat below.


    “NOW!” Ragnar screamed, although his command was hardly needed. The crew didn’t hesitate to swing their blades towards the demons, slicing into the legs and feet of the fiends.


    With a roar, Ragnar’s axe lit up with electricity and pulsed as mana was poured in to reinforce the blade. Then, he leapt up and, with a swing as fast as the wind, cleaved the foot of one of the monstrosities clean off. The grendel collapsed and howled in anguish, as a dozen blades pierced through its back. A yellow gel-like liquid that smelled like sewage poured from the gaping wounds and pooled on the magical barrier.


    The other demons didn’t wait for their turn, and scrambled towards the edges of the barriers.


    “THE SEA, THE SEA!” The sergeant screamed out, waving his hands wildly. Fortunately for him, the gunners seemed to understand his intent, and quickly angled their spells. The frictionless barriers offered no holds or grips for the demons, and sent the monsters careening into the water.


    The grendels thrashed about in a fruitless fury, beating the water into a foam as their thick, dense bulk offered no advantages in the water. With a rage-fueled roar, they quickly began to sink under the rough waves.


    The cannatares proved to be much more adept in the water, and swam quickly with their bestial legs like some kind of aquatic hound. Their claws latched onto the side of the ship, as men shouted and rushed to the guard rails on either side.


    Each step of the beasts punched multiple holes through the wooden planks in the side, much the same as they had for the towers, as they raced upwards. The punctures led to small bursts of water to flow into the hull of the ship with each passing wave.


    “Haste!” Ragnar spat out quickly, and raced towards the starboard side. The moment the first ugly head crested the edge, he swung his axe, and loosed a spurt of blood from the neck of the beast as its severed head flew off.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    The other beasts treated the soldiers as little more than wet cardboard, as they clawed and bit through them like a giant hornet through a bee hive. Dismembered corpses were flung from the edge of the ship as the monsters forced their way aboard, charging ferociously through a relentless barrage of blades.


    Ragnar sped quickly to the next beast, and cleaved it in twain before it pounced onto another sailor knocked prone in the brawl. However, before he could catch his next breath, he grunted sharply in pain as a claw pierced through his shoulder and smashed him face-first into the deck.


    He howled, and desperately flipped around… just for the dead weight of the beast to collapse on top of him. The clash of blades and the sounds of rending flesh gave way to the wails of injured and dying men, while a high pitched cry echoed in the distance, echoing across the rolling ocean waves.


    Ragnar glanced at the large ice spike protruding from the tight-skinned head of the cannatare, and then towards the group of gunners and the sergeant, before shoving the beast off with an exhausted grunt.


    “Aye, that’ll do.” The harbormaster coughed, and spat out some blood. He could feel a warm drizzle from his certainly broken nose, and his lip was split open by his teeth on impact as well.


    The sergeant spared only a moment for a meek smile and slight nod of the head, and then quickly began barking orders, as the sailors and gunners rushed back into their posts. The ship that had been boarded first listed aimlessly in the water, as a silent brown cloud filled the entire deck.


    Ragnar’s ship had almost overtaken them during the course of the battle, and now they had almost come aligned with each other. His blood ran cold as he stared at the dense mist, and he instinctually reacted, as had the ships gunners.


    “BARRIER!” Ragnar screamed, as a barrage of cannon fire was launched at the derelict ship. A visceral howl pierced the air, and a new faceless horror leapt out from the cloud and far over the artillery blasts that shattered the lifeless ship.


    Long, fleshy fingers and webbed feet crashed into Ragnar’s barrier, barely a foot away from his face, as the thing hissed through rows of razor sharp teeth. Its skin was wet and rubbery, and seemed almost reflective as it had gotten close enough to catch the light of the ships torches.


    Its rib-cage seemed as if it had escaped from its body, yet the flesh inside showed no discernable organs. The fetid fog, however, flowed liberally from a large bone-and-flesh cage protruding from the creature’s back, along with a rapid, high-pitch squeal.


    The thing didn’t wait for Ragnar’s axe, and leapt immediately off the barrier with a seemingly frustrated grimace. It twisted through the air like a cat, and rushed towards the nearest group of men.


    The sergeant didn’t even get to scream before the things maw bit into his waist. It shook its head like a feral dog, as its teeth ripped into his gut. With one final shake, it tossed his ragged body aside and spilled his organs like confetti onto the deck.


    The gunners near him shrieked, as the brown fog poured around them and caused countless boils to erupt on their skin, in their mouths, under their eyelids and anywhere else it managed to touch. Laughing faces seemed to prance through the mist, making light of the pain and suffering of those near them.


    Ragnar howled in rage, and sprinted after the abomination, while his muscles exploded with mana and energy. He flanked to the side, in a bid to avoid the billowing clouds that flowed behind it, yet the creature took one look at him, and seemed to sneer before it charged up the stairway and launched itself directly at the helmsman. The man tried to dodge out of the way, but the creature was far quicker and grabbed the man with its gangly, fleshy hands.


    It lifted him up, almost as if showing off a prize to all who could see, while the helmsman swung his sword at the creature. With a wet thunk, the blade stuck into the abomination’s flesh… and stayed there. The helmsman strained to free the blade to no avail.


    Then… he unleashed an unearthly scream that drowned out a nearly simultaneous screech, as the sound of his tearing flesh and cracking bones filled the air and continued until Ragnar leapt onto the helm. Then, as if waiting for him, the monster ripped the man in half, splurging out a rain of red, bloody gore and viscera before chucking the lifeless halves at the raging barbarian.


    Ragnar swung with his free arm, batting the bloodied corpse to the side as he tried to charge again. The thing seemed to sneer once more, and leapt over Ragnar, as if toying with a helpless child, and rushed towards the surviving crew.


    “NO! NOT AGAIN, NEVER AGAIN!” Ragnar screamed, pleaded… begged, as even with all his magic, and all his years of pathological, relentless training… he felt as helpless as that cursed day seared into his memory.


    The fog descended on him, and his eyes blurred with water against his will and searing pain erupted from his skin. Yet still he charged forward, as blisters crowded into his ears and strained his hearing and his vision began to turn dark. Yet even through that, he could hear the next screech, as clear as day.


    With it came a powerful gust of searing hot wind, blasting away the fog. Then, a woman dressed in red and black dropped from the sky.