ALVIDA

"Drown them, Sea Devils! The spoils belong to us!"

Alvida is an strength-based ranger hero of the Lightbearer faction.

Rot and sea salt hung in the Rustport breeze, drifting over the Phantom Maw's deck as waves pounded the hull.

Alvida stood at the bow, eyes locked on the endless blue. Beneath her, the Phantom Maw creaked and swayed- a ship flying the flag of Rustport's most feared crew, the Sea Devils. Cunning and cruel, they hunted merchant ships and slipped past the Empire 's blockade, hauling their spoils back to the black market.

But that wasn't enough for Alvida. A pirate's life came down to one truth: hunt, or be hunted. This time, their mark was a merchant ship loaded with gold and spice.

Foreign traders crossed these waters often and the Sea Devils lurked in the dark, striking under cover of storms and darkness to seize what they claimed as their due.

"Captain! Movement ahead!"

The lookout's shout snapped Alvida back to the present. She raised her spyglass- and saw warships cutting fast across the waves.

The Thousand Sail Fleet. The shining blade of the Lightbearer Empire's navy and every pirate's worst nightmare. Their flagship, the Torchbearer, loomed like a floating fortress, its cannons lined up in perfect formation, ready to unleash hell. Standing tall on its deck was none other than Admiral Jerome-the Empire's master tactician, and the man behind the blood-soaked nightmare that had scarred her past.

For a split second, the years fell away.

She'd grown up in a small fishing village, poor but peaceful. Then came the night the Thousand Sail Fleet swept through, hunting pirates. A misfire from the Torchbearer veered off-course... straight into her home. The flames devoured everything. Her family. Her childhood. Everything. Orphaned, she stumbled through the wreckage and eventually made her way to Rustport, a place that offered no pity, only survival. She curled up in the filthiest corners to keep warm, enduring beatings and cold stares, growing up in a world that didn't care if she lived or died.

Buts she never gave in. She remembered standing on the docks, watching pirate ships loaded with spoils sail into harbor, the Sea Devils' flag snapping in the wind. In this world, no one listened to the cries of the weak. Only the strong could take back what was stolen from them.

One stormy night, she cut off her hair, wrapped herself in a tattered cloak to hide her identity, and snuck aboard the Phantom Maw as it lay anchored outside the port. No one cared who she was. She was just another lowly deckhand-hauling cargo, scrubbing decks, doing the dirtiest jobs without complaint. Because out at sea, the Weak had only two fates: be cast overboard, or be killed.

She watched. She learned. She mastered

every skill onboard, even how to fight. Her grit and guts caught the old captain's eye, and he promoted her to first mate. Then came a brutal clash with the Thousand Sail Fleet. The captain took a cannonball and died on the spot. In the chaos, Alvida seized command and led the crew through enemy fire to escape.

That day changed everything. From then on, her fate was tied to the Phantom Maw. And she swore never again would anyone drag her back into the dark.

Cannons roared. The Thousand Sail Fleet closed in like a steel tide, cutting off any escape.

"Hard to port!" she shouted. The crew scrambled across the deck, tightening ropes, pulling sails. The Phantom Maw lurched violently in the waves.

Panic spread among the crew. This route was new and no one should've known they'd be here. The Empire's ships shouldn't have been lying in wait.

Unless.. someone tipped them off.

"Northwest! Into the sea fog!" Alvida

barked.

The helmsman adjusted course, swinging the ship hard into a wall of thick mist.

Behind them, the Torchbearer's guns thundered again. Water exploded around them, but the Phantom Maw slipped into the fog just in time, vanishing from sight.

But the fog could only hide them so long. The Thousand Sail Fleet lurked just outside, waiting for a mistake. If they didn't break through, the Phantom Maw would be blasted to splinters.

In the shroud of mist, a tense silence settled.

Alvida studied the sea chart and noticed an odd mark.

She said nothing. Instead, her gaze swept the deck-until it stopped on Adolf. A veteran of the old captain's crew. Calm. Reliable. But right now his eyes wouldn't n meet hers.

"Adolf," she said quietly. "Did you see any strange lights during your night watch?"

He froze. A drop of sweat slid down his temple. "N-no. I didn't see any lights on the deck."

Alvida let out a quiet laugh. "Funny... never said where the light came from."

The air turned to ice. The crew glanced around uneasily, the tension thick enough to cut. They could smell danger.

"Someone spotted a faint flash on deck last night," Alvida continued. "Looked like some kind of long-range signal." She paused, letting the silence stretch. "And wouldn't you know it... you had the night watch."

"I was on duty," Adolf snapped. "But I didn't see any damn signal!"

Alvida didn't bother arguing. She raised a hand for the crew to unroll the chart, then tapped a faint yellowed mark. "And how do you explain this change?"

Everyone leaned in. The mark sat just off the planned route, nearly hidden beneath the final page of their sailing log. A thin scrape-subtle, deliberate. Someone had tried to alter the course... and then cover it up.

Her eyes narrowed. "Only three people touch the charts. Me. The helmsman. And..."

Her gaze landed on Adolf.

The crew remembered the flash. The missing log entry. And Adolf, who'd been the only one on deck.

A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple. He clenched his fists, digging nails into his sleeves, but said nothing. Then the hands came, rough and fast. The crew tackled him, slamming him to the deck.

"Still want to lie? You thought handing over our route to Jerome would earn you mercy?"

Adolf spat. "You're just a woman! What gives you the right to command the Phantom Maw? If the old captain were still here..."

Alvida had heard it all before. Whispers behind her back. Rumors that she'd clawed her way to the helm with tricks and treachery. That she only survived by pure luck. That she'd sold her soul to the drowned dead beneath the sea. None of it mattered. On this ship, the dead didn't speak.

The night wind swept across the deck. Adolf was dragged away and a splash followed, echoing out into the mist.

Alvida turned back to the bow. Beyond the fog, the Thousand Sail Fleet still lurked, gliding silently through the dark. Two choices remained: wait and hope they weren't spotted... or gamble everything and break through.

She looked to her crew. Her voice rang sharp and clear. "All hands-listen up."

"Drop sail. Adjust our heading. We're riding the wind." She scanned the sky, calculating. "Gunners, on standby. The moment we're through the mist, give them a proper greeting."

The Phantom Maw surged forward, roaring through the fog like a predator unleashed.

"Fire the flare!" Flames shot into the sky. The fleet spotted them, ships shifting, cannons swinging to bear.. but they were too slow.

The Phantom Maw burst from the fogbank, and its first volley slammed straight into the side of a warship.

"To the southeast! Full speed!"

The crew grit their teeth as they hauled lines and braced the sails. The ship tore through the waves, outrunning the fleet in a blur of wind and spray.

By dawn, the Empire's ships were just specks on the horizon, swallowed by distance.

As day broke, the storm had passed and the ocean calmed.

The crew worked the ropes and tidied the deck, but their eyes kept returning to the lone figure at the bow.

Alvida hadn't moved, still watching the horizon. Once, they'd questioned her.

Whispered behind her back. Now they'd seen her with their own eyes- how she thought, how she moved, how she fought. No one doubted her anymore.

The Phantom Maw was hers now, completely and without question. But Alvida had her sights set on something far greater.

The seas were restless still, but this ocean would have its queen.