Chapter 128
Trish didn't do subtle.
Which meant that the moment her bright orange-sailed ship docked at the capital's harbor, she exploded onto the scene like a cannonball in very cool boots.
Her crew poured off the ship in an organized frenzy, yelling, whooping, firing crossbows and pistols at anything that hissed or howled. Cannonballs roared from the ship behind them, blasting into cultists and shadow beasts like they were clearing space for a picnic.
I barely had time to duck as an entire beast was blown sideways into a fruit stall, which flattened like a pancake under the weight of the monster.
Trish came striding through the smoke and chaos, her coat flapping dramatically, a grin plastered across her face like she was having the time of her life. Her sword gleamed at her side. Her hat, somehow, had remained perfectly angled atop her thick hair.
"There's my favorite storm cloud!" she hollered.
I braced myself.
