(PS: Please support me on patreon there 135+ chapters there and there also my new GoT: The True Dragon Fanfiction of Game of Thrones
https://patreon.com/BX_XDS)
As the trio stepped inside Kleptous Bay, the first thing that hit them was the sheer, unnatural silence. The bay was usually a hive of chaotic industry—guards shouting orders, workers hauling crates, the ring of minor skirmishes bouncing off the sheer cliffs. But now? Nothing.
No guards manned the crumbling stone entrance. No patrols walked the dusty perimeter. The only movement was the hot wind, pushing swirls of dust across the empty ground.
Kassandra narrowed her eyes, her hand instantly drifting toward the handle of her sword. "This doesn't feel right."
Lukas scanned the perimeter, his massive body tense. "All of the Cyclops's men… gone. But where? They don't just abandon a post."
"Maybe they're sleeping?" Alexios scratched his head, looking genuinely hopeful. "Or drunk? Or both? It's a nice afternoon for a nap."
Before Kassandra could deliver a withering retort, a sound shattered the quiet. A loud, heavy SPLASH echoed from deeper inside the base, close to the main storage yard.
Then came the coughing. Wet, desperate, agonizing gasping.
And finally, loud, cruel, mocking laughter.
"Let's move," Kassandra commanded, immediately sprinting forward.
The trio rushed ahead, boots crunching hard on the coarse gravel as the painful gurgling sounds continued.
They reached the center of the base—a clearing dominated by several wooden vats used for processing materials—and they stopped abruptly.
There he was. The Cyclops of Kephallonia.
He stood beside a large vat of murky water, gripping a gray-haired, struggling old man by a fistful of sodden tunic. The prisoner's hands were bound tightly behind his back, his clothes heavy and dark with water. With a furious, ugly growl, the Cyclops shoved the man's head back underwater.
His subordinates stood nearby, a half-dozen dirty thugs, cheering and jeering like children at a bear-baiting festival.
When the Cyclops finally yanked the old man's head up again, the trio saw his face clearly: terrified, soaking wet, eyes wide and desperate as he gasped for air.
Alexios squinted, confused, trying to place the face. "…I think I know that man. I've seen that beard before."
Next to him, Lukas's face changed instantly, his confusion replaced by a focused, terrifying rage.
"That's Barnabas, The Captain, you idiot!" he barked—already sprinting ahead, his hammer appearing in his hand as if by magic.
Alexios froze for a moment, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "…Barnabas!? The Captain!?" He immediately ran to catch up with Lukas, drawing his sword in a fluid, angry motion.
Kassandra stood behind them, her expression purely professional. Barnabas? She had no idea who the old man was. But it was abundantly clear that Lukas and Alexios knew him, and cared about him, which meant one thing: this man was important, and they would protect him.
Before all this, Barnabas, wandering around the island and enjoying his free time, had been indulging his chronic curiosity. He chatted with locals, inspected strange rocks, and generally enjoyed the scenery.
Then, by pure, terrible bad luck, he crossed paths with the Cyclops himself, drinking wine at a road stall. Barnabas, being Barnabas, started telling stories to the vendor—including a particularly vivid tale he'd once heard about a "one-eyed monster" he'd met on a distant voyage.
Unfortunately, that exact phrase—"one-eyed monster"—was the one thing the Cyclops, intensely self-conscious and paranoid, hated above all others.
Moments later, Barnabas was knocked unconscious, kidnapped, dragged to Kleptous Bay, tied up, and repeatedly dunked into a vat of cold water. All because of one unlucky, poorly timed story.
Back to the Present
The Cyclops shoved Barnabas's head underwater again, forcing the old captain's legs to kick helplessly in the murky vat. His subordinates roared with laughter, pointing and clapping as if this were the climax of a staged farce.
But the laughter died instantly the moment the trio strode into the open.
Lukas took one powerful, earth-shaking step forward, his eyes narrowed, his voice booming with absolute authority, cutting through the noise.
"Release the captain. Now. Before I take my hammer and smash you down where you stand."
The Cyclops's hand froze, still gripping the captain's hair. He blinked his one eye, momentarily confused by the sudden appearance of the giant.
"…Who is this big guy…?"
Before he could finish the thought, Kassandra stepped smoothly beside Lukas, her arms crossed, her stance radiating cold danger.
"Let him go, Cyclops."
The name hit the mercenary like a slap. The Cyclops's expression twisted with immediate, intense irritation.
"No one on this island is allowed to say that word to me!" he screamed, his voice raw.
Kassandra raised her eyebrows dramatically, acting as if she were truly shocked by his sensitivity.
"Oh? Did he say Cyclops? Did he hurt your precious feelings?" she mocked, her voice dripping with scorn.
The Cyclops gritted his teeth, his fists tightening, thick veins bulging on his neck. "I don't like it when people call me that!"
Barnabas, coughing desperately after being lifted from the water for a single gasp of air, tried to speak, "I didn't—I only said—!"
The Cyclops dunked him again before he could finish the protest. Barnabas's muffled gargling filled the sudden vacuum of sound.
Kassandra sighed loudly, dramatically bored. "But you are fat, I mean big and strong," she said, gesturing up and down at his considerable girth. "And frankly, you do only have one eye."
Before the Cyclops realized what she was doing, Kassandra reached inside her pouch.
A round, polished piece of obsidian—his fake eye.
The Cyclops froze mid-motion, his jaw dropping as he realized what she held. "My eye… MY EYE! Give it to me!"
He pointed frantically at Kassandra, his voice rising in panic. "Give it back! If you give it back, I won't have to kill Markos for his debt! Give it to me now!"
Kassandra held the polished eye between two fingers and looked at it thoughtfully, then glanced around casually.
Her eyes landed on a scraggly goat standing nearby—chewing grass, completely oblivious, minding its own business.
Kassandra shrugged, a wide, wicked grin spreading across her face. "Then go get it yourself, one-eye."
Before anyone could react to the impossible absurdity, she grabbed the goat's tail, shoved the fake obsidian eye directly into the goat's backside, smacked the poor animal on the flank, and sent it sprinting full speed into the surrounding forest.
The entire bay fell into a stunned, profound silence.
Then:
Alexios thought in awe: "...She really is my sister."
Lukas, speechless, thought: "Yep. These two are definitely related."
Meanwhile, the Cyclops shrieked in disbelief and pure, personal agony. "MY EYE! MY BEAUTIFUL EYE!!"
One of the Cyclops's subordinates stammered in shock, "Boss… did she just… put it… inside the goat?"
The Cyclops trembled with pure, uncontrolled rage, his face turning an alarming shade of crimson.
"GET THEM!! KILL THEM ALL!"
His subordinates instantly drew their crude, rusty weapons.
At the same time, the trio prepared to counter. Alexios drew his sword. Kassandra gripped her spear-dagger and blade.
Lukas, ignoring the initial rush of thugs, ran straight toward Barnabas, who was still tied up and lying near the vat.
A subordinate rushed forward, attempting to stab the defenseless captain—but Lukas intercepted him, blocking the clumsy attack and slamming the man viciously to the ground with his shoulder.
"Stay close behind me, Captain," Lukas said, standing protectively over the bound man, his hammer raised.
Barnabas, sputtering water and coughing, managed to wheeze out: "I… I wasn't planning to move anyway, young giant!"
The Cyclops's subordinates rushed Lukas again, seeing him as the primary shield for the captive. Lukas met them with devastating force, slamming his hammer into the ground, the shockwave shaking the dirt and making the men stumble. He used the brief confusion to shield Barnabas with his huge body while swinging wide, sweeping arcs to keep the remaining thugs back.
Alexios and Kassandra charged the enraged Cyclops directly.
The Cyclops ripped his enormous club from the ground and roared, swinging at them with wild, desperate strength.
Alexios met him head-on with his sword, the clang of metal against the club echoing loudly. Kassandra darted to the side, stabbing aggressively at the Cyclops's leg and thigh to distract him and draw his focus.
The base erupted into a chaotic, violent exchange—steel ringing, men shouting, dust and gravel flying everywhere.
The Cyclops roared again, furious beyond all reason. "GIVE ME BACK MY EYE, YOU MISERABLE WOMAN!!!"
Kassandra leaned back smoothly from one of his clumsy swings and shouted, "Go get the goat then! It's running toward the cliffs!"
Alexios laughed despite himself, dodging each attack aimed at his head.
Subordinates tried to rush Lukas again, but Lukas smashed one backward with a single, brutal heavy blow, knocking the man unconscious into a stack of crates.
"Stay behind me, Captain," Lukas repeated without looking back.
Barnabas tied with a rope, sounding calm now. "I am absolutely, completely behind you!"
After several hard, brutal exchanges—Alexios slashed the Cyclops across the arm, Kassandra stabbed him under the ribs in a vulnerable gap, and Lukas crushed the last subordinate attacking him—the tide turned decisively.
The Cyclops staggered, swayed violently, his heavy body unbalanced by the constant bleeding and attacks… then crashed face-first to the ground with a heavy, final THUD!
A deep, satisfying silence filled Kleptous Bay. The trio had won. Barnabas was safe. And the Cyclops was defeated, defeated by a mercenary and a running goat.
(PS: Please support me on patreon there 135+ chapters there and there also my new GoT: The True Dragon Fanfiction of Game of Thrones
https://patreon.com/BX_XDS)