The deafening sounds of battle could still be heard behind them. The roars of firing cannons, the agonizing cries of wounded soldiers, the loud cracking noises of burning houses, all carried the same message: Death was currently walking among men.
But that meant little to him. The battle was something to be experienced, not to be remembered. Once it was gone, only being the victor was important.
That is, what was important was him being the victor.
The now-wrecked town of Port-Royal already far in his mind, he ordered the ships to set sail to the Shore Archipelago, their main hideout location.
Would it have been a "normal" battle, their going back would be more elaborated in order to discourage, confuse, and maybe even take a chance to sink every eventual pursuers the Royal Navy might launch on their tracks.
But not tonight. For the battle that just ended less than an hour ago had left the English Army on its knees, with its boats crippled, its soldiers butchered and its main colony burnt to ashes.
Such a feat it was that pirates all around the world would talk -and brag- about for many years to come, and that it perpetrator would gain worldwide and eternal fame.
But he didn't care. Because that, becayse everything he could do would not bring her back. She had left him forever, taking away from him the beauty of this world, and shattering his heart in the process - killing him a little more each day, for only the pain and sorrow remained in a world she wasn't part of.
He didn't know one could be missed so much.
None of his crew could know this, however, for, in their eyes, he was all-powerful and invincible.
For he was Orion, the Black-Hearted.