It had no name. None that it could remember, at least.When it was born, it had been driven by two instincts: hunt and devour.It was a predator crafted by hands wielding mythic Artes. Its soul was the culmination of countless primitive humans bound to a single, shining spirit.The spirit's name was Peythra. Though once a half-elf who wielded the highest Artes of Elven Biomancy, she was now nothing more than a bestial incarnation of flesh and terror.The Biovore monster — the creature who still had no name — roared as it hunted down the innumerable ships of the Corsair Alliance.It was severely outnumbered. Nearly half a hundred vessels fired upon her, each with rune-decorated hulls and armed with magical armaments. The fifty vessels that Pirate Lord Augustus had brought to reinforce his allies were not the run-of-the-mill ships, but rather his private force cultivated through his design blueprints and precious resources. The vessels were far better equipped and crewed, and were well-trained to follow his complex strategies.In short, they resembled the most professional naval force in the West, if not all of Thalmyra. Lord Baroque might have once boasted a larger armada, and Lord Oleander might have fielded greater monstrosities in his fleet, but Lord Augustus’s naval might was grounded firmly in discipline and strategy.The Biovore’s usual tactic of isolating ships and hunting them one by one was not working. The pirate vessels were working in strict coordination, forming overlapping fields of fire that guarded each other’s flanks while maximising the damage they could inflict each time the Biovore surfaced from the waters (...)