Blackbeard Flag Military Novels & Stories

Her silver-etched blade remained strapped across her back, its hilt concealed by the thick fabric of her hood, but her hand rested flat on the timber, her pulse steady and cold. "The watchtowers are raising the signal flags," Kaelen whispered, peeking through the narrow slit of the cabin stern window. The first mate was dressed in the uniform of an Eastern junior officer, though his leather brigandine was missing its regulatory brass buttons where it had been torn during the boarding action. "They’re demanding the daily identification sequence. If we raise the wrong color, the iron-shod barrier chains at the mouth of the channel will lift, and we’ll be pinned against the shoals before our oa

The Eclipse Leviathan’s heavy iron keel cut through the coastal tide, churning white-hot foam in the dark waters of Gloomwater Bay. Thirty frigates of war sailed behind the massive flagship in perfect, terrifying formation. The hulls were sheathed in black petrified oak, and the towering masts rigged with fire-resistant solar silk that caught the brisk mountain breeze like the golden wings of diving hawks. The black sand beaches along the jagged coastline were lined for miles with cheering citizens and pack shifters watching their navy set sail to defend the realm.

And worse… they weren’t alone. From the eastern ridge came the horn. Not Xavier’s. Another force. Riders. Dozens. No—hundreds. My stomach dropped. Jared turned to me, panting. “Reinforcements?” I squinted. “No. That’s not our banner.” Black flags. Silver ravens. No mercy. I knew that symbol. I’d grown up fearing it. The Black Talons. Mercenaries. Cutthroats. Raiders of the Veil Sea. They had joined Xavier’s war.

All the hopes he had before had vanished. Tyr gave him the middle finger before looking in Ash’s direction. A loud roar rang out across the ocean, “Raise the flag!” Under Tyr’s command, Ash sent the flag right up to the top of the mast. On one side of the black flag was an embroidered nine-clawed golden dragon, while the words ‘Regal Palace’ was sewn in gold on the other side. It was the symbol of Regal Palace and its Palace Master!

You would hardly call him a redhead if you didn’t notice his orange beard as he had a bald head. “The alpha of Triton Park,” he continued as he beat his huge chest to where his emblem was. Gold and shiny against the red military cloth he wore. The design was a three headed wolf roaring to the sky. “And this is my beta,” he pointed to a fellow dressed in the same military pattern as he.

Thousands of sailboats were sailing on the West Sea. It could be seen from a distance that the boats were filled with people all in black. A murderous aura permeated. On the sailboats were three huge flags. The first red flag wrote, ‘Eternal Life Palace’. The second flag was a drawing of two axes crossing with two huge words written on it, ‘Flower Mountain’. The third flag had nine dragons along with ‘Justice for Mankind’ strikingly on it. These people were indeed disciples of the Elysium Gate, Eternal Life Palace, and Flower Mountain.

Just as Charles's body fell and smashed a big hole in the ground, Caspian already approached him again. "The God of Thunder!" A mouthful of lightning spat out, making Charles's hair stand on end. Soon, a white eye spewed out of Caspian's mouth, and he moved his palm. In the blink of an eye, eight array flags appeared in his hand. These flags were obtained from the Great Oceans Sect elder during the battle in Salleria. Compared with using materials, the formation through array flags was faster and more suitable for use in combat.

"We don't know, but they have a black flag with a skull design on it. They appear to be deadly." "A black flag with a skull design?" Anix mumbled, deep in thought. "Are they close to our territory?" Fenix enquired once more. "No, but due to their speed, it appears they will reach out territory tomorrow evening." "Okay, beef up city security and leave the army at the territory boards. I need to notify the Alpha of this. Fenix, command the army; the pack's safety is in your hands." Anix rushed inside the main city, where the ceremony was taking place, after saying this.

From the beach below the ridge, where the blue ship was moored, a new sound began to drift up through the salt-grass—not a mechanical whistle, and not the crunch of an iron hull. It was the clear, resonant note of a brass foghorn, blowing three long, steady blasts from the deep fog out past the breakwater. And as the mist parted, we could see the shape of a third vessel approaching our shingle—not an audit cutter, and not a slate galley. It was a massive, white-painted hospital ship flying the tattered, red-cross flag of the First Era Relief Fleet, its decks crowded with thousands of blank, un-printed vellum sails that were currently filling with our valley's wind.

Silas shouted from the helm. Julian stepped onto the deck, squinting against the bright tropical sun. He saw a group of harbor officials boarding the ship. They weren't wearing uniforms; they were wearing colorful, hand-dyed tunics. But on their shoulders, they wore a familiar patch: a stylized leaf entwined with a copper wire. The Thorne-Vance Symbol. Julian stiffened. Had the name survived? Was the "Founders' Ghost" still haunting these waters?