Chapter 36 – The Skybreaker’s Trial

The Skybreaker shudders as I throttle down. Outside the viewing deck, the clouds are no longer clouds—they’re walls. Towering, dense, churning with lightning as if the heavens themselves have built a barricade.

“Damn, man…” I grit my teeth, gripping the controls. “These clouds are like stone walls… but—whoa!!”

I yank the steering to the right—
And nearly forget to breathe.

A colossal floating island looms out of the storm, drifting like a mountain torn from the earth. Jagged cliffs hang upside down, waterfalls spill into the void, and glowing crystals pulse like beating hearts.

Seraphina’s eyes widen. “By the gods… even the skies are more dangerous than the seas.”

“I thought Sky Island was the only floating land in existence…” Elowen mutters, clutching her hammer.

“Randy… this is getting dangerous by the second.” Luna’s voice is sharp, but her hand trembles on the railing.

I nod grimly. “Agreed. Hang on—sensors are screaming like mad!”

The console screeches in my ears, red sigils flashing across the screen.

“Hey, Randy!” Elowen shouts over the alarm. “You do know what you’re doing, right!?”

“Just keep an eye on the heading!” I bark. “I’ll handle the controls. Seraphina! Take the auxiliary wheel!”

“Got it!” She rushes to my side, gripping the secondary levers.

“Luna! Watch the starboard side! Anything moves, blast it before it bites us!”

“Understood!” she snaps, eyes fierce despite the fear in her voice.

The Skybreaker plunges between the islands. The pressure is crushing, the G-force rattling every bone in my body.

“Randy! Veer left!” Elowen yells. “Charts say we’re on collision course!”

“Got it—ghhh!” I wrench the wheel, the airship groaning as we scrape past a crystalline cliff.

“This isn’t a sky,” Seraphina growls, sweat dripping down her temple as she helps me steer. “It’s a damned canyon!”

The path narrows, walls closing in until—
The storm yawns open into a tunnel of swirling rock and crystal.

“A tunnel!?” Luna gasps.

“Like we’ve got a choice!” I slam the throttle forward. The Skybreaker dives into the throat of the storm.

The Tunnel of Death

The walls glow faintly with runes, the air vibrating like a living thing. The passage twists and turns, barely wide enough for us to squeeze through.

“Endless…” I mutter, sweat soaking my gloves. “This tunnel is endless!”

Elowen checks the map, her brow furrowing. “According to this, the route veers sideways. If we follow it, we’ll come out alive… maybe.”

“Then sideways it is!” I jerk the controls. The ship tilts, scraping sparks against the crystal wall before righting itself.

But the tunnel bursts open again—into chaos.

Floating islands, massive as mountains, drift like asteroids. They collide and scrape, sending chunks of glowing stone spiraling through the void.

I weave the Skybreaker between them, predicting the motion, slipping past just as two giants crash together with earth-shaking force.

“Jeez… this is insane!!” Harmonia squeals, clinging to the floor.

“RANDY!!!” Luna’s cry pierces the chaos. She points at the clouds ahead.

Shadows swarm. Dozens. No—hundreds.

Wyverns.

Their wings tear the mist apart, their roars shaking the airship’s hull. Smaller than true dragons, but still enormous—scaled predators with jaws brimming with flame.

Luna casts a spell, her voice ringing clear. “Reveal!”

Sigils flare across her eyes. “Species: Sky Wyvern. Class: A-tier…!”

Her voice wavers. “There are… too many of them.”

“Just one takes an army to kill!” Seraphina shouts. “And we’re flying into a whole nest!”

“Not good!!” I yank a lever. A ripple of blue light cascades around the Skybreaker.

“A forcefield!?” Luna gasps.

“Yeah,” I smirk through clenched teeth. “Learned it from your magic, Luna. Thanks for the inspiration.”

Her cheeks flush, but she can’t hide her worry. “…Idiot.”

Fireballs smash against the barrier, explosions rocking the deck. Wyverns swarm, clawing and slamming against the hull.

“Too strong!” Elowen roars. “We can’t fight this many!!”

And then—

“LOOK!!” Luna screams, pointing to the right.

The clouds split apart.

Something bigger emerges.

A colossal worm, its body stretching endlessly, maw glowing with abyssal light. It lunges—and devours the wyverns whole. Their screams vanish into its throat as it chomps through the swarm like crumbs.

“See? Told you!” I yell, gripping the wheel. “There’s always a bigger fish!”

“NOT FUNNY!!!” Elowen howls.

Escape

The swarm scatters in panic as the worms—several of them now—writhe through the storm, devouring wyverns by the dozens. One gargantuan form surges ahead of us, blocking the path.

“Brace!!” I slam the Skybreaker’s controls, pulling us into a vertical climb. The engines scream, the ship straining against gravity.

The worm snaps its jaws, but we rocket upward into the jetstream, breaking free of the chaos.

“F-fhew…” I collapse back into the chair, gasping. “Finally…”

Before I can even process the relief—Seraphina leans over, sweat dripping down her brow. She grips my face, presses her lips to my cheek, and whispers, “Haah… thank you.” Her arms wrap around me in a desperate hug.

“HEY!!” Luna explodes, yanking her away, her tail puffed and face crimson. “Back OFF!”

“Girls, enough,” Elowen grumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Not fair!!” Harmonia wails, stomping her feet.

I rub my temples. “…I can’t deal with this right now.”

Aftermath

I set the ship to autopilot. Everyone collapses in exhaustion.

“That… is why no ship can pass through this route,” Luna mutters, still pale.

Elowen frowns. “Then how did the ancients cross before?”

Harmonia lifts her hand weakly. “Oh yeah… I think… there used to be a gate.”

Everyone freezes.

“…Excuse me?” Elowen says flatly.

Harmonia blinks innocently. “There was a gate. Long ago. Easier passage. Totally forgot until now. Teehee~.”

Elowen’s vein pops. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT EARLIER!?”

Harmonia sticks her tongue out. “I forgot…”

“…Unbelievable,” I sigh.

The storm fades behind us, but the unease lingers. The Eastern Sea isn’t just dangerous—
…it’s alive.

For the first time in hours, the skies above are calm. Azure blue stretches endlessly, sunlight glittering on waves below like broken glass. But the stillness feels wrong. Too perfect. Too empty.

I lean against the window, staring down at the horizon.
“…Just endless sea.”

Footsteps. Luna joins me, her golden eyes reflecting the light.
“I’ve never seen this part of the world. No islands. No ships. Just… water without end.”

“Well, in my world, it’s the same,” I tell her, voice low. “Oceans that go on forever. The North Sea… that one’s the worst. Unpredictable storms, waters so cold they kill you in minutes. And yet, so much of it’s still unexplored.”

Her ears twitch, tail swaying. “…Interesting. I’d love to join you. On your world’s adventures.”

I blink at her. “Really? I… I kind of miss school sometimes. Though, I was homeschooled by my uncle. He taught me everything. Strict, but… he gave me the knowledge I needed.”

Before Luna can answer, heavy boots approach.

Seraphina.

She stands at the window with us, her gaze fixed far out at the endless waters.
“So… this place. I wonder.”

Her tone carries weight, like she’s standing not on the deck, but on the edge of her past.

Luna tilts her head. “Seraphina, you’ve fought beside us for so long, but you’ve never really spoken of yourself. Why not share?”

Seraphina smirks faintly. “Randy never asks too much. That’s what I like about him.”

Luna bristles. “Well, at least he shares things with me.”

The two exchange a look sharp enough to cut the sea itself. I cough into my hand. “…So, Seraphina?”

Her smirk fades. Her hands go to her chest plate. With a soft metallic clink, she loosens it, holding her arm across her chest to guard her modesty. But that’s not what catches us.

It’s the scar.

A long, brutal line, carved from her shoulder down past her ribs.

“Seraphina…” Luna whispers.

She exhales slowly, eyes heavy. “I am Vipernox. Few know the name, but even the Northern Kingdom feared us. Warriors. Guardians. Assassins. We were the shadows of empires. Our blades earned legends.”

She closes her armor again, voice tightening.

“But in Sundapura—land of abundance, my homeland—we were betrayed. A civil war between the island kings. My brother… sold us out. He took the power of demons and cursed me, turned me into a beast-snake. I lost control. Feral. I… killed without knowing. By the end, I was the last Vipernox left. Except him.”

Her fists shake.

“He serves the Demon Lord now. In the Great Forest of the Northwest Kingdom.”

Silence hangs like chains around us.

Without thinking, Luna grips her arm. “At least… you’re not alone anymore.” Her smile is warm, defiant.

I take Seraphina’s other arm. “…Stay with us. When you’re ready, you’ll find your answer. Not alone. Not this time.”

Her lip trembles. For the first time, Seraphina cries—not in battle, but in front of us.

Harmonia bursts in, throwing herself at the three of us. “Waaahhh!!! That’s so sad!! Why does everyone here have tragic backstories!?”

Elowen leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching. “…Well, at least our team chemistry’s solid now. Sorry, Kline. We’re drinking without you.” She hauls a barrel onto the deck.

“Too early for that!!” I shout.

“We just survived dragon swarms and sky worms. It’s exactly the right time,” Elowen argues.

The laughter softens the heaviness. Seraphina wipes her eyes, still smiling faintly.

The Invisibility Trick

Later, I return to the console, fingers dancing across runes and levers.

“Alright. Set this here… and—done.”

The Skybreaker hums. Then—vanishes.

Elowen blinks. “…So. We’re invisible.”

“Not completely,” I correct with a grin. “They might hear us. But no one can see us. Sound without sight. Ghost ship style.”

“You and your crazy contraptions…” she mutters, shaking her head.

I glance back at the others. “After Eligos, maybe… we’ll head south. Sundapura. The Southeastern Sea. Maybe I’ll find answers there too.”

Luna tilts her head, smiling softly. “You just want to keep exploring.”

“…Maybe.” I admit.

Seraphina folds her arms, looking away. “…I wouldn’t mind returning. One day.”

Luna smirks, nudging me. “And maybe… help her find a mate before her ‘horny side’ explodes, nya~.”

I freeze. Did she just—

“Luna…” I whisper. “Did you just nya again?”

Her face turns red. “…Sh-shut up! It’s your fault! It’s contagious!!”

She storms off, tail thrashing like an angry metronome.

Cute. Terrifying. Both.

I can’t help but smile.

And above us, the endless sky stretches on, hiding dangers we can’t yet see.

From the console, Elowen leans over my shoulder, her sharp eyes scanning the runes.
“Hey, Randy… looks like, based on the chartplot, we’re almost there.”

“Almost?” I frown. “That’s weird.”

Luna steps closer, brushing her hair aside. “What happened, Randy?”

“…According to the map, we should be arriving by evening. But it’s still early afternoon.” I tap the glowing readings. “Something doesn’t add up.”

“Well, maybe because we’re flying? Airship speed throws off your sense of distance,” Elowen suggests.

Before I can argue, the console starts shrieking. Beep-beep-beep!

I slam a switch. “Something’s in front of us.”

Everyone rushes to the windows.

Through the mist of the jetstream, we see it—below us, the clouds split apart, revealing the sea beneath. And there… chaos.

“…Oh no,” Harmonia gasps.

Two fleets clash across the waves, their sails torn by cannon fire. Wooden masts burn, smoke trails claw at the sky. The thunder of artillery echoes upward, shaking the Skybreaker’s frame. A single ship explodes, its hull splitting apart as crewmen leap into the flames.

“A naval battle,” Luna breathes, her tail twitching nervously.

I slam my hands on the console, eyes wide.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!!! That’s—THAT’S AWESOME!!”

Everyone whips their heads at me.

“…Awesome?!” Elowen nearly smacks me. “People are dying down there!”

“I mean—it’s a full-on pirate battle! Cannon fire, rigged sails, explosions—straight out of the history books! Look at that jolly roger—actual pirates!” My grin is stupid, I know, but my inner history nerd is screaming.

Seraphina narrows her eyes, crossing her arms. “Only Randy could get excited at a slaughter.”

Luna flicks my forehead with a sharp thwack. “Idiot! Focus! If they spot us, we’ll be dragged into their mess.”

Still, I can’t tear my eyes away. The ships are massive, their designs eerily close to the galleons of my old world—rows of cannons belching smoke and fire, sails billowing as they maneuver with deadly precision.

Some of the ships gleam with runes along their hulls—magic cannons, firing lances of light that split the ocean.

And at the center of it all, one colossal ship rises above the rest. Black sails, reinforced hull, the jolly roger snapping proudly in the wind. Its cannons roar like thunder, tearing through enemy lines.

“That… that has to be the flagship,” Elowen mutters.

“Or the Pirate King’s ship,” Seraphina adds grimly.

The Skybreaker slows, hovering above the carnage. Our shadows ripple across the water, but for now, the fleets are too consumed in their duel to notice us.

I lean forward on the console, heart pounding.
“…So this is the Eastern Sea. And those… are the people who rule it.”

By the Sea, Eastern Waters

Two massive fleets clash, the sea itself trembling under the weight of their war.

Cannons roar. Masts crack. The ocean foams red.

At the heart of it all—one ship looms larger, darker, more intimidating than the rest. Black sails stretch wide, marked with a cruel jolly roger. The skeletal grin of death mocks every soul on the water.

And at its helm stands her.

A tall woman with storm-black hair and eyes that glimmer like polished obsidian. A cutlass gleams in her hand, the blade stained with the memory of a hundred battles.

“Alter yer course, mateys!” she bellows, voice carrying over the chaos like thunder. “Give those Silver Fang gulls no room! Broadside, NOW!”

“AYE AYE, CAP’N!!”

The deck shudders as cannons unleash hellfire. Wood splinters, enemy sails rip apart, and the Silver Fang flagship staggers under the onslaught.

Crewmen howl with bloodlust. “Arrgh, Cap’n!!! We’ll send those Silver Fang bilge rats to the bottom o’ the sea, or me name ain’t Blackwood!!”

“RAISE THE ROGER!! BOARD ‘EM!! NO QUARTER!!”

The black flag rises higher, snapping against the wind. Cheers erupt as grappling hooks fly, biting into the enemy’s hull. With a wild crash, the Blackwood crew surges across the gap like a tide of steel.

Steel clashes. Flintlocks crack. Arrows whistle through the smoke.

Blood sprays across the deck. Men scream, cut down in brutal arcs.

And at the front—laughing, spinning, dancing through death—the captain herself.

Her cutlass sings as it carves through Silver Fang sailors, each strike faster than the last. She moves like a storm given flesh, boots pounding against slick bloodstained wood.

“Arrgh, ye be Eira Shadowglow, eh!?” one enemy snarls, clashing blades with her. “En garde, witch! Today ye meet yer maker!!”

“Maker?” she smirks, parrying with a flash. “Hah! The sea herself made me, fool!”

Their duel rages in the center of the chaos—her blade weaving arcs of silver through smoke. Sparks fly as steel grinds against steel.

Above, a crewman fires down with a flintlock. “Cursed be ye, Silver Fangs! To the dragon sharks with ye!!”

“Batten down!!” another screams from the mast. “They’re firin’ again—!”

BOOM!!

The ocean detonates. A barrage of cannon fire rains across the battlefield, indiscriminate. The very air shakes as fire swallows both friend and foe alike.

The blast throws bodies into the sea.

The deck of the Blackwood flagship erupts into splinters and flame.

And the captain herself—Eira Shadowglow—is hurled skyward, her cutlass spinning from her hand.

For a heartbeat, the world slows. Her black hair whips like a banner against the burning sky. Her eyes narrow—not in fear, but defiance.

Then—splash.

The sea swallows her whole.

“SHIVER ME TIMBERS!!! THE CAP’N’S GONE TO THE DRINK!!”

The cry splits the chaos as panic floods the Blackwood deck. Their once-invincible captain—the terror of the Eastern Sea—vanishes beneath the waves.

The Silver Fang fleet surges forward like sharks scenting blood. Cannons roar, grappling hooks fly, and the Blackwood ships crumble one by one, set ablaze or dragged down screaming into the deep.

Beneath the waves—

Eira’s eyes snap open. Salt stings her lungs as she kicks upward through fire-lit waters. Her cutlass is gone, her breath burning.

“A pox upon the Silver Fang crew!” she snarls into the dark, bubbles ripping from her lips. “They’ve sent me ship to the bottom, the blaggards!!”

She breaks the surface, gasping, only to find horror.

Her fleet burns. Masts collapse into the sea like toppled giants. Her crew—slain, slaughtered, cut down by Silver Fang blades.

“CAP’N!!” A voice gurgles weakly.

She thrashes through floating debris until she finds him—Rigor, her loyal orc helmsman. He lies broken on a shattered plank, blood pouring from his side.

“Rigor! Don’t ye be leavin’ us yet!!” she shouts, grabbing his hand.

The orc smiles faintly, tusks glistening with crimson.
“...Farewell, Cap’n. May ye sail the Ten Seas in the afterlife…”

His grip slackens. His eyes close. His body drifts away.

Eira screams, fury breaking from her throat like a storm.
“Ye bilge rats!! May the winds o’ doom blow ye off course!!!”

CRACK!

Her body jerks. A searing pain rips across her shoulder—an enemy shot. Blood gushes into the water as her vision blurs, the sea turning black around her.

“"By the great sea goddess... not yet, not in this manner...”

Her body begins to sink.

And then—

FWOOOSH!

A shadow tears across the sky above, engines howling, light glinting off steel wings.

Through fading vision, Eira sees him—
A figure in a flight suit, cutting through cannon fire like a phantom.
Twin bursts of magic-flare shoot down, striking the Silver Fang gunners with pinpoint precision. Explosions bloom. Men scream.

The figure dives. Spray erupts as he hits the water.

Strong arms pull her from the dark, lifting her like she weighs nothing. She catches a glimpse of his face beneath the flight visor. Unfamiliar, strange—yet burning with fire.

“"Avast, what in Neptune's beard...?" she whispers, blood drippin' from her lips like bilge from a leaky hull. "A sky devil, ye say? May the sea gods curse it to Davy Jones' locker!"

Her eyes close. Darkness takes her.

The last thing she remembers—
Is being carried upward.
Away from death.
Back toward the light.

In the Skybreaker – Infirmary

The Skybreaker hums quietly, cloaked by its invisibility device.

Inside one of the ship’s cabins, a woman lies on a cot, bandaged and pale. Her tattered coat and boots have been stripped away, leaving only rough bandages across her shoulder and chest. The faint smell of alcohol and herbs lingers in the air.

Eira Shadowglow—the Blackwood Captain—breathes shallowly, her mind drifting.

Muffled voices reach her through the haze.

“Randy, you know this is a bad idea!!” Elowen snaps.

Seraphina’s tone is sharper, almost accusatory. “And why is it always women you drag aboard? Convenient, huh?”

Luna’s tail lashes, her golden eyes narrow. “…So this is a pirate? A literal pirate?”

Eira stirs faintly, her thoughts muddled.
“What be they jawin’ about… be it about me, matey? Arr… me poor head be spinnin’… Do they reckon I be nothin’ but a scurvy dog, fit for the briney depths?”

Harmonia peeks in, wide-eyed. “Hey—she’s waking up!”

The voices hush.

Slowly, Eira opens her eyes. Lantern light stings her vision. Shadows move above her—the strangers who pulled her from the abyss.

Her lips curl into a crooked grin.
“A dwarf lass… a serpent wench… a cat-folk maiden… and a wee lass… and a young swabby in strange garb. Hah! What sorcery be this, matey? Did I wash up in Davy Jones’ locker?”

The room exchanges looks.

Elowen leans closer, cautious but firm. “You okay?”

Eira groans, trying to sit up, but her wounds protest.
“Ugh… Avast! What sorcery be this…? Where be me crew?!” Her voice cracks. “Blast it all, where’s me hearties? Arr… I need me bearings…!”

Her hand clutches the bandages at her shoulder.

Elowen answers carefully, though her tone softens. “You still have deep wounds. A musket ball was buried in your shoulder. Thanks to Randy’s quick work, it’s out now. If not for him, you’d be sleeping with the sea.”

Eira blinks, turning her gaze to him.

The boy in the flight suit. The one from the sky.

Her eyes narrow, studying him with the sharp suspicion of a pirate captain—even half-dead.
“…So ye be the one who dragged me from the drink. A sky devil in the flesh, eh?”

Randy scratches his cheek awkwardly. “…Just did what anyone would’ve.”

“Liar,” Luna mutters under her breath, crossing her arms. “Not everyone would’ve risked their life for a pirate.”

Seraphina’s smirk is sharper. “Especially a woman pirate.”

The tension thickens like smoke.

Eira chuckles weakly, her pirate drawl returning. “Heh… looks like I washed up in stranger waters than I thought. What crew be ye lot, I wonder? Rescuers… or me new gaolers?”

Her black eyes glitter dangerously, even as sweat beads on her brow.

“So… where you from?” I ask.

She grins despite her bandages, voice rolling like thunder over the deck.
“Hails from the Isle o’ De La Malsa, I do… where the black sands kiss the dark sea!”

“Uh huh…” I scratch my head. None of us have any idea where that is.

“Don’t ye have yer own bearings, swabby? Can’t ye chart yer own course?”

“…The way you’re saying it doesn’t match any of our charts.”

She ignores me, staggering to the window. Her eyes widen at the endless blue sky.

“Shiver me spyglass… are we flyin’ the seven winds? What sorcery be this?”

“Umm… yeah. About that…” Elowen folds her arms smugly.

Moments later, Eira insists on being taken to the bridge. With stubborn steps, she follows us, jaw slack at the sight of the consoles, runes, and engines.

“Aye… am I dreamin’ on me hook? Or is this just another wild sea tale?”

“This is the Skybreaker,” I explain simply.

“I’ve seen me share o’ airships, but none like this. She’s a beauty—more sky beast than vessel!” Her awe is genuine.

Seraphina smirks. “So, should we all talk like her now?”

Eira laughs, a sharp bark.
“Arrr, be it speech or steel, when the fightin’ starts, words matter not! A blade’ll pierce ye whether ye say aye or nay, savvy?”

Her voice drops, dark.
“Me plan be simple… rebuild me crew o’ scurvy dogs. Blackwood’ll rise again. The Silver Fang think they’ve taken me pride? Nay. I’ll gut ‘em, or me name ain’t Eira Blackwood!”

“…Sounds like a plan,” Elowen mutters, half impressed.

I glance at Luna. “What do you think?”

Her ears twitch. “…It’s not like we have much choice. We need connections. But…”

“You mean Nu Wa?” Elowen guesses.

Eira’s eyes flash.
“If ye be seekin’ King Nu Wa, then I’ll lend ye a hand. But mark me words, I’ve got me own reasons. Call it a deal… aye, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Elowen and I exchange looks. I don’t trust her—but we have no choice.

On the bridge, Eira studies the map with a scoff.
“Arrgh, this chart be older than me boots! Ye’d do better watchin’ the stars. With this relic, ye’ll be sailin’ in circles ‘til yer bones rot!”

“Then tell me.” I cross my arms.

Her finger slams down on an empty patch of sea. “There. Hidden waters. Set yer course, matey!”

With no better lead, we follow her heading. The Skybreaker glides toward a scattered chain of islands.

“Listen close, lad! This ship be a prize worth stealin’. Don’t ye dock her in plain sight, or the whole sea’ll come swarmin’! Hide her in a cove, or ye’ll be a gull ripe for pluckin’!”

“…For once, I actually agree,” I admit.

Soon, a shadow rises from the horizon—an island wrapped in fog.

“Where’s the port?” I ask.

“Two isles east. Port De La Malsa. A fishin’ village to most… but for me, it be home. A harbor of rogues and hearties.”

Her accent is so thick it feels like she’s speaking another language. Harmonia just tilts her head in confusion.

“Anyway,” I sigh. “I’ll leave the Skybreaker hidden in the skies.”

“Jump?! Lad, ye mad? That’s like divin’ headlong into Davy Jones’ locker!”

“What’s the plan, Randy?” Luna asks, suspicious.

“Yeah,” Elowen glares. “Since you’re the paranoid one, what’s your genius idea?”

“Simple. Land low, drop you guys off. Then I send the ship back up. Leave the golems in charge.”

“…Simple in your own words.” Elowen facepalms.

“Whatever.”

The Skybreaker descends briefly. One by one, the crew disembarks—Eira included, her boots crunching on black sand.

Engines roar as the ship lifts again, fading into invisibility.

“Look after her,” I order the golem crew.

“Affirmative,” the lead golem drones.

I jump last, landing with a thud thanks to my flight suit.

Eira eyes the gear curiously. “So that contraption be the wings that plucked me from the brine? A fine devil’s toy, that.”

“Sort of.” I disengage the armor, returning to normal.

Elowen adjusts her hammer across her back. “Alright, pirate. What now?”

Eira grins, baring teeth.
“Follow me, mateys. To Port De La Malsa… where the real seas be ruled.”

We march behind Eira, the salty wind carrying the cries of gulls, drunken laughter, and the echo of distant cannon fire.

Once we reach the shore… well… it’s exactly what you’d imagine from a pirate island.

Rusted anchors line the roads. Half-sunk rowboats serve as shop stalls. Shouts, brawls, and songs tumble out of every alley.

Two pirates beat each other bloody in the street—one still clutching a bottle of rum even as his face gets smashed into the dirt.

Across the road, a woman in a frilly Victorian dress throws her head back, laughing maniacally while she dangles on the arm of a burly man covered in tattoos. A pistol slips out of her corset like it’s the most normal accessory in the world.

“Geez…” I mutter, wide-eyed. “They’re literally brawling with pistols in broad daylight. I thought movies exaggerated this stuff, but nope. This is real.”

Luna tilts her head, watching a pirate get tossed through a window. “You… seem to know about pirates?”

“Uh… yeah. Pirates like this don’t exist in my time anymore. They’re more like… history. Exotic, dangerous, flashy. New age pirates back home? They’re worse. Dirt poor, less romantic. Guns, drugs, human trafficking. Less ‘yo-ho-ho’ and more… organized crime with boats.”

“…That’s grim,” Seraphina mutters.

“Yeah,” I admit. “No fancy accents, no adventure. Just bandits with engines.”

Eira laughs, smacking a drunken pirate out of her way without breaking stride.
“Arr, ye think the pirate life be all the same, swabby? Nay! Every sea tells a different tale, every port a different curse, every pirate a legend of their own! But if ye be thinkin’ it all bilge water, maybe ye should try walkin’ the plank yerself, eh?”

I rub my forehead. “I swear I understood maybe three words of that…”

Elowen raises her brows. “Eira. Where are we going?”

“Keep yer boots marchin’, mateys! We be headin’ straight for the tavern. Any stragglin’ and ye’ll be singin’ yer swan song to Davy Jones himself!”

She floors another drunk pirate with a single jab and keeps walking.

“…She does that like it’s normal,” I mutter.

“Indeed,” Luna sighs, watching her tail swish.

Harmonia twirls with a giggle, unfazed by the chaos. “This place is fun! Like a festival, but with more knives!”

“Lively, that’s for sure.” Elowen smirks, ducking as a chair flies past her head.

“Nothing like this back in our kingdom…” Luna murmurs, half-distracted, half-judging.

“Are you kidding!?” My grin stretches wide. “This is PERFECT. A real pirate town! Nothing like a pirate town!”

The others stare at me like I’ve lost my mind, but I don’t care. This is history come to life.

At last, Eira stops before a massive wooden building. A crude carving of a mermaid—bare-breasted, grinning wickedly—sprawls across the entrance. The tavern’s name, scorched into a plank above, reads: The Naked Mermaid.

“…Subtle,” I mutter.

Luna slowly turns her head, eyes narrowing at me. “So… you like this stuff, right? All these… half-naked carvings? Just like your memories… nya.”

Her cheeks are pink, but her voice drips with venom.

“Uh—wha—no! I mean—it’s historical!! Aesthetics!! Pirate culture!!” My voice cracks embarrassingly.

Seraphina smirks. “Sure. Historical.”

Elowen groans, dragging me by the collar. “Shut up and get inside before you get shot.”

“Y-yeah! Whatever! Hey—come on!!”

We push through the swinging doors into the roaring heart of Port De La Malsa.

The smell hits first—sweat, rum, smoke, and something I really don’t want to identify.

Inside, it’s worse than outside. A drunken pirate lurches forward, vomits on the floor in front of us, then immediately gets his head smacked against a table by another pirate.

“Aye, ye’ve had one too many grogs, lad! Yer three sheets to the wind!” the smacker bellows before collapsing into laughter.

I freeze. “...They don’t even care that we just walked in.”

“Because we blend in,” Elowen mutters.

“Not exactly comforting,” Seraphina hisses, her hand hovering near her blade.

“Stay sharp,” Luna whispers, her ears twitching as her tail curls.

Eira strides ahead like she owns the place. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even glance at the chaos—she goes straight for the bar. The bartender, a mountain of a man with a beard braided into knots, grunts at her words, then nods and points toward a back door.

“C’mon. Follow me,” Eira orders.

My stomach twists. “This feels… familiar.”

“What do you think?” Elowen asks, side-eyeing me.

“Sounds like a trap,” Seraphina answers bluntly.

“Yes,” Luna adds, narrowing her eyes. “We must remain vigilant.”

“Uh-huh.” My hand slides to my pistol holster.

Before I can think too hard, Eira doesn’t open the door with her hand—she kicks it open.

BANG!

“Avast, Korvus! Get yer hide out here, matey!” she bellows, her glare like cannon fire.

The room reeks of rum and stale smoke. A man lies slumped over a table, empty bottles scattered like fallen soldiers.

“Korvus, ye scurvy cur! Rise ‘n’ shine, ye bilge rat! We’ve got business to attend to!” Eira shouts.

Korvus stirs, groans, and promptly vomits into a bucket.

“…Classy,” I mutter.

“Button yer lip, ye blabbermouth! Ye’re spillin’ more bilge than a leaky hull!” Eira snarls, booting the table leg.

Korvus blinks blearily. “Arrgh… Eira? That ye? Ye look like ye’ve been keelhauled… what in Davy Jones’ name happened to ye?”

“Avast, I’ve no time for yer bellyachin’! I need a new crew, Korvus. Now. Round ‘em up or I’ll send ye swimmin’ with the fishes meself!”

Korvus coughs. “What happened to yer hearties? Did they desert ye? Or… feed the fish?”

“They fell in battle, cut down by the Silver Fang dogs. Now move yer arse, Korvus! I’ve a score to settle, and I’ll not be fightin’ alone!”

Korvus sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “Ye think gatherin’ a crew’s as easy as pluckin’ stars from the sky? I’ll scour the taverns, aye… but don’t be expectin’ miracles.”

“Then I’ll expect a bloody miracle anyway! Now MOVE!” Eira kicks him again, nearly toppling his chair.

Korvus groans but waves a hand, already reaching for parchment and quill. His sloppy scrawl looks like wanted posters more than recruitment notices.

“Korvus is me scout,” Eira mutters to us. “He’s got ears in every port. Give ‘im a pint o’ rum and he’ll sniff out a crew faster than a fish smellin’ blood.”

“…That’s basically human resources,” I whisper.

“Interesting way of hiring manpower,” Elowen remarks dryly.

We leave the tavern through a side alley, and instantly the atmosphere changes. Gone is the filthy, brawling chaos. The path winds upward, and the air grows sharper, cleaner.

From here, the port below looks like a hive of rats gnawing on each other. But above, on the cliffs, it almost feels… elegant.

A lone figure stands against the wind, gazing out at the sea.

“HEY, GRANNY!!” Eira yells.

Before I can ask what she means, something whizzes at my head— THUNK! A wooden plank smashes against my forehead.

“Gahh!! What the hell!?” I stumble back, clutching my head.

“Randy!!” Luna rushes over, grabbing my shoulders, her voice full of panic. “Are you alright!?”

“Geez…” Elowen rubs her temple. “This again.”

“Why me!?” I groan.

From the cliff, the woman’s voice booms:
“He’s a man o’ iron, that one… takes a hit and still walks the deck!”

We look up—and freeze.

“Granny” is not what we expected.

She’s no hunched crone. She’s a cat-folk woman, tall and commanding. A long captain’s coat of deep blue billows around her, trimmed with gold. An eyepatch covers her left eye, but the right gleams like the sea under moonlight—piercing, regal, dangerous. Her tail flicks with the controlled grace of a predator.

Seraphina tenses, hand on her weapon. “That’s… Granny?”

Even Harmonia whispers, awed, “She looks… cool.”

Luna narrows her eyes, her grip on me tightening. “She is the same as me…”

Eira grins, fangs flashing. “Aye, that’s her. The old sea wolf herself. Granny.”

The salty wind howls around us as the legendary pirate lifts her gaze down at our group—measuring us like a hawk sizing up prey.

Suddenly—CRACK!

Her fist slams down on Eira’s head.

“E-Ehhhhh!?!?” I yelp, eyes wide.

“Shiver me timbers! Why’d ye go and clout me on the earhole, Granny?!” Eira clutches her head, staggering like she just took a cannonball to the skull.

“Aye, and I’ll clout ye again, ye barnacle-brained brat!” the woman roars, her voice cutting through the sea breeze like a cutlass. “Didn’t I warn ye ‘bout the Silver Fang dogs? Crafty devils, sneakier than sea snakes in the reeds! And ye—ye went and got bested like some wet-behind-the-ears deck swab!”

Eira growls. “Tch… I just got caught off guard, is all—!”

“Caught off guard!?” Granny’s single blue eye blazes with fury. “Ye lost yer ship, yer crew, and near lost yer hide too! A disgrace to the Blackwood name, ye are!”

I raise a hand awkwardly. “Uh… Eira? Who exactly is this terrifying lady?”

Eira rubs the knot swelling on her skull and grimaces. “…She’s… Granny Nu Wa. The Pirate King.”

Silence.

Then all of us speak at once—

“WHAT!?!?”

Even the gulls overhead squawk as if echoing our shock.

My jaw hits the metaphorical floor. This beautiful, terrifying cat-folk woman… is the Pirate King?

Elowen sighs dramatically, facepalming. “Geez. That was… way too easy of a reveal.”

“Pirate King…!?” Harmonia’s eyes sparkle like she just discovered her new idol. “Does that mean she’s, like, queen of all treasure!?”

Luna’s tail twitches dangerously, her voice low and suspicious. “King or not… I don’t like how she’s looking at Randy.”

Seraphina crosses her arms, frowning. “I expected some wrinkled crone, not… this.”

Granny Nu Wa, the so-called Pirate King, leans forward on the cliff’s edge, her long coat whipping in the wind. Her lips curve into a sharp grin, fangs glinting.

“Aye, ye heard true, whelps. I be Nu Wa, the one who rules these seas with tooth ‘n’ claw. Pirate King, scourge o’ the Eastern winds!”

Her voice thunders, rolling across the sea like cannon fire.

And just like that, our mission to find Nu Wa has taken a turn we never expected.

Elowen nudges me with her elbow. “Hey, better ask her then.”

I blink. “Why me?”

“Because you can actually talk without starting a fight.”

“Why not Luna?”

Luna flicks her tail, glaring. “Excuse me?”

Elowen smirks. “Maybe, but you’re still more talkable than her.”

“That’s… not the point!!” I groan, rubbing my temple.

Still, I take a step forward and face the Pirate King herself. Her single blue eye pierces me, sharp as a harpoon. My throat feels dry, but I steady my voice.

“Well… I need to know about the altar where the hero pirate, Drake Stroud, was summoned.”

Nu Wa tilts her head, her long coat whipping in the sea breeze. She studies me in silence, then lets out a low chuckle.

“Aye, what o’ it, lad? That altar be hidden from pryin’ eyes, deep in places no map dares mark. I wouldn’t be divin’ its location for all the gold in the realm.”

I grit my teeth. That wasn’t the answer I wanted. Luna steps up beside me, her golden eyes blazing.

“This isn’t just about treasure,” she says, voice firm. “The altar is tied to something greater. If we don’t uncover it, all the kingdoms could be at risk.”

Nu Wa strokes her chin, her grin fading into thought. For a moment, the Pirate King looks almost… calculating. Then she finally smirks again, flashing a fang.

“Aye, I owe ye for savin’ me wee granddaughter’s hide.” She throws an arm around Eira, who squirms in protest. “So I’ll chew on it, but first… I’ve a bit o’ business that needs sortin’.”

Here it comes.

“What kind of business?” I ask cautiously.

Nu Wa’s grin widens like a shark’s. “This lass needs a crew, aye? And them Silver Fang scallywags have been spreadin’ their rot across me waters. They be a thorn in me eye, and it’s time someone gave ‘em the hook!”

She shoves Eira’s head down, making her yelp. “Arrgh! Granny!!”

The crew exchanges looks. Elowen crosses her arms, weighing the odds. Seraphina shrugs, smiling slyly. “I’ll follow whatever decision you make, Randy.”

Yeah, more like running away from responsibility.

“At least she’s talking to us!!” Harmonia beams, as if this whole mess is just fun and games.

Then Luna steps forward, tail lashing, and speaks for all of us. “Very well. We’ll help you deal with Silver Fang… in return, you tell us the location of the altar.”

The wind stills for a heartbeat.

Nu Wa’s grin splits wide, dangerous and amused all at once.
“Aye, matey… ye’ve got yerselves a deal. Let’s shake on it—then seal the bargain with a pint o’ grog!”

Her laughter crashes across the cliffside like waves, and for the first time since we entered the Eastern Sea, I realize we’ve just allied with the Pirate King herself.
And something tells me… this is only the beginning.

Just then, the peace shatters.

A staggering figure lurches into view, bottle sloshing in one hand, the other steadying himself on a wooden post. His hat’s crooked, his coat’s missing half its buttons, and he moves with a swagger so unsteady it almost looks choreographed.

“Arrr… King, is it? What tide brings ye to these waters?” the man slurs, swaying closer. His grin reveals a gold tooth glinting in the sunlight. “Eira’s right here, safe ‘n sound… Yer crew, aye, they’re… ah… on other assignments,savvy? Or don’t tell me ye be usin’ ‘em as cannon fodder again, eh?”

I squint. No way… he acts exactly like… Captain Jack Sparrow from those old movies. What the hell!?

Eira steps forward, fists clenched. “Stow yer gob, Arin! I’ve got no time for yer drunk ramblings. I’m rebuildin’ me crew to gut the Silver Fang dogs and send ‘em to the depths! You got any swashbucklers left in yer pockets, or are ye just here to waste breath?”

Arin tilts his head, blinking blearily—then suddenly grins wide, staggering forward with a flourish of his bottle. His words come out half-slurred, half-sharp.

“Aye, aye, let Korvus handle the business of gatherin’ bilge rats and barnacle-brained rogues… But without a ship, ye ain’t nothin’ but a pirate in name only.” He takes a long swig and wipes his mouth on his sleeve, eyeing Eira with theatrical pity.
“So tell me, lass—ye got a vessel worthy o’ the Blackwood name? Or are ye just keepin’ yerself anchored in dry dock, playin’ pretend?”

Eira bristles, hand flying to her cutlass. “Why, ye—!”

Luna mutters at my side, ears twitching. “This guy’s acting… strange. Like he’s drunk, but not really drunk.”

Elowen smirks, crossing her arms. “Honestly, I kinda like him.”

“Of course you do,” I sigh, already feeling the headache coming on.

Nu Wa finally slams the cutlass against the ground, the crack echoing like thunder. “Arin, ye lily-livered swine! Another word outta yer mouth and I’ll keelhaul ye meself!”

Arin freezes—then slowly bows with exaggerated drunken grace, nearly falling flat on his face.
“As ye wish, Pirate King… as ye wish.”

Nu Wa exhales through her nose, clearly used to his antics. Then her gaze turns sharp, landing on Eira like a cannonball.
“Eira, me dear, the shipbuilder’s done their magic… The new ship’s ready, and she’s a beauty.”

For a second, Eira’s eyes glitter with childlike glee—until whack! Nu Wa smacks her on the head.
“Lass, ye’ve got a new ship and a new chance. Don’t be blowin’ her to bits like ye did the last one, or ye’ll answer to me. Savvy?”

“Gah—Granny!!” Eira clutches her head, whining like a scolded pup. “Fine, fine, I’ll behave and not blow another ship to smithereens…!!”

Nu Wa chuckles darkly, then turns to us.
“Aye, hurry it up, mateys. And if Randy and his crew need a place to lay low, our mansion’s doors be open. Rest yer heads and recharge yer spirits—no charge.”

“...Thanks,” I manage, still struggling to believe the Pirate King just casually offered us free lodging.

We leave the mansion’s cliffs behind, following Eira down into the bustling heart of Port De La Malsa. Every step feels like walking back in time.

The salty wind carries the sound of gulls, laughter, and the occasional musket shot. Pirates brawl in the street, one poor drunk sprawled in the dirt with a broken bottle in his hand. A woman in a Victorian gown throws her head back in wild laughter, clinking mugs with a scar-faced brute.

“Geez…” I mutter, wide-eyed. “They’re literally fighting and brawling with pistols. I thought movies exaggerated all this, but nope—this is real.”

“You seem to know a lot about pirates…” Luna narrows her eyes, ears twitching.

“Well… pirates like this don’t exist in my world anymore. We had them, yeah, but modern ones? They’re less exotic, more dangerous, and a lot less… dramatic.”

“Really.” Luna tilts her head, intrigued.

Seraphina folds her arms. “So what were pirates like in your world?”

“Uh… dirt poor. Barely educated. Talked more like bandits than these guys.”

“Aye, matey!” Eira cuts in with a booming laugh. “Ye think the pirate life be all the same, eh? Every sea’s got its own tales. Every port, its own devils. But don’t ye be thinkin’ it’s all bilge water—unless ye fancy walkin’ the plank yerself!”

I scratch my head. I have no idea what she just said, but I’ll pretend I do.

At a weapon stall, my inner child takes over. Cutlasses, pistols, daggers—all gleaming in the sunlight.

“Hey!!” Elowen calls after me, but Harmonia’s already darted ahead with me, her eyes sparkling.

“That’s Randy for ya…” Seraphina sighs, though there’s amusement in her voice.

The stall seller grins a toothless grin. “Aye, lad, that’ll be two doubloons fer the lot. Hand over the loot, and they’re yers.”

I pat my pockets. Nothing. Then I pull out a small silver ingot.
“...Can I trade?”

The seller’s eyes widen. “Aye, this be worth a king’s ransom! Ye drive a hard bargain, matey. Take the goods—and a bit extra fer good luck!”

He hands me not just the cutlass, but a dagger and flintlock pistol. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he throws in a folded bundle.

“Avast, lad! Ye can’t be struttin’ ‘round in them landlubber rags! Put this on—or ye’ll be cursed with bad luck!”

Minutes later, I step out of the stall in full pirate garb. A crimson sash, weathered boots, tricorn hat tilted at an angle. My modified flight suit hidden beneath, integrated seamlessly.

“Shiver me timbers!” the seller cackles. “Now ye look the part, a true buccaneer ready to plunder the seven seas!”

Eira whistles. “Aye, lad! Ye look the part now, a proper swabby! May yer sea legs serve ye well!”

“How do I look?” I grin.

Elowen pinches her nose. “Yeah… like a real pirate. If Kline saw this, he’d die laughing.”

“Why wear such tattered clothes?” Luna frowns, tail twitching, clearly unimpressed.

Eira waves her hand. “Arrr, this gear be magical, lass. Ye won’t get soaked, even if ye dive headfirst into the briny deep. Cold waters? Nay trouble. She’ll keep ye warm as a galley fire!”

Elowen whistles low. “Armor with elemental resistance. Impressive.”

Luna, grudgingly, changes into an adventurer-pirate hybrid outfit. Harmonia bounces into hers with a bright smile.

Seraphina and Elowen stick to their own gear, though I catch Seraphina eyeing the cutlasses with a dangerous grin.

Finally, we reach the shipwright.

From the outside, the dock looks ordinary. Just rows of masts, sails, and tar. But when the gates swing wide, my jaw drops.

Anchored before us is a frigate—sleek lines, reinforced hull, rows of cannons polished to perfection. She looks salvaged from old wrecks, patched together with expert care, yet somehow… stronger for it.

Elowen crosses her arms. “This looks less like building and more like salvaging.”

“Arrgh!” Eira beams with pride. “She be a real treasure! A gem fit fer me!”

The shipbuilder wipes his brow, grinning wide. “Lady Eira, this vessel’s ready to sail. Sturdy, seaworthy, and fit fer a swashbucklin’ lady pirate like yerself!”

Eira strides aboard, her boots clanging against the deck. She disappears inside to inspect every nook and cranny—her laughter echoing from within.

I exhale slowly, watching the frigate gleam in the sun.
“So this is Granny Nu Wa’s ‘magic,’ huh…?”

Somehow, I know this is only the start of another storm.

The ship gleams under the sun, sails furled and hull patched with a craftsman’s pride. Then, with a dramatic flourish, Eira leaps onto the deck, popping open a grog bottle. She raises it high, her voice booming like thunder.

“Ahoy, mateys! This ship be christened the Stroud, in honor o’ the infamous Drake Stroud, scourge o’ the seven seas! May she sail free, may she strike fear, and may no bilge rat dare challenge her might!”

She splashes the grog against the hull. The scent of rum fills the air as the pirates nearby cheer.

Elowen squints, laying her hand on the wood. “More like a salvaged wreck than a treasure. Look here—holes, cracks, water damage. Are we sure this ship sails and doesn’t sink?”

I pat the hull with a grin. “Yeah, she’s rough… but she’s got character! I believe she’ll sail just fine. Hahahaha! Arrrr!”

I throw on my best pirate impression, puffing out my chest.

Seraphina groans, rubbing her temples. “Unbelievable. Randy’s like a little boy playing pirate now.”

“Arrr!! Mateys, we’re gonna plunder treasure, drink grog, and fight sea monsters!” Harmonia joins in, jumping onto the railing with both arms raised. Her bum wags as she howls alongside Eira and me.

The three of us laugh and roar together like lunatics at sea.

Meanwhile, Luna facepalms so hard it echoes. Elowen just stares at us, her expression caught between exasperation and disbelief.

“Gods help us…” she mutters.

Seraphina cuts in, eyeing the deck like a hawk. “Eira, this tub got any weapons? Cannons, ballistae, something that actually destroys?”

Elowen smirks. “Figures. You’d rather ogle weapons than enjoy the ride.”

“Ugh… a weapon fanatic,” Luna sighs, folding her arms.

Eira cackles, slamming her boot on the deck. “Aye! There be a blacksmith down the lane, craftin’ the deadliest blades and firearms this side o’ the sea! Odd fella, but his steel sings truer than a siren’s call!”

Seraphina’s eyes glitter dangerously. “That settles it. Luna, with me.”

“Huh? Oh, fine… I’ll tag along.”

“Wait up! I’m not letting you two hoard the best gear without me!” Elowen storms after them, tossing me a glare. “And for the record, I’d rather deal with a sweaty blacksmith than get dragged into your pirate cosplay nonsense!”

The three of them head toward the smithy, leaving Harmonia and me still playing pirates with Eira.

Eira crosses her arms, looking smug. “Ye think me crew too refined for the sea, don’t ye? But I’ll have ye know, lad—they be salty dogs through and through!”

I shrug. “Huh. Beats me. Doesn’t matter what they look like—long as they fight.”

Harmonia bounces in, tail swishing. “They’ll be fine! They fought giant monsters before! Big ugly ones!”

Eira’s eyes widen. “Shiver me spyglass! Monsters, ye say? What manner o’ beasts be ye clashin’ with—krakens, leviathans, or worse?”

“Yep! Adventurers, that’s us!” Harmonia beams. “We hunt bounties, fight monsters, and collect treasure! Heehee!”

Eira throws back her head, laughing. “Sounds like a grand adventure! Then I’ll be askin’ me Granny fer wisdom, and we’ll chart a course for danger and glory, savvy?”

The ship creaks as preparations begin. Sailors scurry, ropes tighten, and gulls cry overhead. I take a step back, looking at the frigate in all her patched-up, half-glorious beauty.

Our first voyage with the Stroud.
The air tastes of salt, sweat, and gunpowder.
And deep down, I know—this fragile moment of laughter won’t last.

Because the sea always demands its price.

to be continued