Zay didn't blink.
He lifted a single hand toward the oncoming deluge.
[Forbidden Flame]
A sphere of pitch-black fire ignited above his palm, its surface rippling like liquid shadow. With a sharp flick, it surged upward. The moment it touched the falling water, the torrent sizzled, then vanished—evaporated in a flash of steam and silence.
The dragon roared in agony as the black flame ignored physics and logic alike. It pursued the beast—curving through the sky like a living predator, racing after the creature with cold determination.
In desperation, the horse below reared back and summoned another wave of monsters. Dozens of them erupted from the sea, leaping toward Zay mid-air—claws bared, maws stretched wide.
He exhaled, and the breath came out as frost.
A mist rolled from his body—dense, suffocating, and black as midnight.
The mist writhed…and then spikes erupted from within it, lashing in every direction like spears.
In less than a second, every creature the horse had summoned was eviscerated, their bodies falling into the sea like broken dolls.
The battlefield fell silent.
Zay's steps brought him face-to-face with the horse—until it melted into a gush of water, reforming with a splash atop the ship's helm behind him. The beast sought advantage, hoping to flank him.
It failed.
Zay's gaze didn't even shift—only his foot rose.
When it came down, it landed not on the ship—but on air. And in that instant, he appeared before the horse like a nightmare. The creature didn't even have time to blink.
Zay's hand shot out and clamped around its thick, scaled neck—a grip that didn't falter despite the creature's unnatural size. Before it could scream, before it could phase back into water or summon aid—
He squeezed.
Bones snapped like twigs underfoot. The entire beast—over 900 pounds of muscle and ethereal density—was hoisted effortlessly into the air. The sound of its neck breaking echoed across the ocean like a divine judgment. Its body spasmed once… then crumpled, lifeless, dissolving into droplets before it hit the deck.
Zay's eyes turned.
The Godcrab looked up at him.
A deep, ancient intelligence swirled in its gaze. The tension in the air could shatter steel. But instead of attacking, it did something no one expected.
It closed its eyes… and appeared to bow.
The sea churned softly as its massive form rotated away. Then, as if accepting defeat—or perhaps recognition—it sank back into the abyss, its silhouette fading like a myth swallowed by the ocean.
Zay slowly lifted one foot and stepped forward. When it came down again, he stood next to Silva and the commander, wind and mist curling behind him.
His voice was low—cold, but calm.
"When this body falls, and wakes up… protect him. If I have to come back…"
"...you both will die before that happens."
His hands rose, placing one palm on Silva's shoulder, the other on the commander's chest. A black radiance spread from his fingers, burning through their armor and clothing without flame or pain.
A mark emerged—etched deep into their backs, seared into aura and soul alike: the image of a massive skull, its eyes endless and abyssal, watching even as they vanished from view.
Zay's amethyst eyes slowly flickered back into being, replacing the black voids that had stared into the world. The white and red streaks in his hair returned.
Rain fell again.
Heavily.
It soaked through his hair as his body collapsed forward, entirely limp. Silva caught him on instinct, her arms trembling beneath the weight—not from mass, but from the sheer enormity of what had just transpired.
"W-w-what do I do... commander?" she whispered.
The commander said nothing for a long time.
The battlefield was empty. No trace of monsters, blood, or fire. The only sound was the creak of the ship and the fall of rain.
Then, finally, he spoke—voice hoarse, as if it hurt to breathe.
"Take him… to one of the private bed chambers… Do not let this prisoner… have… whatever that was… back. Protect him."
He swallowed hard, eyes fixed on Zay as though unsure whether to feel fear, awe, or pity.
Silva nodded.
She shifted Zay's body over her shoulder, carrying him with care, step by step. She passed the sailors—silent, stunned, unmoving—and descended into the lower quarters.
She laid him on a bed lined with soft silk sheets, unsure why such luxury was present aboard a vessel like this. The storm dimmed through the porthole. The silence felt sacred.
The fog inside the room moved.
From it, she emerged.
Nova Silverheart, tall and still, her long silver-and-violet hair trailing like ribbons in a breeze. Her rose gold aura flickered faintly, her eyes glowing golden-brown—fixed directly on Zay.
"You can go," she said, her voice smooth and distant.
Silva hesitated. Something about this woman tugged at her instincts—something dangerous.
But she nodded, bowed slightly, and stepped outside. She didn't walk far, though. She stood just outside the door, waiting, tense.
Inside, Nova stared down at the unconscious Zay.
Her golden eyes shimmered. For the first time, they lit up—not with power, but with recognition and respect.
Her lips parted slightly, revealing fangs. She leaned closer to his neck, the pulse beneath his skin hammering in her ears.
Then—she stopped.
She jerked back, forcing herself back. Her breathing was shallow. Her hands clenched the sides of the bed.
'Now… I know…' she thought.
She could hear his blood flowing through his body.
She let out a quiet breath and slowly lowered herself beside him, the silk sheets rustling softly beneath her weight. The glow in her golden-brown eyes dimmed as she turned to face him, their bodies separated by inches yet bound by something far heavier than proximity.
His heartbeat pulsed in her ears—a gentle, steady rhythm. No longer the storm. No longer the void. Just... peace.
She closed her eyes.
Her fangs vanishing as she closed her mouth and a smile crossed her face.
To the lullaby of his heartbeat, Nova, drifted into slumber—closer to Zay than anyone she had ever been near.
Renzo stepped out onto the deck, blinking against the rain that now fell softer. The battle was over. No cries. No shrieks. Just the hush of storm-kissed wood and the lingering scent of scorched salt and blood.
One by one, the other prisoners emerged. Cautious. Hesitant. Eyes wide, breaths shallow. None spoke at first. They only looked at one another.
Then, the Commander turned toward them.
His gaze swept over the bruised, battered prisoners and lingered for just a moment too long. With a grunt, he scoffed and slung his greatsword over his shoulder.
"Bitches," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he walked away.
The wood creaked under his boots as he returned to the helm of the ship.
Rain kept falling—lightly.
Two prisoners approached Renzo. They were large men with scruffy beards, broad shoulders, and tattooed chests. Light fell over all of them as they stood in silence, judging one another, tension thick between them—as if deciding whether to fight or not. Then, wordlessly, they all turned and walked away.
One of the prisoners paused, looking down at the corpse of a guard. Without hesitation, he lifted the body and tossed it into the sea, taking the sword the man had held.
Renzo wandered the ship for several minutes, searching for Zay. Eventually, he looked up a flight of cracked wooden steps and saw the woman in white—sitting on the floor, back leaned against the wall outside a door made of steel.
'This is my best chance... I guess?' he thought.
Renzo made his way toward her. She glanced up and quickly stood, gripping her spear tightly as she pointed it at him.
"Woah! Calm down. I'm here for my brother… I was wondering if you've seen him. He has white and red streaks in long black hair, pretty damn tall, and... was the reason you lived." Renzo smiled, lifting his hands in the air.
Silva studied him for a moment, then pointed the tip of her spear upward, leaning it against the wall with a sigh.
"Your brother is inside this room."
"Is he… alive?"
"As far as I can tell, yes."
Disgust crossed her face as she looked at him—making it very clear she'd rather not see him outside of bars. She turned and walked away, purposely choosing a path that didn't bring her near him.
'...What a bitch.'
Renzo approached the door and knocked, then reached for the small steel handle and pushed it open. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
There were several beds inside, each lined with silk sheets.
'Why the hell does a ship like this have shit like this?' he thought.
He couldn't shake the thought, but he exhaled slowly through his mouth when he saw Zay's long black hair. He walked over to the bed, pulled a wooden chair from a nearby table, and took a seat, not realizing Nova was on the other side of Zay.