After a few peaceful hours picking blackberries and stealing bites of warm sweetrolls dusted with cinnamon, Cane and Fergis made their way back to the Academy.
"This is the ship that was going to sell you into slavery?" Fergis asked between bites.
"Yep. I'd been adrift for a couple of weeks—water ran out the day before. I was in bad shape."
Fergis glanced sideways. "Still… that day changed everything."
Cane nodded. "Not just that day. Everything since I left on the Veda. If things had gone to plan, I'd be a journeyman blacksmith by now. Traveling. Selling blades."
Fergis gave a low whistle. From a quiet forge life to mythic arrows, interwoven armor, and command over a raid group… Cane hadn't been nudged by fate—he'd been hurled.
Cane touched the falconer rune at the back of his hand. His eyes shimmered amber, and the night lit up with clarity.
A single ship rested peacefully in the cove. Sails furled, anchor down. Lantern light flickered across the deck where a few sailors played dice. Two guards paced slowly, and a vest-wearing man stood at the helm, staring out over the water.
"Try to keep the fire away from the sails," Cane said quietly, lowering the rune's power.
Fergis blinked. "Sure. Why?"
"I want the ship."
Fergis chuckled. "Seen Ginzo's beast form yet?"
"Nope. But he's listed as frontline, so I assume it's tanky."
"Something swampy," Fergis said. "Brambles, mold, branches… terrified of fire."
Later that night, twelve students walked quietly in single file along the shadowed coast, guided by three instructors. The journey was calm, almost too calm—like the night itself was holding its breath.
Cane: The Twisted Snake is anchored bow-to-shore. Two guards on deck—one port, one starboard. They rotate every quarter hour.
Cane stopped at a high outcropping and motioned for silence. The cloud cover had thickened. Visibility was low.
From his ring, Cane withdrew a small jar of black soot-grease, something he'd made back in the smithy. He smeared it over his face and hands.
Fergis:Let me use that too.
Provo:Me too, please.
Cane:Pass it around to anyone who wants it.
Zio:You've done night missions before, Cane?
Cane:Only if kitchen raids count.
That drew a few quiet chuckles.
Provo: All set, Cane.
Cane:Perfect. Follow me—we'll scout. Everyone else hold position. Provo, ring on—we don't need you waterlogged.
Provo:Got it.
Cane bent low, wading into the surf. It rose to his chest before he started swimming. The water-repellent ring made the strokes clumsy, but the air barrier kept him warm and dry.
In minutes, they reached the bow of the ship. Provo pressed both palms to the wooden hull and closed his eyes, extending his senses deep into the ship's body.
Provo: Eighteen onboard. Two on the main deck. Thirteen more on the second. One alone in what has to be the captain's quarters. Two in the hold… playing cards, I think.
Cane:Perfect. Let's head back and plan the assault.
Selene frowned as she monitored the psi-comm with the other instructors, the bracelet on her wrist faintly glowing.
"That's a lot of sailors for twelve students."
Ignasius nodded. "I could lace a few fireballs through the hull. Burn it down to the waterline. What do you think, Archmage?"
Telamon didn't look up. "I think Cane knows something we don't. Let's give him space."
—
Cane:Alright… lookouts are the first priority. I need range fighters—Provo and Fumi, you're on that. Each take one when I give the signal.
Provo:No problem.
Fumi:Understood.
Cane:Siya, keep them from hitting the deck when they drop.
Siya:They'll land like feathers.
Cane:Second deck holds thirteen. Any concerns?
Siya:That's a tight squeeze—if they're sleeping, we've got a shot. But if even one alerts the rest…
Yuta:We'll all have to come through the hatch. Two or three will stall while the rest grab weapons.
Cane:Right. But most of their weapons—and armor—are currently sitting in my work bin.
Siya:Wait—what?
Cane:That's how I caught them. Their first mate showed up at the smithy for a rush job. Full wagon of sabers and mail. The blacksmith asked for help. I recognized Skye immediately.
Zio:Cane... maybe lead with that next time?
Cane chuckled, undeterred by the stunned silence on the channel.
Cane:Once we're on deck, my team hits the captain's quarters. Siya's team handles the second deck. Try to breach quickly. If anyone starts arming up, rush to the lower stairs.
Siya: Ginzo and I will lead. If it's quiet, we slip past to the lower stairs. If not—we break through hard. The rest of us will link with Yuta's crew to sweep the second deck.
Yuta: If they're unarmed and half-asleep, this should go smooth. But we'll be ready for noise.
Cane: Watch for muskets—someone might have one stashed. Be ruthless. These are slavers. That said… if they surrender, you can accept.
A moment of silence followed—tight, focused. Then:
Fergis:He's done this before.
Dhalia:He makes it look like he has, anyway.
Zio:Let's just not screw it up.
Cane: Focus on your task and we'll be fine.
One by one, the group slipped on their rings and waded into the surf, the dark ocean parting around them like oil on glass. Cane touched the falconer's rune at the back of his hand. His vision flared gold, and the Twisted Snake's deck illuminated in vivid clarity—lantern light, shadows, idle movements.
Cane: The guards just rotated. Port and starboard are fresh. Provo—take starboard. Fumi, port. Siya, follow my team to the rudder. We'll hit the captain's quarters. Everyone call out when in position.
Cane led Siya, Dhalia, Fergis, and Clara through the surf toward the rudder. A small portal window glowed faintly, the flicker of a candle marking the captain's quarters.
Cane:Orion might be awake. Keep it quiet. Sea sounds and rigging should cover us.
He climbed the rudder with steady hands, then leapt, catching the deck rail with his fingertips. A quick scan. Clear.
He moved hand-over-hand, shifting starboard until a crate offered partial cover. Swiping his ring, Cane pulled a coiled rope and lowered it into the water.
Siya:Nice adjustment.
Cane:Move behind the crate. Provo, Fumi—status?
Provo:Lining up now. Standing by.
Fumi:Obstructed. He's kneeling for some reason.
Cane:No rush. Hold position. Siya will call it.
Back at the rope, Cane hauled his team up one by one. They crouched low behind the crate, clustered beside Siya.
Fumi:Target's up. I have the shot.
Provo:Still ready.
Siya edged forward, hands raised, eyes narrowing in focus.
Siya:Countdown from three. Ready?
3... 2... 1... Shoot.
The starboard arrow struck true—clean through the eye. The guard didn't fall. He locked in place, stiff as a statue.
A heartbeat later, a stone the size of a fist smashed the port guard's forehead. Same reaction—no collapse, no thud. Just silence and stillness.
Siya stepped forward, both hands glowing faintly as he slowly lowered their bodies to the deck without a sound.
Siya:Both down. No alert.
Cane:Move into position for the second deck. My team's heading to the captain's door.
Cane motioned, and they crept across the deck like shadows. At the cabin door, Clara held up a hand.
Clara:I might be able to sense what's inside.
Cane nodded. She pressed her palms against the wood, eyes closing in concentration.
Clara:Door's barred from the inside. Captain's at his desk. Writing or reading. Not asleep.
Fergis:Great. A night owl.
Siya cursed silently. The hammocks were packed so tightly across the second deck, it was impossible to reach the lower hatch without brushing a few.
Siya:We're gonna wake them for sure.
Back outside the captain's quarters, Cane unslung his shield and drew Starstrike, hefting the axe in one hand.
Cane:We're ready to go in hard. I suggest walking in like you live there—and curse out anyone who bats an eye.
Siya nodded, motioning for Ginzo to lead. He followed casually, his posture lazy, unconcerned. Sure enough, he had to step over a low-slung hammock. Its occupant stirred, squinting.
"The hell you doing?"
"Piss off, jackass. You're blocking the door," Siya growled, dropping his voice half an octave.
The sailor blinked, muttered something unintelligible, and turned his head.
Siya:Shit… we're through. I can't believe that worked. We're ready to head down to the third level.
Yuta:We're in position on Deck Two.
Cane: Counting down. 3… 2… 1… GO!
Cane slammed Starstrike into the captain's door. The enchanted axe cleaved through the wood and instantly froze the frame. The door shattered like brittle glass as Cane surged forward—shield up, ready to—
A blast of magical force threw him backward. Cane flew through the doorway, bounced off the deck, and lost hold of his weapon.
Inside, the room flared with sudden light.
Orion shot up from his desk and grabbed a pistol.
BOOM!
Clara raised her blunderbuss and fired from the hip. The desk exploded into splinters, peppering Orion with hundreds of wood shards. He stumbled. The pistol clattered from his hand and discharged into the floor—striking Fergis in the leg.
FIREBALL.
Fergis's hands erupted in flames. He hurled fire across the room, igniting one wall as Orion dove behind his bed.
Cane recovered, springing back inside—this time gripping Starbolt. His eyes flicked toward the bed. A faint hiss reached his ears.
A fuse.
Cane dove, snatched it up, and hurled the bomb out the open porthole window in a single motion.
Splash.
"The hell..." he muttered, glancing behind the bed.
Orion was gone.
"Did he have a portal rune?" Fergis limped over.
"No rune," he muttered. "It's something else."
Cane flipped the bed with a grunt, revealing a hidden hatch.
"Follow."
The hatch opened into a narrow chute, ending at another porthole—this one already swung wide. Seawater lapped below.
Cane dove through. His teammates followed. He touched his falcon rune mid-fall, his eyes glowing amber.
Water clarified, revealing the faint wake of something swimming fast—disturbing the surface in a tight ripple.
"There! Twenty meters out—he's stealthed!" Cane cut through the water in pursuit.
Clara and Fergis followed close behind.
Dhalia paused at the edge and closed her eyes, reaching into the element. "I've got him."
A spiraling funnel erupted twenty meters away, catching the swimmer mid-stroke. Water roared as Orion was spun into the air, screaming—his voice garbled and choked.
"Hold him there. Let him black out—we'll drag him back onboard," Cane called. "I'm going to lower a rope."
—
Meanwhile, Third Deck
Siya dropped from the ladder and landed in a squat—arms raised, expecting resistance. What he didn't expect were two nude figures, frozen mid-motion around a barrel of spilled cards.
"What the—?"
BOOM. A musket fired. Pain shot through Siya's arm.
A massive shadow dropped behind him.
Ginzo's beast form burst into the room, branches and brambles writhing from his arms. Covered in mold and reeking swamp, he struck like a living storm. Mud and thorns flew.
Screams filled the air.
Everything the beast touched erupted in agony and tangled roots.
—
Second Deck
Yuta charged through the crew deck with a black spear raised high.
"SURRENDER AT ONCE OR BE KILLED!"
Half-asleep and disarmed, the sailors stumbled from hammocks. Some tried to fight. Most tripped. The moment collapsed into shouting and fists.
Within moments, the fight was over.
With no weapons, no leadership, and no chance, the slaver crew surrendered.