Screams, steel clashing and the crackle of gunfire.

  The deck was a battlefield. Bodies crashed against the blood-slick wood, some screaming, some already dead. Blades carved through flesh. Bullets tore through skulls. The air stank of salt, blood, and smoke.

  Sam moved fast. Sword in one hand, gun in other, cutting down anything that got too close. A blade came for his throat—he ducked. A gun aimed for his back—he twisted, then sliced up. His breathing was steady, but his arms burned from the endless motion.

  There were too many.

  More figures leapt onto the deck, their weapons gleaming under flashes of lightning. They surged toward him in a wave—three, no, four at once. He fired off two shots, dropped one, maybe two. But the others were already closing in.

  Too close.

  A sword flashed toward his ribs—then stopped.

  Sam barely had time to process it. One second, the enemy was mid-strike. The next, they were frozen, sword still raised, eyes wide in shock. A thin red line split across their chest—silent, clean. Then, without another sound, they collapsed.

  The others hesitated, eyes darting toward the source of the attack.

  A man stood beside Sam, a blade in hand. Unstained. Unsullied. His movements had been so fast, so precise, that the blood never even touched him.

  Sam let out a short breath. “Thanks, Jin.”

  No answer. Just a small, almost imperceptible nod before he stepped forward.

  In the next instant, three more bodies hit the deck.

  Then—

  A rush of air. A deep, heavy hum.

  A halberd cut through the chaos, carving a path through the invaders. The Runebringer. It sang through the storm, its blade flashing as it cleaved through flesh and bone.

  Nyx moved like a storm, weaving between enemies with a dancer’s grace and a warrior’s fury. Her halberd spun, striking, cutting, crushing. Limbs flew. Blood splattered across the deck.

  By the time she stopped, nothing moved around her but corpses.

  She turned, catching Sam’s eye. “You look like hell.”

  Sam wiped blood from his cheek. “I’ve had worse days.”

  A body behind him groaned, still clinging to life. Nyx took a step forward, raised the Runebringer—

  The halberd came down.

  The fight wasn’t over yet.

  “Who would’ve thought? The Chaos Tournament is a damn breeding ground for rats. These bastards just keep coming—like ants, but worse,” Sam grumbled, slicing down another attacker.

  Nyx ignored him. Her focus was on the ship’s captain, Shelby.

  At first glance, he looked like nothing more than a frail old man. But on the enemy ship, he was cutting through their forces at a terrifying pace.

  Nyx watched his movements closely. They reminded her of the martial arts used by Sentinels and Watchers, but there was something else—something she couldn’t quite place.

  The fight was under control, but unease still settled in her chest.

  Nigel and the others were somewhere else. There was no way to know if they were safe. All they could do was survive.

  “The captain should be done soon,” a voice said.

  Nyx turned.

  A warrior stood beside her, clad in black and red armor, his blade thin and curved, unlike any she had seen before.

  If not for him, the battle would have been much worse.

  She and Sam were strong—experienced—but the sheer number of enemies was overwhelming.

  Jin had changed that. His movements were sharp, precise, almost effortless. His martial arts weren’t just refined—they were something else entirely.

  The invaders never stood a chance.

  Nyx wiped blood from her halberd, eyes flicking toward Jin. “You fight like a ghost. Silent, fast… and way too clean.”

  Jin didn’t look at her. He adjusted the grip on his sword, scanning the battlefield. “A messy blade is a careless one.”

  She smirked. “That so? You planning to keep cutting down enemies without spilling a drop?”

  A pause. Then, finally, he glanced at her. “If I can.”

  Nyx let out a short chuckle, shaking her head. “I’d call that impressive… but it’s also kind of creepy.”

  Jin didn’t reply.

  Nyx rolled her shoulders, gripping the Runebringer tighter. “Well, as long as you’re on our side, I won’t complain.”

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  Jin gave the slightest tilt of his head.

  And with that, she turned, ready to jump back into the fight.

  The bodies of the fallen piled up until, finally, the invasion came to an end. It was over the moment Shelby struck down the enemy captain. With a single motion, he conjured a massive ice stake and sent it crashing into the enemy ship, splitting it apart.

  Then, without any apparent effort, he leapt back onto his own vessel. His voice cut through the chaos, loud enough for all to hear.

  “We’ve dealt with the invasion, but the battle isn’t over!”

  He raised a hand, pointing forward.

  Beyond them, the storm raged.

  Dozens of ships clashed amidst the violent waves, locked in a brutal fight.

  Shelby stepped up to Jin, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Hope your little nap was worth it.”

  Jin gave a slight nod. He didn’t remember anything, but whatever he had learned while unconscious… he knew he’d need it soon.

  Sam let out an exaggerated sigh, wiping blood from his face. “Unbelievable. Here I am, fighting for my life, and they send you off to take a damn nap.” He waved a hand toward Jin’s armor, squinting. “And seriously, how the hell do you move in that thing? And more importantly—how do you keep it so damn clean?!”

  Jin was about to respond, but a massive explosion erupted in front of the ship, snapping everyone's attention forward.

  They had entered the battlefield.

  But the number of ships was overwhelming.

  “Form a defensive line! Anyone with barrier skills, deploy them now!” Shelby’s voice boomed over the chaos.

  He took a deep breath, raising both arms. His bracelet flickered, projecting a glowing message into the air.

  Instantly, a massive, transparent dome of ice surged up around the ship.

  The barrier locked into place just as cannon fire rained down, bouncing harmlessly off its frozen surface. It shielded them from the chaos, keeping them from colliding with other vessels as the battlefield exploded into an all-out war.

  Not much passed until cracks appeared.

  Thin at first, like veins of frost running across the surface of the Glacier Bastion. Then—spiderwebbing outward, deepening, widening.

  Shelby clenched his fists, his breathing heavy. Ice abilities were powerful, but they had limits. And against thousands of enemy ships, that limit was fast approaching.

  “Damn it…” he muttered under his breath. He could feel it now—the weight of every cannon strike, every impact pushing against his body like a sledgehammer. The reinforced defenses weren’t enough. Even with the other participants reinforcing the barrier with their own abilities, it was too much.

  Another impact. The ship lurched violently, the sound of splintering ice and wood cutting through the storm.

  The barrier wouldn’t last.

  Shelby took a deep breath and raised his voice over the chaos.

  “Listen up! The moment this barrier falls, we fight! Don’t hesitate—just survive!”

  Some of the crew swallowed hard. Others tightened their grips on their weapons, bracing themselves for what was coming.

  On the deck, Sam wiped blood from his cheek. “So what’s the plan? Keep patching it up until we run out of ice?”

  Nyx’s knuckles whitened around her halberd. “We need an escape. Now.”

  But there was no escape.

  The next explosion shattered everything.

  The Glacier Bastion exploded outward, sending shards of ice flying in every direction. The ship rocked violently, nearly capsizing as the full force of the battlefield crashed onto them.

  Cannon fire tore through the air. Ropes shot across the gap between ships. Enemies surged forward.

  And on the nearest warship, a single figure stepped forward.

  An enemy captain. Cloaked in deep crimson robes, his hand glowing with an eerie golden light. A skill sigil ignited in front of him, swirling with violent energy.

  Before anyone could react—

  The golden spear of light tore through Shelby’s chest.

  It was so fast, so precise, there wasn’t even time for him to scream.

  One second, he was standing at the helm.

  The next, his body jerked backward, the force of the attack sending him collapsing onto the deck.

  Silence.

  For the first time since the battle began, no one moved.

  Nyx’s breath caught in her throat. Sam’s smirk vanished. Even the enemy hesitated, as if waiting for some final command from the old captain.

  But Shelby did not get back up.

  His blood spread across the wooden planks, seeping into the storm-slicked deck.

  The captain of the ship—the man who had led them through the chaos—was gone.

  And they were alone.

  The enemy didn’t wait.

  They swarmed.

  Figures in dark armor leapt onto the deck, weapons raised. The storm raged above, rain hammering down as the crew scrambled to fight back.

  Sam exhaled sharply. “Alright. I’ll say it. We’re screwed.”

  Nyx gritted her teeth. “Not yet.”

  But Jin didn’t hear them.

  The moment Shelby’s body hit the ground, something inside him tightened.

  A feeling he couldn’t name. A pulse of urgency. Something buried deep in his mind—trying to surface.

  But he couldn’t remember.

  What did I learn?

  He clenched his fists. Nothing. His mind was blank. Nothing came back.

  Yet—

  His body moved on its own.

  His fingers brushed against his inventory. He felt something—paper.

  His breath hitched. He pulled it out.

  A small, weathered talisman. Black ink, half-faded from time. A single word written across it.

  Mizuchi.

  Jin didn’t think.

  He spoke the name aloud.

  The instant the word left his lips—the world changed.

  The air stilled. The storm stopped.

  The ocean—silent.

  Every ship, every fighter on the battlefield—they all froze.

  In the blink of an eye, the sea erupted.

  Water split apart, rising into a swirling vortex as something massive coiled through the depths.

  A serpent.

  A titanic, impossibly long, serpent. Its body shimmered in the stormlight—scales reflecting blue and silver, shifting like liquid metal. Its eyes, twin glowing orbs of cold, endless white.

  It rose higher.

  Taller than the ships. Taller than the storm.

  And then—it struck.

  The nearest warship vanished in an instant.

  No impact. No wreckage. Just—gone. A single swipe of Mizuchi’s tail, and the vessel collapsed into the sea like it had never existed.

  Screams.

  The next ship tried to retreat. Too late.

  Mizuchi’s massive, coiling form twisted through the air, crashing down with the force of a typhoon. Masts snapped like twigs. Sails tore apart. The waves swallowed everything.

  Lightning flashed.

  The battlefield was no longer a battle. It was a massacre.

  Dozens of ships—crushed, capsized, erased.

  The ocean churned with the wreckage, and still— Mizuchi did not stop.

  It moved like a force of nature. Like vengeance itself.

  It turned, its gaze locked onto Jin.

  He froze.

  Everything else had stopped mattering. The battle, the chaos, the screams—all of it faded into nothing.

  Only him and the serpent’s endless, pale gaze. It wasn’t hostility. Wasn’t rage.

  It was something else.

  Jin couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

  His mind screamed at him to move, to run, to do something—

  And then, Mizuchi blinked.

  Just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone.

  The serpent coiled backward, sinking effortlessly into the sea.

  The ocean, once raging with fury—was calm.

  The storm began to clear. And for the first time since the battle began— silence.

  Jin let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

  His hands were shaking.

  Nyx’s voice cut through the silence. “Jin… what the hell just happened?”

  Sam was still staring at the ocean, wide-eyed. “…Did we just win?”

  No answer.

  Because Jin wasn’t sure either.

  Mizuchi had come. It had annihilated their enemies.

  And then—it had looked at him.

  Like it knew him. Like it was waiting.

  Jin swallowed hard.

  He had spoken the name, but he had not controlled it.

  And for some reason—that terrified him more than anything else.