Ewan’s Ryvia transmitted his conclusion to his team.

  “Are we leaving…empty handed, Boss?” Kidd asked as a giant ball of lava shoved him back, grating the inky cloak, and singeing his hair—his tips curled. Nana heaved a boulder of water from the ocean and met the lava’s advance, the sizzle and the steam reaching for the clouds, the fishes in her plunder meeting their grisly end, as she panted, drops of sweat rolling down her cheek.

  “No, we’ll get something out of this,” Ewan muttered. “It might even be better than what’s on the ship. Just follow my lead and get ready to race back to the ship. Stefan, prepare Nyte for a quick launch.”

  And when they heeded his command and their intent of retreat tipped the scales even further against them, he played his hand with his spell.

  Deadlife!

  “Awaken, my soulless…,” he whispered for the undead.

  The dead Ashevas paved the waters here, their blood soaked the ocean, and he designed them all back to life. The mangled corpses rose from the water to become his soulless, streams of water dribbling down, some leaving their severed limbs behind, the eerie blue scarring the light of their eyes, and they all howled at his bid. A bout of silence washed away the mayhem of the battlefield, and the conflict paused to confirm Ewan’s purpose for the spell. Quinn fumed while Orson glowered at him, his nostrils flaring.

  “I wish I could do this quietly, alas… So long, my friends.” And Ewan bowed and bade his farewell with a smile, for his soulless carried the loot of the chaos—they all had their storage artifacts intact. Kidd guffawed and pushed back the dazed Fireborn while Lance saw Nana and Stefan back to the warship, the soulless flooding the top deck, pouring in one after another.

  Nyte fired the thrusters at their max, and Stormfalcon ripped the waves ahead and aimed for the skies. Kidd too bolted back, and they all waited for Ewan. But before he returned to savor the prize of his device, his instincts blared an alarm—a shadow zipped out of the ocean, and as the strange spike in Ice-Anima around him disturbed Ewan’s Varos for a moment, a jagged blade ran through his heart, thick blood dripping down its edge with chunks of flesh dangling about.

  “Nailed it,” the shadow said behind him.

  “…Shadowfarer,” Ewan breathed the words, his inhales struggling in whistles, the horror embracing him before the torment arrived.

  …Sindra…Dark Endued!

  The struggle for the skill drained him, and as his heart strained to thump, his skyrocketed affinity choked the hostile Anima that was of the same element. And when the blade slipped out, when his maimed heart gushed the blood out of his chest in its ending beat, as the last thread of malice despaired, the world blacked out, and the screams and bellows of his team faded away. Nana was the loudest among them, she would cry again…

  …..

  “He’ll live!” Kidd’s muffled yell buzzed his ears when he came to, but he fainted the next second with a gasping breath.

  …

  …

  “I can't heal him!!” Nana cried as her tears drenched him and her blurred image cracked the darkness around Ewan, but he only stayed awake for a moment again.

  “Nothing will happen to him; we won't let it…” Stefan’s voice dimmed and died.

  …

  …

  “He’s not breathing! Boss!!” Kidd bawled, clutching Ewan’s wet shirt.

  “Shut up! He’s breathing, nothing will happen,” Stefan said, his trembling hands working on Ewan’s heart, pouring the potion, as Iris labored to heal him, her roots fidgeting around his gaping chest.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  …

  …

  “It’s working! His heart is closing!” Lance shouted. “Use more!”

  “He needs more blood!” Kidd hollered. “Hurry up!”

  “We need to remove the hostile Anima first,” Stefan said.

  “There’s none, I checked! Just hurry up!!” Kidd screamed.

  “Don’t mess it up, be careful, check for any shrapnel too,” Lance said.

  “Wait, he’s opening his eyes,” Kidd said, soaked in tears and blood. “Boss, do you recognize me?” He waved his hands before Ewan.

  “Don’t stress him, let him rest,” Stefan said.

  “Stop…yelling…my ears’ are ringing…,” Ewan barely whispered in a grinding voice. “What’s the situation?”

  “Boss…” Kidd collapsed on his butt, sobbing, wiping his snot and tears.

  “Where’s Nana?” Ewan asked, leaning on Stefan to get up, waves of agony running through him—the aggression of pain numbed his chest.

  “She fainted…,” Stefan replied, looking to the side of the deck where she lay, bathed in her tears. Toast guarded her, feeble and frail himself from Ewan’s wound; his trembling legs barely propped him up, but his whetted eyes remained on the possibilities of any enemy.

  “Sir…your Astylinds…,” Lance said then looked at the carnage outside. The fire of blue incinerated the ocean, the stirred ashes grayed the sky, the smoldering ships toiled to stay afloat, the melted warships lost their flight, and the deathly wails hung in the air long after the deaths. Orange burned blue amidst of it all, as the source of butchery, doused in blood that dried from his fire, and he roared again and blasted off, a ring of fire exploding away from him.

  “Wrath Inferno…” Ewan muttered. It was the skill of royalty, and its rampage of rage stood up to its name.

  “He burned down everything in the area, even killed that Fire Snake and injured that Fireborn…he also destroyed the merchant ship… We paid all the loot for the others to back off,” Lance said. “Frost and Ghost chased after that shadow, sir…he probably got away.”

  Ewan nodded. “Come back, I’m fine.” His words hummed and rolled out, and Orange came to a screeching halt, his glazed eyes staring back at Stormfalcon, and he launched at it, barging into the protective cover, and slamming into Ewan’s chest, bawling as his fire flickered and turned orange again.

  “The wound will open…” Stefan mumbled from the side but did nothing when Ewan stopped him.

  Soon, when his sobs quietened and he drowsed, Frost and Ghost shot out of the ocean and jumped on Ewan, their mingled wails stirring up the deck. Nana woke up from their clamor, and her eyes teared up again when she saw him, and she too joined his Astylinds and squeezed him, squalling away—Toast finally rested and closed his eyes, snoozing while flinching from pain.

  Ewan sighed and caressed Nana’s head, comforting her. “I didn’t break my promise, I didn’t die,” he said, then looked at the three men—dried blood smeared their grins, and their tears cut a path down. “Gather whatever parts you can from the warships, we’re leaving when you’re done.”

  “Yes, sir!” They saluted.