Silas's raspy voice still buzzed in Elian's ears, more painful than the gravitational weight currently crushing his joints.
Elara... sacrificed?
The word hit Elian's consciousness like a sledgehammer, shattering the remnants of calm he had built over months under Lunaria's tutelage.
Dark purple smoke from the Inquisitors of the Void crept over the whale-bone pier, carrying a deadly chill. Under the influence of this alien energy, the Ring of Weight on Elian's finger resonated wildly. The suppression symbols on the ring's surface glowed pitch black, pulling Elian's left hand down with a force that seemed intent on punching through the pier floor.
"Ugh... AAAARGH!"
Elian groaned, his androgenous face twisted in excruciating pain. Sweat mixed with blood from his nose dripped onto the wooden floorboards, which began to crack. He felt as if he were being crushed by an invisible mountain.
"Don't listen to him, Elian! Focus!" Lunaria's shout echoed through the haze.
The Elf Queen moved like silver lightning. She was no longer holding back. Every arrow she loosed carried pure mana that burned the Void smoke until it hissed. However, these Inquisitors were no ordinary opponents. They were entities that had discarded their humanity to become vessels for darkness. When one fell, the smoke from its body only strengthened the remaining three.
Silas, his ankle tendon severed, laughed maniacally as he crawled away. "You're late, Vane! The Holy Church of Celestia smelled her talent long ago. They don't want a 'Saintess' to lead the flock; they want an energy battery to summon their false God of Light! And Vane blood is the best fuel!"
Rage.
It was the purest emotion Elian had ever felt. Not a burning, explosive anger, but a cold, dense, bottomless wrath. He felt as if the entire world around him shared in this insult.
The World did not appreciate its child being toyed with.
Unbeknownst to Elian, the tremors beneath the pier grew stronger. The black coral reefs beneath the Broken Fang Islands began to shift. The sea water around the pier began to churn, not from waves, but from the fury radiating from the earth's core.
Elian forced his right hand—the hand still free from the ring's burden—to reach into his robe. He didn't reach for his Karambit. He grabbed the remaining Holy Salt that had been mixed with his blood from the incident in the lower hold.
"If I am a curse..." Elian whispered, his voice sounding alien, deep, carrying an echo that made the Inquisitors pause. "Then I will become your hell."
Elian slammed the fistful of bloody salt onto the pier floor, directly beneath his ring-burdened left finger.
BOOM!
Not an explosion of fire, but an explosion of gravity.
The weight of the Ring of Weight, which had been crushing Elian, was suddenly forcibly channeled into the pier floor through the blood catalyst. A circle of black light spread beneath Elian's feet.
CRACKAAA!
The sturdy whale-bone pier shattered instantly. Not because it broke, but because the weight defied physical logic. Two Inquisitors within a three-meter radius of Elian suddenly fell to their knees, their bodies crushed by gravitational pressure that increased thousands of times in a split second.
"W-what is this?!" one Inquisitor screamed before his head hit the floor with force enough to fracture his skull.
Elian stood up. His body still trembled, his breath came in gasps, but his eyes... those black eyes now flashed with a very faint liquid gold light. The Mirror of Souls he had seen in the temple seemed to cast a shadow over his power now.
The World granted him a path.
Elian crawled—no, he glided—toward the stunned Silas. The weight of the ring no longer felt like an enemy, but like momentum he controlled.
Slash!
The Karambit in Elian's right hand snatched at Silas's neck. However, Elian didn't sever it all at once. He sliced slowly, letting Silas feel the sharpness of the steel blade coated in Silver Oil.
"Tell me..." Elian hissed right into Silas's ear. "Which convent is it really? If you lie, I will let the parasite in your body eat you alive from the inside out."
Silas struggled, blood spurting from his mouth. "Convent... Saint Marigold... Forbidden Sector... They are moving her tomorrow... You won't make it in time, Kid! You're just lucky trash—"
THUD.
Elian buried his Karambit into Silas's heart, twisting the blade until the traitor's heartbeat stopped forever. Elian's face showed no satisfaction. He remained flat, cold, and empty. A part of his emotions seemed to die along with Silas.
"Elian! We have to go! Captain Barossa is already weighing anchor!" Lunaria appeared at his side, grabbing Elian's shoulder.
The remaining Inquisitors exploded into a massive cloud of black smoke, trying to swallow them both. Lunaria released her mana seal for a moment. Pure, blinding silver light exploded from her body, driving the darkness back to the edge of the pier.
"Run!"
They leaped over the ruins of the shattered pier, navigating swaying rope bridges, while the pirates of Broken Fang began to emerge with weapons, confused by the chaos.
The Banshee's Wail had already started to drift away from the dock. Barossa stood at the stern, firing his pistol at the pursuing mob.
"JUMP!" Barossa shouted.
Lunaria grabbed Elian's waist and leaped ten meters. They landed hard on the wet deck of the ship.
"Raise the sails! Get us out of here!" Barossa roared.
The ship sped away from the Broken Fang harbor, leaving behind plumes of black smoke and the screams of pirates.
Elian lay on the deck, staring at the grey sky that had begun to drizzle. His left hand still felt heavy, but his heart was far heavier. The information about Elara was poison spreading through his soul.
She isn't safe. She is a battery. This world truly has no place for the sincere.
"Elian," Lunaria knelt beside him, trying to wipe the blood from her student's face.
Elian swatted Lunaria's hand away. He stood up on shaky legs, staring west—toward the Holy Empire of Celestia.
"Master," Elian said. His voice no longer trembled. It was cold, steady, and held an authority terrifying for a child his age. "How long until we reach the mainland?"
Lunaria fell silent seeing the change in Elian's eyes. That gaze... was no longer the gaze of a victim seeking protection. It was the gaze of a predator calculating the distance to its prey.
"Three days if the wind holds," Lunaria replied.
"Good," Elian turned, walking toward his cargo cabin without looking back. "Three days to kill the last of my humanity."
Behind him, Captain Barossa and Jax could only fall silent watching the small figure walk with a burden that seemed heavy enough to crack the deck wood.
They knew the boy who boarded their ship in Stormwatch was gone. All that remained was a shadow thirsty for blood and truth.