High above the churning world below, a massive wooden hull cut through the clouds. At the helm stood Michael Galleon, a man in his fifties with weathered skin and sharp blonde hair. He squinted through a brass spyglass, his leather gear creaking as he pivoted.

  “Incoming, starboard side!” Galleon barked.

  “What are we looking at, First Mate?” A booming voice rumbled from the deck. Captain Petrus was a mountain of a man with hair as black as midnight. He was bare-chested save for the leather harness that secured two massive war hammers to his back.

  “[Air Variant Seagulls]

  Petrus didn't blink. “Man the cannons!” he commanded, his voice carrying over the whistling wind. “JJ, Sue, Robert—ready spells and arrows. Protect the rigging! Marvin, Norman—hold the deck. If any of those feathered rats land, gut 'em. Paul, keep her steady. Avery, get to the core and make sure the [Glimmer Shroud]

  Petrus glanced at the healers. “Jean, Adrian—stay in the hatch. Don't come out unless someone’s bleeding out. I’ll be in my quarters meditating to stabilize our aura. Galleon has the deck!”

  “You heard the Captain!” Galleon roared as Petrus descended. “Get to your stations, you scallywags! And wait for my mark!”

  A premature shook the ship as a starboard cannon fired, the shot sailing harmlessly through a cloud far wide of the flock.

  “I said on my mark, you idiots!” Galleon hissed, his hand raised as he tracked the lead bird’s flight path. The seagulls dove, their wings shimmering with elemental mana. “Wait... wait... wait... FIRE!

  The flock of fifty [Air Variant Seagulls]Silver Griffin. The wind-slashes whistled across the deck, but the wooden hull held firm, suffering only minor splintering.

  "Brace yourselves! They’re circling back!" Galleon roared, his hand on the rail. "Full speed! Avery, give the Shroud a taste of the reserves!"

  The seagulls split their formation. A few landed on the port deck, their talons clattering on the wood, while the rest climbed high into the sun, tucking their wings for a terminal-velocity dive. Arrows and spells streaked upward, intersecting the divers and sending feathered corpses tumbling onto the deck.

  Marvin and Norman moved to intercept the boarders.

  Marvin, encased in heavy plate armor, stepped forward with his shield raised. A seagull slammed into him, its beak snapping at his visor, but he held his ground. With a grunt, he shoved the beast back with a shield-bash that echoed through the ship.

  Norman moved like a shadow. Clad in light leather and wielding a long-hafted spear, he didn't block—he flowed. He lunged, his weapon blurring as his [Multi-Thrust]

  “Don’t destroy them all, Norman!” A hatch slammed open and Avery popped his head out, his black beard dusted with glowing mana-soot. “The [Glimmer Shroud]

  “Ha! I’ll try!” Norman shouted, spinning his spear to ward off a fresh attacker. “But only if you fry some up for me once we’re clear. I have a serious hankering for wings!”

  “If the Captain allows it!” Avery grunted, grabbing two of the bloodied carcasses by their wings and dragging them down into the hold.

  As the hatch hissed shut, Marvin finished his first kill with a heavy downward cleave, just as three more seagulls crashed onto the deck, their eyes wild with hunger.

  Avery dragged the heavy carcasses deep into the bowels of the , the sound of combat on the deck above fading into a rhythmic thumping. He hauled them onto a stained butcher’s table and worked with practiced, grim efficiency. His knife flashed, carving the [Air Variant] meat into raw, mana-rich chunks.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Blood stained his apron as he gathered the offering and hurried into the core chamber.

  Inside a heavy iron cage etched with glowing, humming runes, the [Glimmer Shroud]

  Avery unlatched a small feeding slot and tossed the fresh meat inside, snapping the hatch shut instantly.

  The Shroud ran forward, its hunger overriding its fear. It fell upon the meat with a row of needle-thin, serrated teeth, devouring the seagull flesh in seconds. As the creature processed the mana-heavy meal, the runes on its cage flared to life. The cage wasn't just a prison; it was a siphon.

  The Shroud let out a low, pained warble as the runes began to drain the excess energy from its body, funneling the raw mana directly into the ship’s wooden hull. The ship groaned as it drank the power, the floorboards beneath Avery’s feet vibrating with renewed life.

  “Don’t worry, little guy,” Avery whispered, his voice cracking. He pressed a hand against the cold iron of the cage, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he watched the creature huddle in the corner. “I’ll get you more. I promise.”

  “Captain! We need you!” Galleon roared, pounding on the heavy oak doors before spinning to blast a seagull out of the air with his flintlock. “We’re getting overrun!”

  The double doors didn't just open; they were flung wide as Captain Petrus stepped onto the deck, his two massive hammers already beginning to hum with power. He locked onto a cluster of five birds pinning Marvin to the deck, their beaks shrieking against his plate armor.

  Petrus didn't run. He hurled one of the hammers with a violent flick of his wrist.

  [Skill Activated: Sonic Impact]

  The weapon hit the lead bird with the force of a falling star. A massive sonic boom rippled across the deck, the shockwave knocking the crew to their knees and liquefying the nearest seagulls. With a gesture, the hammer flew back into his hand like it was tethered by a thread.

  Petrus lunged into the fray, his hammers becoming a whirlwind of destruction. Within minutes, the deck was silent, save for the wet slapping of blood dripping from the railings. He gave his hammers a sharp, professional flick to clear the gore, then turned back toward his cabin.

  “I will be in my quarters,” Petrus said, the door clicking shut behind him.

  “First Mate, we need to set her down,” Paul shouted from the helm, struggling with the wheel. “Hull integrity is dropping. We need to check for structural leaks.”

  Galleon scanned the horizon, pointing toward a small cluster of structures nestled in a clearing below. “Take us down there. Maybe the locals can trade for supplies.”

  The groaned as it descended into the center of the village. The crew jumped over the rails before the ship had even fully settled, weapons drawn, but the silence that met them was eerie. The village was a ghost town.

  “Hey, Captain!” Sue called out from the doorway of a small hut. “I found something! I’d recognize this chicken-scratch anywhere.”

  Petrus stepped back out onto the deck as Sue held up a singed piece of parchment. “Go on,” he rumbled.

  “It’s Nile’s. From the Engineering Department back home,” Sue said, her voice dropping in realization.

  “Captain, the coals are still hot here,” Marvin added, poking his sword into a nearby fire pit. “They didn't leave long ago.”

  “Secure the perimeter and begin repairs,” Petrus commanded. “We stay here until Nile returns. If he’s in this world, he’s our priority.”

  Avery stepped up to the railing, looking worriedly at the hold. “Captain... if we’re staying, we need to hunt. We’re out of rations for the crew, and the Glimmer Shroud is already starting to drain the hull for mana.”

  “Alright crew, you heard the man. We need beasts,” Captain Petrus boomed. “And keep them intact this time, Norman. The Shroud doesn't eat minced meat.”

  “Yes, sir,” Norman grumbled, turning away and kicking a loose stone. “Keep ‘em intact... load of bullshit after you literally made a mess of them on the deck.” he said underneath his breath.

  “What was that, Norman?” Petrus’s voice dropped an octave, vibrating through the clearing.

  Norman stiffened. “Uh, nothing, Captain! Mostly intact. I’ll leave the hearts beating if I have to.”

  “Good. You take Sue, Robert, and Adrian with you,” Petrus ordered.

  Norman groaned, his shoulders sagging. “Captain, seriously? Do I to take Robert?”

  “Yes.” The word was a finality that brooked no argument.

  “I’ll have you know, my mana pool has tripled since the last raid,” Robert interjected, stepping forward boldly. He was a skinny man with sharp features, clutching a wooden staff encrusted with glowing, jagged gems. “I have a library of spells that could blow those seagulls out of the sky before you even lift your spear. Besides, I’d rather be on Leann’s team anyway—she’s a better hero than you’ll ever be.”

  Norman snorted, spinning his spear. “Ha. That'll be the day.”

  “Galleon, you take Marvin, Jean, and Leann,” Petrus continued, ignoring the bickering. “The rest of you lot—get to work on the . I want this hull air-tight by sundown.”

  A chorus of thirty voices—Older crew with jagged scars and weathered gear—answered as one: “Yes, Captain!”