Kalaman found Nentonia standing at the upper deck as the storm was at its most violent. She looked at the sky as if she was gazing upon a beautiful night scenery, her eyes wide with awe. Every so often, the lightning would light up her face, revealing a slight upward turn of the edges of her mouth.

“So, have you made your decision?” she asked without turning to him. She knew he was there. Her voice was calm and quiet, but he could hear it so clearly, as if she was right there biting his ear.

Enthralled. Obsessed. Addicted. Every part of her was poisonous nectar. And now, the bee was going to willingly drown in it.

He heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, he saw Armei walk like an undead towards them, her limbs almost limp.

“Remina died,” Armei said.

Right. Kalaman remembered her heading towards Remina’s room. The two of them passed each other as Kalaman was trying to head to the upper deck.

Nentonia’s eyes widened, then she looked at Kalaman, knowing that he was the only one who could’ve done it. He locked eyes with her back, and without words, he said “this is my answer.”

Her eyes softened, accepting his response.

“I see. I’m sorry for your loss,” she said to Armei.

The half-elf looked at her with furrowed brows. “...Is that all you have to say? Weren’t the two of you close?”

“We are. It’s a bit sad that we can’t see each other anymore, though, but I’m sure she’s happy, wherever she is now.”

“She’s dead,” Armei growled. “She isn’t anywhere anymore.”

“Maybe, but I’d like to believe she is.” Nentonia playfully swung her legs as she walked to the deck’s center.

Suddenly, one of the crewmates screamed. Everyone turned their heads to what he was looking at.

Jarvarax had ascended the deck, his body covered in blood splatters, with some of it dripping down his spear.

Armei was the first to speak. “Jarvarax? What did you...?”

“I killed the assassin,” he said, then turned to the crew. “Your captain is gone.”

It didn’t take long for the crewmates to raise their voices. They all shouted in unison, so it was hard to make out what exactly they said amidst the storm. Kalaman was surprised to see that a former criminal like Nahar was able to amass a team that would actually get angry at his death.

After the incident at the cave, Kalaman quit being an adventurer, and met Nahar. The two of them became bandits, breaking into wealthy homes and stealing valuables to make a living. Kalaman only did it as a form of escapism, but Nahar seemed to have some sort of noble goal amidst it all. When he was caught by the Farlan military, Kalaman saw no reason to keep up being a bandit without Nahar’s smarts, so he went back to adventuring after a while.

The two of them didn’t get along, and had a strictly business kind of relationship. Kalaman was particularly unfond of him due to differences in ideals and outlook, but he thought that he’d at least feel something when he died.

Kalaman scoffed.

He walked towards the stairs, and past Jarvarax, stopping when he was right behind him.

“Apologies that I took this long. We do not need to worry anymore, Kalaman. It’s over.”

The dragonborn hadn’t been of much use, especially since the last cleric died. But he was always a prideful one. Always so sure of himself, Kalaman thought.

But even so, he was probably the most dangerous on this ship. It would be best to get rid of him first. If he was going to kill him, it should be instant, leaving no room for retaliation.

Kalaman took out his blade and thrust it into Jarvarax’s heart. His scales were annoying, since they were harder to pierce than skin, but with a bit of force, they gave in. Jarvarax wheezed blood, gargling on it as he tried to form words.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Just to be sure, Kalaman twisted his blade, opening his heart up even more.

He took out the now blood-covered blade. Parts of the dragonborn’s heart and flesh clung to it like mud. He fell to the ground, his heavy body making a loud thud. He was still barely alive, but it wouldn’t be long before he snuffed it, so he was no longer a threat.

The crewmen screamed. They could wait. The half-elf’s spells were going to be trouble. She had always annoyed Kalaman, but she was a talented sorceress. She was a fair distance away, so he should attack while she was still confused.

“...K-Ka—”

He dashed towards her and sliced off her right arm which held her staff. Her guard was low enough that she wasn’t able to keep her balance, and she fell to the floor, writhing in pain.

Just as he was about to finished her off, he noticed rushed footsteps behind him.

He turned around and sliced through the approaching crewman’s torso. With a terrified expression, he tried to slay Kalaman. And he died wearing that expression. The rest of the crewmen had more or less gathered their composure and were prepared to fight him. No, they had no choice but to prepare themselves.

Terror laid abundant on their faces. They knew that they faced death, and could do nothing but resist in futility.

These men weren’t fighters. They were more likely scouts that worked for the Farlan military under Nahar’s command. Nahar had always been good at recon, so it’d make sense for Farlan to use his greatest talent and form a team around it.

Two more ran towards him with raised swords and flowing tears. He’d prefer to kill Armei first, but he couldn’t exactly turn his back against approaching attackers.

Slice. Slice.

Stab. Cut.

Sever.

They kept coming. More came from below deck. How brave of them. Did they wish to follow their captain into whatever afterlife they believed in?

It didn’t matter.

Then, his honed senses acted up. He turned to see Armei, still on the ground, now holding her staff with her other arm. She pointed it at Nentonia, who stood there watching everything unfold.

Nentonia knew she was being targeted. He knew that she’d make no effort to dodge. She would take that hit head-on, no matter how painful it’d be. But knowing Armei, she’d make it more than just hurt.

As always, she was unbearably annoying.

He rushed in and, as swiftly as he could, decapitated her before she could activate her spell. Armei’s head went flying, and eventually fell into the stormy seas.

Then...

“Hng...?!”

Kalaman felt something pierce his backside. One of the crewmen had taken the opportunity to land a hit in while he was preoccupied with Armei. He immediately removed the attacker’s arms, then sliced his body in half. He noticed a strange sensation coming from that wound.

He looked down to see the knife covered in a dark purple liquid. Magerot.

Kalaman wasn’t a magic caster, but the poison was still very strong. It’s only been a second, and he could already feel his arms numbing.

Another crewmate went in for the kill. Kalaman could feel his own senses slowing down.

He swung his blade and decapitated him. Good. At the very least, he could fight off the poison’s effects, if only for a moment. A minute, at most. There were around fifteen or so crewmen left.

That was more than enough time.

†

The rain felt cold on his skin. He could tell that much. But for some reason, he felt warm.

Kalaman’s back was against the floor. He was staring at the sky above, the rain seeping into his eyes. His entire body felt numb. How many seconds has it been? Or was it minutes? He couldn’t tell anymore.

The crew were all dead. After slaying the last one, his body fell to the ground, losing all strength. He just barely made it.

He was back at the desert. He was a young nomad boy. Kalaman Kampus laid on the soft desert sand, staring up at the sun, looking down on him, burning him with all it had.

No, it wasn’t the desert sun. It was just her eyes. Those yellow eyes that had ensnared him since they met. Nentonia Brava laid his body on her lap and leaned over, aligning her face with his.

“This was one hell of an answer, Kal.” She said his nickname again with such a tender voice. “Was any of this necessary?”

He could feel his throat seizing up. No, fight through it, he thought. Even as he coughed up blood, splattering some of it on her face, he spoke.

“I’m already complete ... but you aren’t yet.”

“Mm.” She nodded. “I’m not.”

“You’re going to fulfil our promise ... right?”

She nodded again.

“Then, they wouldn’t have let you leave alive. That’s why...”

“That’s why you killed them?”

He slowly nodded.

She smiled. Tears began falling down her face. “...Strange, right? For me to be crying like this. Something must really be wrong with me.”

He coughed up a laugh. “Who gives a shit? What isn’t wrong, nowadays anyway?”

She laughed with him. He laughed with her.

A single second stretched into eternity. Ah. If only this storm would never end.

Nentonia laid his body down onto the floor, then straddled his torso, pressing him against the ground with her weight. Then, she placed her hands on his chest. She moved them up, caressing his skin, until they reached his neck. She gently coiled them around it, and held it tightly.

The poison was already making it hard to breath, but it was even more strenuous now. No air he inhaled would enter. She wasn’t strong in the slightest. If he pushed her off, it would’ve been easy. Yet, even her soft grip was enough to block all air from entering.

Everything became darker and blurry. The storm seemed so far away now. Everything was fading.

“Goodbye, Kalaman.”

...But her voice was still clear as day.

Strength returned to his eyes for just a moment, and he saw her crying face. She smiled at him so tenderly.

She was being completed. He was completing her. The visage of her becoming whole was nothing short of beautiful. How cruel. Even in his final moments, the world was still rewarding him. How ironic was that?

Kalaman laughed.

And the flame finally went out.