Winged Astylinds cried in the sky and rained down attacks on the ship, some swooping in for melee, while the Severynths cast theirs from the deck. The pirate ship paralleled to theirs and countered with their own spells, battering the protective shield.
Fireballs, icicles, wind blades, earth bullets, the pirates used various elements’ spells; some unfit for fighting on the ocean, and some even negating their allies’ spells. The sailors on Ewan’s side used wind, water, and ice spells only and rotated the casts, leaving little to no wait time between the attacks. The slew of spells soon magnified their differences and thrashed the pirates’ ship after shattering their protective shield.
“They don’t seem that weak,” Ewan said, watching the battle beside Kiev on the deck, the smothered wave of explosions brushing his face. The cold wave came after the feverish touch while the sharp caress pricked his skin. “Just a little…inexperienced maybe.” The highest level he identified among the pirates was the seventh awakening. So, in theory, their own sailors had to fight a tough battle to destroy them. The reality painted a different picture, though. The pirates screamed around on their deck after their protective shield had crumbled. No one rallied them, no one quelled the hysteria; their defense crumbled in a moment—it became every man for himself.
“That was a crew put together in a hurry, they probably weren’t even pirates,” Kiev said, yawning with tears in his eyes. “It’s either one of our enemies, or someone out here has an inflated ambition.”
The sailors and their Astylinds bombarded the ocean, targeting the pirates who jumped over. Some pirates stayed onboard and tried to steer their ship away from the attack range, but the spell shredded the sails the moment they unfurled them.
“Well, they can clean up. Let’s head back, I need some rest.” Kiev signaled the captain and headed down to his room.
“What rest? We didn’t do anything,” Ewan said and followed him.
“I need a nap; the afternoon sun makes me drowsy.”
And the pirate ship sank behind them, the floating corpses trailing its descent.
……
Inside his room.
His claw-ring had a space of about two meters cube in volume. Ewan kept his books, his diaries, some ingredients and materials, his brewed potions, some tools, his dagger, his hub connector, and some Novas coins in there. They didn’t take up much space, so he could get by with proper organization till now. Hence the reason he procrastinated on expanding the inner space too. But then he joined the war and looted his kills—much more than what he got with hunting Astylinds. Even though most of his spoils weren’t precious, he didn’t want to throw them away either. And his claw-ring brimmed with that, two meters cube stopped being plenty.
His Pa sealed most of the claw-ring because Ewan’s soul wasn’t strong enough to handle it in his early stages. But he was at the peak of Step-0 now, he should be strong enough. Thus, he thought back to the method his Pa left in the imprint and finally considered expanding. He trickled his spirit inside the claw-ring and coated the perimeter fog with no side left, and he pushed. Little by little, the fog budged outwards, and the space expanded. Yet, it also tolled his spirit. His head soon throbbed, intensifying the more he pushed. In the end, the pain knocked on his threshold. Each push hammered his head, anymore and he could faint. So, he stopped and collapsed on his bed, sweating and panting. The ceiling wobbled before him, and the walls and the furniture blurred.
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How much had he pushed? What was the space inside his claw-ring now? He threw the questions out the window and just closed his eyes for a nap—the headache even hampered his thinking, he needed to solve this as soon as possible. And since he didn’t have any potions for healing the soul, sleep was his best friend.
In hindsight, he should’ve done this back at home; in a ‘safer’ place. Even though he reached an agreement with Kiev, he still couldn’t let his guard down. Constant vigilance was tiring, but it gave him the highest chance of survival.
He drifted into deep sleep while admonishing himself….
…….
“Now you’re injured,” Nana said. Ewan hovered before her in her shop, his spirit blob fluttering.
“It’s nothing serious,” he said. “What about Lime? Did he succeed this time?”
“Will you tell me if it was?” Nana asked, ignoring all the words he said after his first.
“It’s really nothing much, I just strained my spirit a little,” he said.
“A little strain does that?” she asked. And his spirit blob betrayed him the next moment and waned.
“It just looks worse than it is,” he said. “I was expanding the space in my claw-ring, that’s all.”
“Let’s do this,” she said, high pitched. “You don’t tell me anything, I also won't tell you anything. Let’s just stop contacting!”
The truth failed to do its job, and the shop fell quiet. A twisted case of crying wolf dashed any hope of her believing him like this.
“Fine, fine,” he said. “I got injured in a fight.”
“What happened?” she asked after a pause.
“Just a few cuts and a stab wound,” Ewan said. If the complete truth wouldn’t work, a mixed one might. An out of context truth was still a truth, wasn’t it…
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Status: Injured
Step-0 [9th Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 2.0
Spirit: 18.5
Anima: [Fire – 18.5 | Ice – 18.5 | Blood – 18.5]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [9th Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-B]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-B]
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Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-A]
Equipment: Common Clothes; Yurn [Neck Gaiter].
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals [Novas Coins]; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 34,012
Crelith: 4,049