Yuming's POV

The days bled into each other in a blur of endless blue, the ship rocking gently beneath my feet as it cut through the vast expanse of the sea. The crew went about their work as usual, but a tense silence seemed to hang over the ship, as if the ocean itself was holding its breath. I, too, found myself suspended in this uneasy quiet.

My hands still ached from the sword lessons Jun had given me. The weight of the blade was something I was beginning to get used to, though my movements were still far from graceful. I was painfully aware of how much I still had to learn, but I had no choice but to push forward. The world was no longer one of silk and feasts. It was harsh, unpredictable, and I needed to be ready.

I had learned that much over the past few days.

The men on the ship were kind enough, in their own rough way, but I still felt like an outsider. I couldn't tell if they pitied me or simply saw me as a curiosity. Either way, I stayed to myself mostly, trying to avoid drawing attention.

But there was one person I couldn't avoid, no matter how much I wanted to.

Jun.

He was everywhere. His presence was like a constant storm that never quite touched the ship but made the air heavy with its potential. There were moments when he looked at me, and it was like I was something to be measured, studied—like he was trying to figure me out, just as I had tried to figure him out since the first day we met. I was still no closer to understanding the pirate captain who had taken me from my life, yet something about him called to me in a way I couldn't ignore.

The way he had taught me to hold the sword, his hands gently guiding mine, had left an imprint in my memory. And then there were moments like yesterday, when I had caught a glimpse of something softer in his eyes. Not pity, not anger, but something else—something far more dangerous.

I had no idea what it meant, but I wasn't about to ask.

The night was always the hardest. The silence of the ship seemed to swallow me whole, and I often found myself lying awake, staring at the low ceiling of the cabin, my thoughts racing. Memories of the palace, of my life before all this, crept into my mind unbidden.

I couldn't even remember the last time I had felt truly safe.

But the worst part was the dreams. Horrific, distorted visions of the island, of the sickness and the twisted faces that still haunted me. Sometimes, I could still hear their moans in the back of my mind, the sounds of those people—those monsters—chasing us, clawing at the air, desperate to drag us back into their world.

I sat up, running my fingers through my hair, trying to shake off the feeling of dread. But it lingered, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

There was a knock at the door.

My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, as if it would offer some kind of protection.

"Come in," I said, my voice unsteady.

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The door creaked open, and Jun stepped inside, his tall frame filling the doorway. For a moment, I simply stared at him, the harsh lines of his face illuminated by the dim light from the lantern. His eyes were fixed on me with that unsettling intensity that never seemed to let up.

"I need you on deck," he said without preamble. "Now."

I hesitated. "Why?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter, little rat? Scared?"

I hated how he always said that, but there was no denying the challenge in his tone. And something about it made my chest tighten with determination. I wasn't scared. At least, I didn't want to be.

"I'll be there," I said, swinging my legs off the bed and standing up.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he turned and walked out. I followed quickly, trying to ignore the sudden fluttering in my stomach. It had been weeks since I had first been taken on board this ship, but his presence still unsettled me in ways I couldn't explain.

When I stepped onto the deck, the night air hit me with a cold slap. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale light over everything. The crew was gathered near the edge of the ship, their attention focused on something in the distance.

"What's going on?" I asked, walking toward them.

Jun was at the center of the group, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. I couldn't see anything out there, but I had learned better than to question him when he had that look on his face.

"Nothing to worry about," he said, his voice low. "But stay close. This might get messy."

I stayed where I was, unsure of what he meant but unwilling to step away. The air had changed, charged with tension. I could feel it in the way the crew moved, the way they kept glancing nervously toward the horizon.

And then, I saw it.

A dark shape on the water, barely visible against the dark waves. At first, I thought it was just a shadow, a trick of the light, but then it became clearer—larger, moving steadily toward us.

I tensed, my hand instinctively going to the dagger at my side. My training with the sword had barely been enough to make me feel competent, and I hadn't yet figured out how to wield the dagger properly. But I wasn't going to stand there and do nothing.

Jun noticed the way I was holding myself, the way my fingers hovered near the weapon, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. "Not yet."

The shape on the horizon grew closer, and soon I could make out the dark outline of another ship—another pirate ship. Its sails were tattered, and it was moving fast, propelled by wind or something else.

Jun's crew stiffened, reaching for their own weapons, and I instinctively stepped closer to him.

"What do we do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"We wait," he replied, his gaze fixed on the incoming ship. "We'll see what they want."

But as the ship drew nearer, it became clear that it wasn't just any pirate ship. The men aboard were erratic, their movements jerky and wild. Their faces—those faces—were twisted, their eyes empty and clouded.

I felt a cold shiver crawl up my spine.

The sickness.

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on my dagger. Jun's crew began murmuring among themselves, but their voices were drowned out by the rising wind.

"What the hell are they?" one of the men muttered.

Jun's face hardened, and he stepped forward, his sword glinting in the moonlight. "They're not men," he said, his voice grim. "Stay back."

The ship was now almost alongside us, the crew of the other vessel stumbling across the deck. Their movements were slow and staggered, as though they were fighting against something inside them. But there was no fight left in them. The sickness had already claimed them.

And that was when it happened.

One of the infected men lunged, his arms outstretched, his mouth gaping wide. Jun reacted instantly, his sword flashing in the moonlight as he cleaved through the attacker with a single, efficient strike.

Chaos erupted.

The crew of the other ship came at us in waves, their groans filling the air as they scrambled toward us, their movements like that of animals hunting in a frenzy. Jun's men fought back fiercely, but there were too many of them.

I stood frozen for a moment, my heart racing in my chest. I wanted to move, to do something, but my limbs felt like they were made of stone.

Jun's voice rang out across the deck. "Little rat! Move!"

I snapped out of my daze, and before I could think twice, I ran toward the battle, my dagger drawn and ready.