Qing swam around the inside of the kraken, blasting apart its flesh, trying to kill it before he drowned.

Suddenly, he felt a communication from a skeletal mage at the other end of the body, sensing its instincts as it pushed a fist-sized globe of acidic magic straight through the wall and into a grey mush the size of a soccer ball.

The monster’s brain.

With one last convulsion that threw Qing from the wall to spin around in the water, the kraken died.

The grim satisfaction of killing that which had sought to harm him and his friends lasted a split second before Qing’s lungs commanded his attention.

He searched for the way out, spotting it down on the wall, and kicked towards it, unequipping his items, leaving himself naked except for his underwear. He pulled himself into the eye socket, his nerves on fire, having pushed his body too far on too little oxygen.

Panic set in as he realized how far he must be from the surface. He cast Blink, taking himself away from the kraken’s corpse, and looked up. Far above, what looked like a million miles away, was the surface.

He cast Blink, appearing forty feet up.

Still out of reach.

Qing reached for mana to cast one more blink, but his came up empty.

He kicked and clawed, scrambling for the surface.

But he lost control.

He opened his mouth and screamed, before inhaling a burning lungful of seawater.

Darkness descended.

Every nerve in his body screamed from the pain of asphyxiation.

He fainted into oblivion.

* * *

Mumbled sounds and sensations filtered through his addled mind.

An impact on his chest.

A punch?

Is this how death is supposed to feel?

Had the Devil pulled him into Hell for some macabre joke?

Agony was his entire being.

Another punch.

Then he threw up, stomach muscles contracting, fighting, pushing. Water spewed from his lungs and he coughed. The first breath was not glorious, nor was the second. It tore at his lungs and tears streamed unbidden, snot shooting from his nose as he coughed and vomited and tried to inhale all at the same time.

“Stand aside,” a voice said, unimperious at first, then growing stronger. “Give me space.”

Qing blinked his eyes, fighting to focus. A wooden roof. A lit lamp, danglig, swinging back and forth.

I’m not in Hell. This is a ship.

Someone had rescued him.

He started laughing, a big smile spreading across his face. He was safe. It would all be okay.

Suddenly, a hand struck his cheek as if he’d insulted a colleague’s wife’s hairdo. The pain was nothing, but the shock of it stunned him.

If that’s Cedric, I’m throwing him overboard.

Then someone grabbed his chin and tilted his head until he looked along his nearly naked body. Eight people stood around him. Five sailors, what looked like a captain with a triangle hat, a robe-clad old woman with a beak of a nose and purple eyeshadow that screamed ‘witch,’ and next to her, a grey-haired man with thick, bushy eyebrows and steely blue eyes. A thin, golden circle adorned his forehead, and across his shoulders lay a red cloak with an ermine collar.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Qing said.

“Watch your tongue, squid shit,” the captain snarled. “Speak only when spoken to.”

One man leaned in and raised his hand as if to slap Qing again, but the crowned man raised a finger, and he halted.

“A fair question,” the crowned man said. “Inform him.”

“Yes, sire,” the man said and bowed. “You are in the presence of King Oscar of Thulenore. As such, you will speak only when spoken to. Answer any and all questions with complete honesty, and maybe your life will be spared.”

Qing started laughing again. He couldn’t help it. The five sailors leaned on his limbs, pinning him to the table. Without his armour he was only a very strong man, not superhuman. But he didn’t care. The ships that had chased them since they left the Golden Hold, bursting between the blockade that had appeared one night, had saved him from drowning.

But a thought cut his laughter short.

“Did my friends make it?” he asked. “Is our ship safe?”

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This time, the captain did punch him in the belly. But Qing was prepared and tightened his abs. A crack came from the man’s hand, and he screamed in pain.

“Stinking rotting seagull shit on a whale’s carcass!” the man said, howling, jumping up and down.

Qing looked at the king, silently imploring him. “Please, just tell me, and I will answer your questions.” Nobody could accuse him of not being diplomatic when he needed to be.

Just once it would be nice if it could be easy.

But in case they were not magnanimous, he checked his stats screen.

Health: 230/370

Mana: 176/750

I must have been unconscious for a while to regen.

The king just gazed at Qing.

“Answer me,” Qing said, and the king’s eyes narrowed.

“You are not in control here,” King Oscar said.

Qing sighed. “Why do you people always insist on making things so difficult?”

The king turned to the woman beside him. “Teach him some respect.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied.

“Enough,” Qing said, and something in his tone made the king turn back. “I tried the easy way. Now we do it the hard way.”

Qing had been held captive too many times lately. First, trapped in King Sharyar’s Living Tapestry, then kidnapped by Paul, and now held here. He would not stand for it any longer.

He didn’t know what power the king possessed, but the five sailors and captain posed no real threat. That left the witch as the wild card.

“Remember your place,” the captain snarled, clutching his injured hand.

Qing ignored him, instead focusing on two simultaneous actions. He pulled in arcane energy while opening his inventory. In a flash, he equipped his entire suit of armor. Strength coursed through him, making him five times as powerful as a normal man.

In the same instant, Qing cast Mana Siphon on the witch. Her eyes went wide as he punched through her resistances. Yet despite the drain, she started preparing a spell, so Qing immediately followed up with Spell Interrupt.

The king shouted for help and the captain fumbled at a razor-thin needle of a sword, but his cracked hand made grasping the weapon difficult. The sailors released Qing’s limbs, reaching for knives.

Qing pulled on the charge in the air and cast Chain Lightning at the witch. A deafening boom filled the cabin as the spell arced between her, the captain, and several sailors. Fortunately, it missed the elderly king.

As his captors crumbled to the ground, Qing stood. The king backed away, pressing himself against the cabin wall, trying his best to remain unnoticed.

Qing turned to him and demanded, “Where are my friends? Did it, or you, sink the ship? Are they alright?”

The king stammered, unable to form coherent words.

“Damn it.” Qing moved to the door, but a sailor charged him, and he punched the man in the face, knocking him out cold. Then he pointed a finger at the king and said, “Don’t go anywhere.”

If he’s harmed them…

He equipped his glaive and picked up his circlet from where it lay. They must have removed it after fishing him from the sea.

The sound of running footsteps came from outside. Qing waited a few seconds, timing it until he heard them directly outside the door. Then he kicked, launching the door off its frame. The wood and a nearby sailor went flying, and Qing stepped out onto the deck of a medieval warship.

He gazed at the sails, recognizing them immediately. The green and red fabric billowed in the stormy wind, a gray metal fist set in their center. Qing had looked back at these sails many times during his journey.

Dozens of sailors stared at Qing, drawing their weapons, but he paid them no heed. His eyes were fixed forward, past the two massive masts and their billowing sails. He waited for the ship to crest a wave.

When it did, relief flooded through him. In the distance, nearly as large as his fist, was the Sea Serpent, defiantly cutting through the waves. He saw the entire side of the ship. Were they turning to engage?

Qing checked his stats. The drain on the witch had continued, and his mana was three-fifth full.

He turned back to the king. “Keep following us. I’m going to check on my friends and will be back shortly.”

“But…how?” the king asked, staring at the wast expanse of sea between them and the other ship.

Qing just smiled and walked across the deck, ignoring the stunned sailors, feeling a gathering of magic behind him. He let it happen. This would be the best demonstration of his power he could give. Mana siphon had cut off, and he sensed a spell building in intensity.

He didn’t recognize it, only knowing it was powerful, but that was fine. It would serve his purpose well.

As it completed, it was as if someone had turned on a spotlight. A focused beam of bright white light flashed down, burning against his Magic Shield. He felt the drain on his mana, as it did an impressive amount of damage, but it didn’t last long.

That has to be Celestial Smite, the level four Spirit Warden spell.

Slowly, Qing turned to meet the witch’s eye. He held up a finger and wagged it at her. “Not smart. But, let’s call ourselves even,” he said. “Take care of the king, and don’t do anything rash when I return.”

With that, Qing sprinted across the deck and leapt off the front of the ship.

Why is the Sea Serpent turning? They’ll be letting the enemy ships get within range. Maybe they are looking for me.

Qing cast Blink, flashing as far as he could, and unequipped his heavy armor. Then he blinked again, again, and again, covering two-thirds of the distance to the ship before his mana ran out, splashing into the cold sea.

He started swimming, enjoying the quiet and the rollercoaster-like up and down of the waves, waiting for his mana to slowly regenerated.

Suddenly, a fin appeared in the water next to him.

A great white shark.

His heart rate jumped as he thought of jaws that could devour a human in a single bite. But this was nothing compared to the prehistoric beast he had faced in the desert, of all places.

Qing plunged his head underwater and waited for the shark to close in.

It circled him, eyeing him. Then it turned head on and charged.

Its massive jaws opened, but then Quick Reflexes kicked in, and he twisted, dodging its mouth. He didn’t equip his weapon or cast a spell. There was no point in killing this innocent five-meter-long great white when it couldn’t truly harm him.

When it turned and came back for a second attack, he punched it straight in the nose, and the shark jerked back like a cat who had smelled the stinky socks of a truck driver two weeks on the road with only the one pair.

As it turned to flee, Qing reached out on a whim and grabbed hold of its fin.

The shark swam rapidly, trying to get away, pulling Qing with it through the ocean. He put his feet down around it and wrestled, pulling up, controlling its direction. As they crested the surface, he hopped to stand atop it, only holding onto the fin, shark surfing his way through the sea.

He angled the shark towards the Sea Serpent and grinned into the wind as water sprayed across his face. The fish’s skin felt velvety beneath his hands. As they closed in on the ship, Qing waved.

This nearly makes the kraken attack worth it.

The crew of the Sea Serpent lined the railing, pointing and waving back at him, a lone figure standing atop a great white shark, cutting through the waves like an icebreaker.

As he neared the ship, Qing prepared himself for the transition. He wanted to time this perfectly. The shark, still in a panic, showed no signs of slowing down. That was fine.

Fifty feet from the ship, Qing crouched low, tensed his muscles, and launched himself off the shark’s back. He soared through the air and cast Blink twice in rapid succession. The last one carrying him the final distance onto the deck of the Sea Serpent.

He slammed down into a crouch, wood creaking and water cascading off him, creating a small puddle on the deck.

Slowly, Qing stood, a grin splayed on his face as he turned to face his companions.

The first thing he saw was Ghida’s open palm, a split moment before it smacked him across the face.