Erik, carrying his weakened father over his shoulder, led the group through the winding corridors of the Concord’s palace. Vesper and Berndhardt flanked him, their weapons drawn, while Oswin brought up the rear, his eyes darting for any sign of magical traps or pursuing forces.

The air was thick with tension, the sound of alarms echoing through the halls. Erik’s father groaned faintly, his voice hoarse.

“Erik… the ship…”

“We’re almost there,” Erik said, his voice firm.

“Just hold on.”

They burst through the palace’s main gates and into the open courtyard, where the Aetherian vessel waited, its glowing runes casting an ethereal light over the scene. The ship’s massive form hovered just above the ground, its sails shifting gently as if sensing the urgency of their approach.

Oswin glanced up at the ship and smiled faintly.

“It seems our ride has been expecting us.”

Erik glanced back, his crimson-tinged eyes narrowing.

“They’re going to hit the ship.”

The mages unleashed their first volley; fireballs, ice shards, and bolts of lightning streaking toward the vessel. The ship responded instantly, its defenses activating with a resonant hum. A shimmering barrier formed around it, absorbing the attacks effortlessly. The spells dissipated into harmless sparks and mist as they struck the barrier.

Vesper smirked.

“Looks like they brought firecrackers to a storm.”

But the Concord forces didn’t relent. More mages stepped forward, their spells growing in complexity and power. Massive chains of glowing runes shot toward the ship, while others summoned magical projectiles that swirled with chaotic energy.

The ship’s hum deepened, its runes flaring brightly. It repelled the attacks easily, but this time, it didn’t stop there.

A low rumble resonated from the ship, and its hull began to shift. The group paused, staring in awe as a massive opening formed underneath the vessel. From within, a colossal construct emerged, a weapon unlike anything they had ever seen. It resembled a ballista, but its design was sleek and alien, its arms glowing with raw mana. The weapon rotated, its movements precise as it aimed toward the attacking forces.

Oswin’s eyes widened. “That’s… new.”

The ballista began to charge, drawing in energy from the ship’s core. The air around it crackled with power as arcs of mana danced along its frame. The Concord forces faltered, their confidence shaken as they realized what was happening.

The ballista fired.

A massive beam of light shot forth, splitting into thousands of smaller mana lines as it surged toward its targets. The lines moved with uncanny precision, striking not the attackers themselves but the infrastructure supporting them. Towers, castle walls, and defensive structures were torn apart in an instant, the mana lines slicing through stone and steel as if they were paper.

The destruction was swift and devastating. Entire sections of the palace collapsed, the ground shaking as walls crumbled and debris rained down. The mages and soldiers scattered, their formations broken as they scrambled for cover.

The courtyard was filled with dust and chaos, the once-pristine palace grounds now a scene of ruin. Erik and the group stood near the ship’s ramp, their expressions a mix of awe and unease.

“Was that really necessary?” Vesper muttered, watching as the ballista retracted into the ship’s hull.

Berndhardt grinned. “Absolutely. Did you see their faces?”

Oswin shook his head, his tone serious.

“This wasn’t just an act of defense. The ship was making a statement.”

Erik’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned to the ramp.

“Let’s get inside.”

The group ascended the ramp, Erik’s father cradled carefully in his arms. As they crossed the threshold, the ship’s defenses flared again, sealing the entrance behind them. The hum of the vessel deepened, and its sails shifted as it began to rise into the air.

Through the viewport, Erik watched as the Concord forces regrouped in the distance, their remaining mages frantically casting spells to stabilize the crumbling palace. The sight filled him with a cold satisfaction.

“They won’t forget this,” Oswin said quietly, standing beside him.

“The Concord doesn’t take humiliation lightly.”

Erik nodded, his expression grim.

“Let them come. We’ll be ready.”

As the ship climbed into the clouds, the chaos below fading into nothingness, Erik looked down at his father. A faint stir of movement from the older man caught his gaze. Erik’s expression softened, a quiet resolve settling over his features as he adjusted his grip, holding him closer.

The ship’s hum quieted, its runes flickering gently, as though echoing the unspoken promise.

Erik carried his father through the quiet halls of the ship, the hum of its systems a constant presence. Vesper and Berndhardt followed closely behind, their weapons sheathed but their postures tense. Oswin trailed at a slight distance, his keen eyes observing Erik’s every move.

The medical bay was a serene, almost unnervingly pristine space. Its walls shimmered faintly with the ship’s magic, and the central platform glowed softly, awaiting its new occupant. Erik gently laid his father down, his features tightening as he stepped back and studied the frail man.

“Let me see,” Erik murmured, his voice low as he activated his demonic eye.

The crimson glow of his left eye deepened, the intricate lines of its eldritch magic sharpening as it began to evaluate his father’s condition. Tendrils of unseen energy snaked out from the eye’s focus, tracing along his father’s body in a detailed scan.

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Erik frowned, his expression darkening as the scan revealed a faint, malevolent presence coiled deep within his father’s lungs. The eldritch energy pulsed faintly, stubborn and insidious, clinging to the delicate tissues like a parasite.

Oswin, standing nearby, noticed Erik’s reaction. “What is it?” he asked cautiously.

“It’s not just lodged there,” came the sardonic voice of the demon from Erik’s blade, cutting through the quiet like a knife.

“It’s waiting to spread. Every breath he takes would have carried a sliver of corruption, infecting everyone around him. A perfect way to poison slowly, quietly, until it was too late to stop.”

“There’s something left,” Erik said, his voice tight.

“Eldritch energy…lodged in his lungs. It’s faint, but it’s enough to spread if left unchecked.”

Oswin’s eyes widened. “In his lungs? That’s… insidious.”

Erik stepped closer to his father, extending his hand over the man’s chest. The markings along his palm shifted and opened, revealing a grotesque, otherworldly mouth in the center of his hand. It opened wide, its jagged teeth glistening with dark energy.

Oswin stiffened, his voice barely above a whisper. “What… are you doing?”

“A solution,” Erik replied curtly.

Erik held his hand over his father’s mouth, the mouth on Erik hand hissed as it inhaled, pulling in the faint tendrils of eldritch energy that clung to his father’s lungs. The corrupted energy resisted at first, clinging desperately, but Erik’s resolve was unshakable. He focused, guiding the Sin Seater with precision as it sucked the corruption out, the glowing veins of energy coiling into his hand like smoke drawn into a vacuum.

His father’s breathing grew easier, the color slowly returning to his face. Erik could see the eldritch taint fading, the last remnants dissolving into his hand. The mouth snapped shut, the markings on Erik’s palm returning to their dormant state.

Erik knelt beside his father, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. The older man stirred, his breathing slow but steady now, the lines of strain easing from his face.

“It’s done,” Erik said quietly. “You’re free of it.”

Oswin stepped closer, his gaze lingering on Erik’s hand.

“That skill… Sin Seater. I’ve read of things like it but never seen one in action… so effective.”

Vesper crossed her arms, watching Erik carefully.

“Are you sure it’s gone? All of it?”

Erik nodded, his demonic eye dimming as it returned to its normal state.

“It’s gone. It won’t spread anymore.”

Berndhardt let out a low whistle.

“Remind me never to let you anywhere near my lungs.”

Erik glanced at his father, his expression softening.

“He’s safe now. That’s all that matters.”

***

The room grew still as Erik stood back, the remnants of corruption now gone from his father’s body. His breathing was steady, but his pallor still carried the weight of months of torment. Erik’s expression softened as he looked down at the man, but there was a flicker of worry in his eyes.

Vesper stepped forward, her usually sharp demeanor tempered by an unusual calm. She knelt beside Erik’s father, her gaze steady as she looked up at Erik.

“You’ve removed the corruption,” she said softly,

“but his mana is fractured, his strength drained.”

Erik hesitated, his instincts warning him against relying on anything beyond his own control. But as he met Vesper’s gaze, he saw no arrogance, no ulterior motive, just quiet determination.

Vesper placed her hands lightly over Erik’s father’s chest. The air around her seemed to shift, growing warmer, lighter. She closed her eyes, and the faint glow of her Divine System began to radiate from her, its golden light wrapping around her hands like liquid fire.

"Great eternal light, source of all that endures,

I call upon your grace to mend what has been broken.

This man, who has suffered under shadow’s weight,

stands now at the edge of renewal.

Let your warmth flow through him,

cleansing the corruption that clings to his soul.

Grant him the strength to heal,

the peace to rest, and the will to rise again."

The glow from her hands deepened, spreading like a golden tide over Erik’s father. Her words carried an unshakable conviction:

"By your will, I ask this- restore what darkness has taken."

As she spoke, the golden light around her hands deepened, flowing into Erik’s father like sunlight seeping into the earth. The glow expanded, spreading over his body in soft waves. His breathing grew stronger, his pale features flushing with renewed vitality.

The room felt alive, as if the ship itself had paused to listen. The magic in Vesper’s voice wasn’t just a power, it carried something more profound, something ancient and unyielding. Her words reached beyond flesh and bone, pulling on the invisible threads that tethered life to the spirit.

Erik watched, his stoic facade faltering as he saw the tension ease from his father’s face. The lines of strain softened, replaced by something close to peace. He couldn’t deny the weight of what Vesper was doing; the sheer humanity in it.

When the final words of the chant left her lips, the glow receded, leaving only faint traces of warmth. Vesper lowered her hands, exhaling softly as the light around her faded.

Erik knelt beside his father, his voice low.

“Father?”

The older man’s eyes fluttered open, and for the first time in what felt like forever, clarity filled them. He looked at Erik, his gaze soft but steady.

“Erik…”

Erik swallowed, the words catching in his throat.

“You’re safe now. Rest.”

Vesper stood, her usual sharpness returning as she brushed off her hands.

“It’ll take time, but he’ll recover. The corruption may have left scars, but they won’t control him anymore.”

Erik turned to her, his voice quiet but firm.

“Thank you.”

She gave a small nod, her tone practical but tinged with something warmer.

“Just don’t make me do that too often. It’s exhausting.”

Berndhardt, leaning casually against the wall, grinned.

“Wasn’t sure you had it in you to be so... divine.”

Erik, still watching his father’s now-peaceful expression, glanced at her. Though she’d masked it quickly, he could still feel the weight of what she’d done; the power in her voice, the steady resolve that hid beneath her sharp wit and the slight shaking of her arm as she lowered it exhausted.

The ship’s hum deepened, its runes flickering softly, as though it too had witnessed the shift in the room and approved of the fragile harmony restored.

***

As Erik stepped into the captain’s chambers, the door sliding shut behind him with a faint hum, he let out a long, measured breath. The room, with its smooth walls and faintly glowing runes, had become his refuge aboard the ship; a place to think, to plan. But tonight, the weight of uncertainty pressed heavily on him.

He sank into the chair near the central console, the ship’s ambient light reflecting faintly off the edges of his sword, which rested within reach. His thoughts churned. They had his father now, alive and free of the eldritch corruption; at least for the moment. But the questions that had haunted Erik for weeks remained unanswered, sharper now than ever.

Where did they go next? What was their next move?

His instincts screamed to return to the Concord’s capital. The thought of it churned uneasily in his chest. If the eldritch energy had been embedded in his father’s lungs, slowly creeping out with each breath, how far had it spread before Erik intervened? How many others might already be tainted?

Ebonfield’s memory surged unbidden to the forefront of his mind; the faces of the villagers twisted into unspeakable horrors, their screams swallowed by the otherworldly cacophony of corruption. He tightened his grip on the chair’s arm, his knuckles whitening. He’d seen what eldritch contamination could do. He’d lived through it, fought through it and barely survived.

“How long?” he muttered to himself, his voice low and tense.

“How long until there’s another Ebonfield?”

The thought burned in his mind. He couldn’t afford to wait for the answers to come to him. If even a fraction of what had happened in Ebonfield was taking root in the capital, the consequences would be catastrophic. His father’s imprisonment might have been more than a cruel act of control; it could have been an unintentional seed of destruction.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk as the faint hum of the ship resonated in the silence. He needed to know. If there were eldritch incursions in the capital if the corruption was spreading, they needed to stop it before it was too late. But charging into the Concord’s heart would require more than brute force and righteous anger.

His mind flicked to Vesper, Berndhardt, Oswin... and the ship itself. Each was a weapon in their own right. Together, they might stand a chance. But even then, Erik knew, the next steps wouldn’t just be about strength, they’d be about the precision of their strike and the willingness to face the unknown.

The ship’s hum deepened slightly, as if sensing his thoughts. Erik glanced at the glowing runes lining the wall.

“You’ve been quiet,” he murmured. “Any thoughts on what comes next?”

The hum remained steady, unyielding in its calm.

Erik sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, me neither.”