Luna bit her lower lip so hard she felt the sting of broken skin. First, her gaze locked onto the smaller Navy ship, then shifted to the Sofie, which remained strategically positioned, its movements deliberate. Johny’s vessel adjusted its course with patience, clearly waiting for the smaller ship to flank the Diana before acting, ensuring an unassailable advantage.
But the reckless advance of the smaller ship left its bow directly exposed to the Diana’s cannons. Luna spotted the error instantly, analyzing it in mere seconds. A thin, cunning smile curled her lips.
The distance between the ships closed rapidly, and the steady wind made the shot almost certain. Luna’s heart hammered like a war drum, each beat marking the meters that separated them. With her hands gripping the weathered wood of her father’s cabin, she felt adrenaline surge through her veins, sharpening her focus.
“Ed!” she shouted, turning toward the Diana’s stern. Her voice cut through the deafening roar of the sea and the frantic rhythm of her thoughts. The crewman in charge of the cannons, already positioned beside one of the massive iron tubes, looked up at her. “Take them down! Bring down their sails, and then we’ll deal with the Sofie!”
Ed didn’t respond—he didn’t need to. The wicked grin that spread across his face said more than words could. With a swift motion, he grabbed the torch nearby and lit the fuse. The cannon roared, its blast echoing across the waves like thunder.
The projectile streaked across the two hundred meters separating the ships in a heartbeat, tearing through the air in a perfect arc before slamming into the enemy deck. The impact was devastating. Shards of splintered wood erupted into the air as the Navy ship’s main mast shattered with a deafening crack, toppling onto the deck like a tree felled in a storm.
The sails collapsed in a tangle of shredded fabric, draping the ship like broken wings and leaving it adrift, helpless. An easy target. But the Diana’s crew wasted no time. In seconds, muskets were drawn and aimed at the stunned sailors, who barely had time to process what had just hit them.
The thunderous blast still echoed in Luna’s ears when a new movement caught her eye. The Sofie was beginning to respond. She noticed its sails being partially furled as the warship slowed its pace, revealing a clear shift in strategy.
Instead of advancing head-on, the Sofie adjusted its course, tacking against the wind and repositioning to the left with deliberate precision. Luna narrowed her eyes, her mind racing to anticipate Johny’s next move.
Luna knew Johny would never attack without careful consideration. He was clearly waiting for the perfect moment to unleash that peculiar magic of his—the kind that could turn the tide of battle in an instant.
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The Sofie crept forward, trading speed for maneuverability. It was a calculated move, positioning Johny like a predator closing in on its prey with measured patience.
On the crippled Navy ship, a sailor hoisted a white flag, its ragged edges flapping awkwardly in the wind—a clumsy plea for mercy. Luna didn’t even blink. She clicked her tongue in irritation and turned away, refusing to waste a second of attention on such desperate, pathetic gestures.
Taking a deep breath, she sought the connection with the Light of Hope. The energy surged around her like a warm wave, pulsing in sync with the rhythm of her heart. The wind seemed to respond as if it, too, were alive—fierce and untamed, waiting for its cue. The Light harmonized with her mind, and she felt the wind coursing through her veins like a wild, defiant force. It challenged her, but at the same time, it bolstered her resolve.
It was a power with a will of its own: indomitable, impossible to subdue. It wasn’t something she could force or command—it was pure freedom, something that chose to align with her because it recognized a kindred spirit, one just as rebellious. The wind whispered in an ancient, almost imperceptible language, assuring her that she had what it took to command it.
She held the air in her lungs, feeling a tingling sensation spread through her body. Her vision filled with tiny points of bluish, reddish, and translucent light—echo particles. She guided them, concentrating and condensing each one as she inhaled deeply. The particles collided with one another, creating a raw sensation of energy, as though a small vortex was spinning within her.
The Light of Hope grew stronger, enveloping her like an invisible shroud, keeping the particles contained. Luna anchored herself in the primal force that burned inside her. It was a rebellious energy, resisting her like an untamed beast. But the Light demanded more than mere physical strength—it asked for something deeper.
Faith.
She had to believe in the impossible. Trust without hesitation.
Luna understood the frailty of the human body—how incapable it was of sustaining such immense power for long. A single moment of doubt could turn all that energy into a catastrophic failure. But in that instant, her determination was unshakable.
Her dreams of living a grand adventure were solid, forged like steel in fire. And she wasn’t about to let them shatter.
With power surging through her veins like molten lava, Luna fixed her gaze on the Lady Diana’s sails. She closed her eyes, allowing her breathing to synchronize with the energy swirling around her. Silently, almost like a prayer, she asked the wind to heed her command.
The wind was her specialty. She could harness it to gain speed or amplify attacks, whether at a distance or in close combat. But directing the wind to fill the sails of an entire ship was an entirely different challenge. Like her, the wind loathed being forced and detested going against its natural course.
For a moment, it resisted, rebelling like an untamed beast. Luna didn’t retreat. She deepened her connection with the element, feeling the air around her pulse with its own life. Slowly, the wind’s defiance began to fade—hesitant at first, then with growing strength, until finally, it surrendered to her will. When she opened her eyes, a wave of relief mingled with a burgeoning confidence, and a subtle smile curled her lips. The Lady Diana’s sails filled, and the ship surged forward with renewed speed.
“Turn the helm to right!” Luna commanded, her voice cutting through the noise on deck. “Stow the weapons—we’re breaking out of this trap now!”