The sea was unnaturally calm as the fleet carved through the slate-grey waters. The air hung heavy with a cold that felt alive, slithering beneath the crew’s coats and settling into their bones. Frost rimed the edges of the sails, creeping inward like a silent warning. The men worked with hushed efficiency, their voices barely rising above whispers. Even the usual creak of the rigging seemed muted, as if the storm itself held its breath.
Robert stood at the helm of the Resolute, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. A sense of inevitability coiled around him, a serpent tightening with every passing moment. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the sea itself conspired against them, the stillness a cruel mockery of the violence to come.
“Sir,” a voice broke the silence. It was Lieutenant Hayworth, his face pale but composed. “The men are uneasy. They can feel… her.”
Robert turned to him, his expression grim but resolute. “Let them feel. Let them fear her if they must. But remind them that they’re here for more than their lives. We stand between her and everything she seeks to destroy.”
Hayworth nodded, though his unease lingered. “Aye, sir.”
Robert’s gaze drifted toward the other ships in his fleet, their silhouettes ghostly in the growing mist. Each one carried men who had trained for this moment, men armed with talents and power that gave them a fighting chance against an immortal spectre. He clenched his fists, his breath fogging in the frigid air.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Among the crew, the pontumancers stood apart, their hands skimming the surface of the water as they murmured incantations. Ripples radiated outward from their touch, unnatural patterns forming in the waves, ready to spring to life at their command. The telekinetics moved among them, their focus trained on unseen threats, their minds sharpening the air around them into an invisible shield.
Robert felt the strain of his dual roles–leader and weapon. His pontumancy whispered to him, the sea’s ancient language etched into his veins, while his telekinesis hummed like a bowstring pulled taut. Both powers coursed within him, waiting to be unleashed. Yet even with all the magic at their disposal, he knew this battle would demand more than strength. It would demand everything.
The wind shifted suddenly, icy and sharp, carrying with it a faint sound–distant laughter, cold and melodic. It brushed against the fleet like the first breath of a coming storm. The men tensed, their murmurs silenced as they looked to their captain for guidance.
“She’s testing us,” Robert said aloud, more to himself than anyone else. He felt her presence now, just beyond the veil of mist, watching and waiting. The Yuki Onna was close, her power already leaking into the world around them, bending the natural order to her will.
He let out a slow breath, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. “We stay the course. If she wants a fight, she’ll find one.”
The crew moved with renewed purpose, the pontumancers’ chants rising as the telekinetics began forming invisible barriers to protect the ship. The frost thickened, creeping along the rails and turning the rigging brittle. Above them, the first snowflakes began to fall, delicate and silent, each one a harbinger of the storm to come.
Robert closed his eyes for a moment, his thoughts drifting to Willoughby, to Sabrina, to every soul the Yuki Onna had claimed. Their faces burned in his mind, fueling the fire in his chest. He tightened his grip on the wheel, the wood cold beneath his fingers.
“Soon,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the growing wind. “Soon, this ends.”
The mist thickened, swallowing the fleet whole, and the world around them began to turn white.