The suns hung high in the sky, its rays reflecting off the water as the waves lapped against the sides of their small boat. Immanuel could see the squads commandeering boats, rapidly organizing a pursuit. Amidst this tense atmosphere, the girl continued to whisper into the boy's ear, her face pressed close to his.

Immanuel's attention briefly shifted to his own wound. The sight was grim – a black and white spiderweb pattern marred his flesh, with chunks of meat hanging loosely where his side used to be.

Zach suddenly emerged from the water, climbing aboard. He stepped carefully over the girl, who whimpered softly at his presence, and began to assist Immanuel with the oars. The horizon was dotted with more than a dozen ships departing from the docks.

Syl soon joined them, heaving herself onto the boat with a powerful grace, despite her wed robes. She moved to take over Immanuel's oars, her strokes strong and determined. The wind, fortunately, still blew inland.

As they neared their ship, they noticed several people aboard it.

"People on the ship," Immanuel stated.

Syl, her back to the ship as she rowed, quickly formulated a plan. "As we approach, we all enter the water. I will climb the anchor, Zach can fly onto the front deck, and Immanuel will flash up the other side. We engage from all sides."

Immanuel, acutely aware of his dwindling energy reserves, knew that his next flash might be his last. He glanced at the girl in the boat, her fearful eyes fueling his resolve. Determined, he retrieved his sword from storage, discarding the scabbard into the boat.

As they neared the ship, more than a dozen figures loomed over them, observing their approach. With a final powerful stroke from Syl, they reached the ship's shadow, and all three plunged into the water.

Underwater, Immanuel felt a momentary sense of relief, the coolness washing away the grime and blood. He swam beneath the ship, the massive hull casting a daunting shadow. With deliberate, strong strokes that conserved his energy, he navigated to the opposite side. Breaking the surface, he paused briefly, allowing himself a moment of calm in the chaos.

Sensing just enough energy for one flash, Immanuel surged upwards, emerging from the water and flashing onto the ship. Zach was already engaged in battle, his Lycan form a blur of motion as he fought along the railing. Immanuel joined the fray, swiftly moving to attack from behind. His strike, however, was not as lethal as he had hoped, the blade only cutting halfway through his opponent's neck. He kicked her off his blade and into the others.

Three of the attackers turned towards Immanuel stepping over their dead companion.

“I need the key!” Zach yelled.

Immanuel's movements were driven by necessity as he retreated towards the ship's bridge. Zach, utilizing his remarkable agility, soared into the air, using the ropes and mast to launch a ferocious attack on the three assailants engaged with Immanuel. With a swift, brutal efficiency, Zach eliminated them, clearing the immediate threat.

“Mostly stage 3, some even 1.” Zach remarked with disdain.

Immanuel frantically searched his inventory, his core empty, a situation that left him dangerously vulnerable. Syl, meanwhile, was being overwhelmed, facing a group of eight attackers who repeatedly stabbed at her. Finally finding the keys, Immanuel summoned them into existence and handed them to Zach, who dashed towards the bridge.

Immanuel picked up a discarded spear and threw it, killing one of the warriors near Syl, providing her with a momentary respite. Several of the adversaries refocused their attention on Immanuel, he saw them running towards him, at least one stage 3. Knowing his core was still empty he ran away towards the upper deck.

He leapt from deck to railing and back on the deck picking up a spear, drawing the enemies after him. Climbing up the main mast, he threw the spear in the neck of one the three assailants still fighting Syl.

As Syl, with her lethal mantis blades, dispatched another attacker, Immanuel continued climbing.

Two of his pursuers began to climb after him, while Syl, as she returned to her human form, yanked a spear from a fallen enemy's chest and hurled it, striking down the assailant just below Immanuel. The remaining pursuer, gripped by panic, clutched the ropes and began yelling frantically,

"Sccaahh, schaaah."

From his vantage point, Immanuel witnessed the distressing sight of the girl and boy they had rescued, paddling back towards the city with an oar held between her stumps.

“Fuck!” He yelled in frustration.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Syl, ignoring the last fighter's cries, focused on the approaching boats. She hurled another spear, striking the leader one of the boats.

The ship, under Zach's guidance, began to cut through the waves, moving away from the city.

Immanuel's gaze locked onto the girl, and he noticed the oar slipping from her grasp. He dove into the water, entering at an angle. Once his momentum subsided, he swam determinedly towards the boat carrying the girl and boy.

Breaking the surface, he saw the fear reignite in the girl's eyes as he clambered aboard. He took the oar from her and began paddling back towards their ship.

Immanuel cursed under his breath. He had inadvertently left Zach and Syl to fend for themselves.

Fueled by urgency, he paddled harder, circling behind the ship. It was only then that he heard the sound of Syl pulling up the anchor.

Pushing himself to the limit, he noticed the churn of water generated by the ship's motor. As he rounded the ship, he saw Syl engaging a group attempting to board. Scanning the small boat, Immanuel spotted fishing nets.

Quickly, he tied a net to the boat's small mast and dove back into the water, swimming towards the rising anchor. Grabbing onto it, he was hoisted upwards, but misjudged the speed. His hand was crushed between the ship's steel hull and the anchor, breaking it in several parts.

Pain shot through him, his eyes bulging from the intensity. His hand emerged mangled and twisted, tears welling in his eyes from the agony. As he dropped the net, the boat with the two onboard began to drift freely.

At that moment, Zach emerged from the bridge, leaping onto the railing to join the ongoing battle. Immanuel, despite his excruciating injury, knew he had to rejoin the fight.

Spotting another hook thrown over the railing, he rushed towards it, intercepting another group of enemies attempting to climb aboard. He waited for the opportune moment before lunging forward, slicing down the first assailant. The fallen enemy dragged another down with him into the water.

Immanuel then hastily pulled up the rope with one hand.

He ran back to where he left the boat with the two he was trying to save. Tears streaked his face as he bound the rope to the railing with his mouth and one hand, dropping his sword.

Jumping over the railing, Immanuel winced in pain from his injured hand as he plunged into the water. He swam towards the boat where the girl was again trying to paddle, hooking the hook onto the ship, using his feet against the hull and a small burst of core energy to pull the hook in the wood of the ship.

Submerging again, he swam towards the boats used for entering their ship. Emerging slowly at the back of one of the boats he saw four people still aboard, waiting for their turn to climb.

As one of them left, rocking the boat, Immanuel hauled himself out of the water using his elbows. Three remained. Spotting several spears discarded nearby, he seized one. As another enemy climbed up, Immanuel struck from behind. He sliced through the man's neck, pushing the body into the second assailant.

The third attacker, still low enough, received a brutal thrust in his anus. The man yelped in pain and tumbled down. The last, almost over the railing above, met a similar fate as Immanuel thrust the spear.

Exhausted to his very core, Immanuel secured the small boat to his ship with a combination of his teeth and his one good hand. His desire to simply collapse, to rest and heal, was overwhelming. The ship picked up speed, pulling the smaller vessel along in its wake.

As he contemplated his weariness, a spear hurled from above struck him in the shoulder, knocking him back with brutal force.

Struggling to his knees, Immanuel attempted to remove the spear with his functioning hand, but his strength was fading fast. He looked up, trying to discern the situation on the ship. Brief glimpses of Syl in motion reassured him that the fight continued, and when Zach appeared on the railing, bloodied but battling on, Immanuel knew he couldn't give up yet.

He waited for the right moment picking up another spear. As two assailants converged on Zach, Immanuel mustered his remaining strength and threw the spear, piercing one through the skull.

Immanuel collapsed, falling into the shadow cast by the ship. He tried to focus on his breathing, an attempt to distract himself from the searing pain in his hand and side. The rhythmic tug of the ship and the sound of waves crashing against its hull were the only things grounding him to reality.

Unable to pass out due to the intense pain, Immanuel lay there, counting each breath. He was acutely aware of his vulnerability and the need to stay alert, despite his body screaming for relief.

Above him, Syl’s face emerged over the railing. She descended with a swift leap, her landing causing the boat to rock violently, eliciting a pained grimace from Immanuel. Without a word, she extracted the spear and tore a remaining fragment of his trousers to fashion a makeshift bandage.

‘I should make a joke about how this isn't the time for that.’ He thought before a blinding pain shot through him.

Without hesitation, she hoisted him onto her shoulder, his every effort to suppress cries of pain. With remarkable agility, she ascended the rope, Immanuel slung over her shoulder.

Once on deck, she transitioned him into a princess carry, her gait unsteady, not quite straight, as she made her way to the bridge. There, Zach lay on a couch, his body swathed in bandages, stirring a deep sense of guilt in Immanuel.

After gently placing Immanuel on an adjacent couch and checking his bandages, she left the room.

Through the windows, Immanuel watched as they trudged past mountain ranges, leaving the city behind. Cliffs lined their path, with birds soaring and returning to unseen nests, a serene counterpoint to their recent turmoil.

Resigned to his situation, Immanuel lay back, entrusting his body’s natural healing process.

Returning with several bottles, Syl’s tone was terse. “Drink,” she instructed.

“Syl,” Immanuel began, but realizing his own depleted strength, he silently accepted the bottle. As he drank, a blissful numbness enveloped him. Syl tended to Zach briefly, and then, as the weight of the mountains seemed to rest upon his own eyelids, Immanuel succumbed to a deep, healing sleep.