“You’re different now,” Ull says as he brings Nell into the room serving as a temporary bedroom for her.

“Am I?” Nell asks, refusing to look at him.

“You seem disappointed that you are back here. You knew I was going to find you, surely.”

Nell does not give him a response.

“Don’t tell me that you actually believed he was going to be able to help you, did you?”

She starts to form fists but stops.

“You belong to me, my precious Nehalennia. He would have just used you or sold you off like everybody else wanted to. Are you forgetting that I am the only one who truly wants to keep you?”

“That does not stop you from wanting to use me just as they all have,” Nell answers.

“Of course I want to use you. You are mine. It is only normal for somebody to use that which belongs to them, isn’t it? Even so, I care for you and wish to take care of you.”

“I would rather be uncared for than have the perverse care of somebody like you.”

Ull grabs her by her hair once more, lifting her up off the ground and pushing her against the wall. “I do not like defiant pets. You would be smart to destroy any lingering hope inside of that childish mind of yours. You are mine, and unless you start over with a new body, that will never change. Do I make myself clear?” he asks, tossing her down onto the floor.

Nell doesn’t answer him again.

Instead of wasting more time talking to her, Ull places heavy chains around her ankles and wrists. “I don’t normally mind you escaping, but until we deal with this new attitude of yours, you will not be permitted to waste my time.”

With that, Ull leaves the room, posts two guards inside of it with her, and locks the door behind him.

…

“Think he’ll be on soon?” Cassiel asks Serra.

The two girls are sitting at the end of the pier. Cassiel is hanging her legs off of it and gently kicking them back and forth, and Serra is on her knees behind the blonde with her chin resting atop Cassiel’s head and her arms draped over the other’s figure.

Serra occasionally sneaks in a few gropes of Cassiel’s chest, and to her surprise, she only gets a blushing pout from Cassiel in response to her perverse hands.

“Yeah. He won’t miss this,” Serra answers.

“He’s cutting it pretty close, that bastard. I swear if he’s late,” Cassiel says.

“He won’t be.”

“He better not be. Oh, and I wanted to ask, what’s it like having so many parents?”

“Lots of presents,” Serra answers with a thumbs-up.

“Between your parents and now me and Ryouta, don’t you think you’re a bit spoiled?”

“I’m super spoiled,” Serra says with a smile.

“Hmph. I – I don’t get spoiled…”

“Cass Cass.”

“What?” Cassiel asks, turning her head to look at Serra now that her head is off of her own.

Serra plants a kiss right on Cassiel’s lips. “I’ll spoil you whenever you want me to,” Serra says.

“I – o-okay, maybe I get spoiled, too,” Cassiel says with flushed cheeks.

…

“Oi, big guy, hand me that wrench,” Tabitha orders Bonekraka.

Bonekraka tosses the wrench so that it lands next to her, scratching the floorboard of The Shoebill.

“Hey! I just cleaned this baby up! Ya gonna fix that yourself?!”

“Nyet,” Bonekraka answers, and a moment later, he has a wrench hitting the back of his head and a pissed off Tabitha glaring at him from the engine.

“Now come bring me it the proper way!”

Bonekraka turns to look at Tabitha with his hands balled into fists, but when he sees the look in her eyes, he’s reminded of his wife.

The grumpy orc submissively takes the wrench over to her, handing it to her properly.

“Thank ya. See, now was ‘at so hard to do? Next time don’t try sassin’ me and scratchin’ my baby up.”

“Da.”

…

“O-Olly, you mustn’t – we have such little time,” Corwin says, looking both left and right to make sure that nobody is coming down the alleyway that Oleander has him pushed against the wall in.

“Come on, Cor, we both know I can make you fire your cannon quickly enough,” Oleander coos, running one hand up Corwin’s chest while another travels dangerously lower down his abdomen. “Shouldn’t you be happy that you have a lover so eager to please you?”

“I – I assure you that I am beyond happy, but what if somebody sees?”

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t like getting caught in the act?” Oleander’s teasing fingers trace against Corwin’s body.

Corwin gulps. “I… do not entirely dislike the thought, but—”

“Then,” Oleander pauses to sink his hands into Corwin’s pants, “let’s have some fun before the tournament starts. We don’t know when we’re going to be able to do this again.”

“I’m sure we will have time to in only a few hours! It is not as if we are leaving one another.”

“If you want me to stop, all you have to say is ‘stop,’” Oleander looks up at Corwin’s face with a smug grin.

Corwin doesn’t tell him to stop.

…

Rock is in the middle of a stare down with one of the stray cats that has been visiting The Shoebill to taunt her on a daily basis. Rock knows that she’s not allowed off of the ship right now, and the cat picks up on this by the fact that Rock doesn’t even try chasing him away.

The cat rolls onto his back and kicks his paws up in the air.

Rock barks.

When the cat notices that Rock is missing one of her back paws, he goes and licks his own paw that she’s missing while making eye contact with Rock the entire time.

Rock starts whining.

The cat even lifts one paw up to scratch its ear as if mocking Rock for now missing half of one of hers.

Rock whines even more.

Eventually, the cat ends its teasing of Rock and leaves.

Rock heads back over to the ship’s mast to curl up against it. Only, as soon as she gets comfortable against it, she hears a familiar meowing.

She jumps back up, stumbling at first since she still isn’t used to missing a paw, and runs over to gangplank! Yet, rather than see a cat, she sees a couple of small rocks left for her.

…

“I swear my throat would be killing me if I had to talk like that all the time in real life, Rachel,” Blackstache says as he sprawls out on the couch in his office.

The Lightning Witch, Rachel, pinches him by his ear and yanks him off of his couch!

“What the hell was that for?!” he shouts at her.

“You are not going to take a nap right now. You are expected to watch the tournament, and then you have plenty of paperwork to go through,” Rachel explains, patting two stacks of piled up papers on his wooden desk.

“This is a game! I just wanted to be a bard for a pirate crew! Why am I stuck having to do so much paperwork?”

“Because you went and became somebody important. You have nobody to blame but yourself.”

“I should just start over with a new character,” Blackstache groans.

“Do so and I will ensure that you cook your own food, do your own laundry, and shop for your own food.”

Blackstache gulps. “Wh-when you put it that way…”

…

“What do you think I should do, Saya?” Ryouta asks as his consciousness is transferred into Fenrir’s body.

“I ‘dunno, Onii-chan. I couldn’t tell you even if I did know,” Saya answers. “But you can’t be going around being a sore loser just because you’ve lost for the first time in… huh, looking through your memories, is this seriously the first time you’ve ever lost?”

“If you don’t count suicides or times where I purposely died, yeah,” Fenrir answers.

“Woah! No wonder why you’re such a sore loser, you have no idea how to lose!”

“I feel like that’s an insult and a compliment at the same time.”

“Mostly an insult, Onii-chan.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Anyways! Cheer up! Serra Berra and Cass Cass aren’t going to be very happy if you’re still all mopey around them. Plus I already know you regret not enjoying the seafood festival with them. Gosh, seafood is so rare in real life, and then you go and skip a free festival for it just to be some mopey baka!”

“You’re right. I’ll just have to make my own seafood festival to enjoy with them.”

“With blackjack and hookers?”

“With sweaters and hentai.”

“Gross, Onii-chan.”

“I know. Anyways, I’m ready to immerse now. The Soaring Wolves and The Shoebill have got a first round to win.”

“Are you going to continue being mopey and grumpy? Oh, and should I schedule an appointment to have your hand looked at? It probably wasn’t a smart idea to punch your wall, Onii-chan. You didn’t even dent it…”

“Sh-shut up. I was angry, and… I’m pretty sure I didn’t break anything, so my hand should be fine.”

“If you say so, Onii-chan! Good luck in the tournament!” Saya cheers him on before leaning across their usual table and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Since when are you so affectionate?” Fenrir asks, but rather than get an answer, he is transported into the world of Fantasy Tales Online once more.

It is time for the tournament to officially begin.