On the third week, the eastern land is in sight. Feno’s standing by the bridge, outlooking the bow spirit that’s spearing past the grey smog. So thick, the sunlight’s unable to shine. In the distance, explosions are going off in radiating gold, silver and violent red. Flashing in the mushroom clouds of smoke that refuses to clear. Fire burning the mountains to the heavens, some of them, caved in on itself beneath its own weight. Compared to the first time they’ve saw it, the eastern lands are nearly unrecognizable now,

They’ll be reaching their destination tomorrow morning. The sight of it has made the squadron gloom. Most of them, choosing to remain in their dorms except for the few others, that are scattered about the decks. Brooding into the distance, registering the fact, that may be their final resting place.

But it’s funny, because beside Feno’s ship, Algo’s squadron is insistent on partying through until the very end. Trying to lift the rest of the fleet’s spirits with an upbeat song. No one else is as keen to sing along.

It’s a quiet breakfast, lunch and dinner in the cafeteria. Feno’s seated amidst Demos, buzz cut, and three other squadron members on a bench table. Even Demos, who’s usually persistent on asking way too personal questions such as, how was Lanara like in bed, and did freckles and bowl cut hook up in the end, ate his bread and stew in silence.

Behind Feno, on another table, a brunette woman’s broken out in tears. She’s crying that she may never see her son and husband again. Her child’s going to be motherless at the age of five. Hearing it makes the mood even heavier than it already is. Beside her, a younger, teal hair girl is trying to comfort her, she’ll need to be strong to return to them, despite she herself is holding back tears. But ironically, it just makes the navy haired man across them begin bawling. Regretting that the last conversation that he’s had with his grandpa, resulted in an argument. He will never get the chance to apologize.

A few of the adventurers are rushing out of the cafeteria, looking like they’re about to throw up at the thought of it. It’s exactly what Feno’s feared. How many would actually change their minds when they’re actually here? When they actually witness the reality of Luci’s destruction. He’s tightening his hands to a fist, yet he’s unable to address anything.

He’s unable to lie to them that everything is going to be okay. Beside him, buzz cut is straightening his back, flicking his head around frantically looking for something, and when he doesn’t find it, he finally asks,

‘Where’s Nana?’ Feno briefly scans across the room. Buzz cut’s right, she isn’t here, ‘in her room, probably.’ he guesses, ‘What do you need her for?’

‘I’m going to confess my feelings.’ buzz cut replies standing up,

‘It may be my only chance to say it.’ and not waiting for an answer before he scurries off, out the door. The silence looms for a bit further, the sobs are getting infectious. More and more regrets, surfacing in whispers, I haven’t achieved this, I wouldn’t be able to do that, I shouldn’t have came along, I want to go home. It’s riling Demos up, he’s shaking, slamming his hands on the table. Abruptly bolting up, screeching the bench against the wooden floors,

‘Get a hold of yourselves!’ he admonishes, rattling the plates on the table. Looking like he’s heard enough. Forty pairs of eyes, drawn upon him as the sobbing dies to shock to watch Demos holler,

‘Where did your resolves go? You’re all fucking pathetic right now!’ he’s flickering his eyes towards a young man,

‘Silas!’ to which he immediately straightens when he’s being called out, ‘when your little sister got kidnapped by slave traffickers, who was it that’s brought her back to you in one piece when your incompetent ass failed the mission.’ it’s making him look away in embarrassment, but Demos isn’t giving him time to respond, he’s insistently going after the next, targeting navy hair dude,

‘Kron, when your grandpa’s fallen gravely ill, who was the one that went across continents to search for a Medicus skilled enough to cure him?’ he’s relentless, flickering to the crying mother next,

‘Melissa, when you raked up a bunch of gambling debts and pissed off the guild leader of Theseus, who paid it off for you and saved your ass from imprisonment?’ flowery as a selfless narrative is, in the end, nothing invokes the same level of emotions as resentment and bitterness,

‘Did you ungrateful bastards already forget what Captain Lanara’s did for you? It’s because of her, the lot of you are here today, it’s because of her, the lot of you can even whine about regrets. So why are you looking like helpless lambs being sent to the slaughter house. Did you fuckers already forget what the crimson witch’s taken from us?’ it’s easier to want revenge, want to get even, than it is to forgive injustice. Demos points beyond the port windows where it outlooks the destruction, to hit the final nail in the coffin,

‘Are you contented with this? Do you want Athens to look like this again? She’s going to kill your sister, your son, your grandfather if you self-victimizing bastards lose your will to fight before the battle even starts!’ that last statement has made them deathly quiet. They aren’t saying anything back.

The silence looms a few moments longer, before Silas begins tapping his mug against the table, muttering softly in agreement,

‘Demos is right...’ Kron’s the next to follow, then Melissa, following more, and more squadron members until it begins sounding like heavy rain beating down a roof, Silas is forcing himself to say, raising his mug towards Demos,

‘If we die. We’ll die with honor.’ pressing three fingers against his throat,

‘If we let the crimson witch break us now, we’ve already lost the fight.’ Feno’s showing his support, mimicking them. Air toasting him, Demos returns his gesture,

‘Don’t give up. Struggle. No matter how unsightly, struggle to the very end.’ leading the rest of the squadron to chug. They’re still lowering the emptied mugs down when a resounding bang draws their attention towards the door. Feno turns over his shoulders to watch a hyperventilating buzz cut shout,

‘Something really bad is going on! Don’t drink the rum anymore!’ and stare in absolute horror when he comes to the realization that they’ve already did. He’s receiving confused glances for a brief moment, ominously revealing his next statement like air’s being choked out of him,

‘The rum’s been Magia bombed...’ all too late. Feno hasn't fully registered what was said with a confused,

"What?" before a squadron member starts coughing. Feno turns to look,

It’s navy hair dude, slapping a palm over his lips, softly at first, before it gets more, and more violent that he sounds like he’s gagging his lungs out, doubling over himself, he collapses off the bench on his knees. There’s a dim glow of white radiating from his stomach. It’s getting brighter, as if it’s trying to escape. That seems to have set off a chain effect. Glowing the room in white light. Everyone else around Feno begins coughing too, wheezing and falling to the ground in heavy thuds and suffocated groans.

Magia bombed? By who? When? What’s going on?

Feno’s getting panicked, bolting up the chair to weave around the table to catch Demos as he falls. Demos’s clasping his mid-section, in so much pain he can hardly speak. The light’s blinding now, piercing outwards like blades, it’s bleeding him out. A trail of red splitting on his tunic looking as though cracks on a dry wall, before the blood, gushes like a high-pressure sprinkler and with a gut-wrenching splat, the entire cafeteria explodes into fleshy pieces. Raining organs and limbs as the remains of Demos’s body, slops to the ground like pieces of butchered meat. Feno’s still holding onto his severed arm over the shoulders. Completely stupefied, flickering his head around to watch blood ooze. He hasn’t accepted the event with how abruptly everything’s occurred.

Just half minute ago, they were all alive and well. And now, Feno’s surrounded by corpses. Then he snaps over to the doorway when he hears another thud, its buzz cut this time. Going out in the exact same way.

Feno’s drank the rum too, lifting both palms to examine if it’s going to be his turn next. That’s when he sees Nana’s pink emblem, untracing his hand and fading away. Her Magia’s saved him.

That’s right, Nana! Is she okay?

Feno desperately bolts out the door, nearly slipping on the trail of blood that’s seeping through the floor cracks. There are more dead adventurers here, emptied mugs rolling on the ground. That’s probably what’s alerted buzz cut to warn them. But Feno’s finding more priority to skid down the stairs, towards the dorms where more dead bodies lie scattering along the hall and splattering up ceilings in grotesque red.

Outside, screams and explosions are going off. Together with a thunderstorm, ripping deafeningly across the skies. So loud, it’s starting to ring in Feno’s ears. The other fleets are in combat. Waves, abruptly and rampantly picking up. Tossing him violently against the walls like a pinball. Crashing dents in the wooden planks, but he’s stabbed a manifested blade into it. Using it as a mountain climber’s ice axe to keep going forward the roller-coastering ship.

They’ve been ambushed. And whoever’s orchestrating it, has a monstrous amount of Vita to overload this many adventurers at once.

Dodging a mutilated body sliding towards him, Feno finally reaches his destination. Throwing the door open with his shoulders,

‘Nana!’ he’s greeted with an empty room. A chair, skidding out as he presses himself against the frame to avoid it. Letting it smash loudly into the wall behind him and screeching off in the different direction. Her brown sling bag was atop of it, contents emptied out.

She’s not here. He’s frantically searching for her, trying room after room whilst shouting for her name but his voice’s hardly audible with the sounds of destruction drowning him out. Staring down the hallway, more furniture is been thrown out that it’s starting to resemble a rhythm game. The swaying’s making Feno dizzy. His sight’s beginning to spin but he continues running forward, looking like he’s heading to the deck and investigate the commotion. That is until, a giant water tentacle suddenly smashes through the ceiling to the ground directly in front of him. Splitting the floors in half and earthquaking the entire ship. Immediately, waves begin flooding in through the gaps as if a broken dam. Blistering rain, beating down the clouded skies above him, suddenly revealed, akin abruptly drawn curtains. Feno’s slipping forward, towards the rampaging tides, whipping at him lash after lash, drenching him entirely, but that’s the least of his concerns.

The water tentacle’s darted back out again, curling around him to hoist him high up into the air. Tightening around him. It’s then, he realizes, this isn’t the only one there is. There’re countless of them, sprouting like weeds from the stormy ocean surface, completely surrounding the mid combating fleets in a giant radius.

But Feno doesn’t have time to dwindle about the safety of others. The tentacle looks insistent on crushing his bones. He’s grimacing against it, pulling an arm free to wave an ice blade into his hands. Stabbing it into the water construct. Ice rapidly freezing downwards, shattering the tentacle, as they hail, like sugar cubes into the violent waves. Puncturing holes in whatever remains of his ship into complete drift wood and debris. Capsizing larger portions that the sea’s eager to claim to its darker depths.

Feno’s falling with it. Another water tentacle is quick to replace the previous, darting out straight as an arrow. This one’s trying to spear him instead. But Feno’s caught by a cloud bird, holding him in its beak before he’s impaled and soaring towards Algo’s ship. It’s shielded by a golden barrier of Magia that opens up as he’s dropped on the deck before it pieces close again like a honey comb. Fray’s the one that’s casted it from atop the main mast, quill in his hand as he scribbles the incantation mid-air. It’s resisting the barrage of water tentacles slamming against it. Bouncing them off, but they’re starting to make cracks on where they’ve persistently hit. It makes the Magia runes fade away, so Fray’s consistently mending the spell like he’s rewriting an essay.

Blanc’s here too, extending a hand amidst the chaos of frantic spell blasting adventurers to help Feno up,

‘Don’t space out! We’re under attack!’ her voice is panicked,

‘Division five is already wiped. Sameul’s dead!’ that’s pirate. Judging by the debris in the ocean, his squadron was probably the first to receive the attack. The surviving squadrons whose fleets are destroyed have all collected on Algo’s ship.

Avoiding shoulders, Blanc’s rushing to the opposite side and summoning more cloud birds to salvage whatever living adventurers there are that’s clinging onto driftwood. Plenty more have already drowned with their lifeless corpses, tossed like wilted petals above the waves. Others are crushed like paper within the tentacle’s grip, or impaled like skewers. It isn’t effective, most of the adventurer’s spells are going right through the water constructs. They can’t even retaliate.

And that isn’t even the only thing they have to worry about. They’re all being sucked inwards, towards a dark swirling whirlpool away from the eastern land shores. Feno’s just watched division seven and eight’s ships get consumed. They’re the only ship remaining.

The situation has just got worse, the barrier gives way. Shattering like glass as Feno watches a giant tentacle, the size of their entire vessel, crashes down from above him. Feno immediately leaps towards it. Waving two ice blades in hand to catch it in a crisscross. He can’t let this tentacle hit. It’s going to destroy the ship. But he’s unable to freeze it all, the patch of ice, still spreading out in a circle, its immense strength is rapidly smacking him down considering he doesn’t have any purchase beneath his feet. Just as it obliterates the tip of the tallest mast, a gold sigil of a sword is drawn behind him. Fray’s attacked buffing him. Making his ice speed up frantically. Going around the tentacle like a wrapper and freezing the entire thing like a sculpture.

A bolt of red flashes in the peripheral of Feno’s eyes. It’s Blitz. He’s here too. Leaping from the deck to follow up, winding his scythe to hack into the collapsing structure. Dragging a trail of crimson Magia, radiating out the crevices he’s making as he runs along the surface, so quick, Feno’s only seeing the afterimage of red lines exploding the frozen tentacle into pieces. The adventurers beneath him are bombarding spells to disintegrate whatever larger falling ice chunks just as gravity finally takes Feno back onto the deck.

But he isn’t given time to rest, now that the barrier’s gone, the tentacles have become ruthless. Sweeping across their decks, flinging adventurers off the ship, others, crushed in the air into a slew of blood mist. Packed as it is, any blind hit’s able to kill someone. There are at least four squadrons squeezed onto the claustrophobic death trap leaving them hardly room to maneuver. The casters are handicapped to bombarding their surroundings to avoid friendly fire. But aside from ice Magia which only a handful wields, nothing else is working.

Feno dodges the tentacle has just darted up under him. It’s pierced through the hull from beneath the surface. Tearing the wooden boards along with it. Getting the unfortunate adventurer beside him instead, skewering him into two clean halves that thuds on the ground on each side. Relentlessly lashing downwards, trying to get Feno too. He’s frozen it just in time for Algo to cleave through it with a battle axe. He’s frantically flicking his head to beckon him,

‘We’re abandoning ship!’ leading him towards a massive cloud bird that Blanc’s summoned at the bridge. All the survivors are rushing there. They’re getting closer to the whirlpool. If the tentacles don’t sink them, that certainly will.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Feno asks as he runs after Algo,

‘It’s Raven’s Death’s third admiral’s Magia! The crimson bitch’s got him zombified and he’s ambushing us from the shores. Vaegil’s swimming there fast as he can right now, he’s taken division one with him. But it doesn’t look like they’ll make it in time!’ dodging more tentacles that’re relentlessly whipping at them. Feno’s shattered one that’s slamming for him over head, tilting over his shoulders to watch another tentacle flatten unfortunate adventurers behind him that didn’t react in time, looking like he wants to help but Algo orders,

‘Don’t! There’s no point fighting, there’s no end to it unless we kill the caster.’ he’s straightened his gaze to address Algo when he says,

‘Trying to save everyone will just result in an entire team wipe!’ the ship’s sinking. Water’s gotten onboard, and it’s rapidly rising to their ankles,

‘We’ve got to accept this loss and regroup with Vaegil with whatever remaining forces we can salvage!’ from the looks of how things are headed, Blanc’s bird can only manage to hold half a squadron full of men. Blitz and Fray are there, they’re only allowing those they deem strong enough onboard. Choosing to forsake the weaker majority entirely.

‘No...’ Feno abruptly stops. He doesn’t look willing to sacrifice anymore comrades after powerlessly witnessing his entire division die before him.

They’re already on the radius of the whirl pool. It’s speeding up the ship, throwing them around in circles like a washing machine. It wouldn’t even be a minute before everyone that still remains on the ship drowns. But Feno’s manifested an ice blade. Stabbing it into the ground. Freezing up the surface, spreading across the entire deck, but it isn’t winning against the rapidly swishing currents around them. Lashing waves destroying the ice crystals with sheer force. They are getting closer and closer to be completely sucked in.

Is Feno honestly trying to freeze the ocean? The dude’s nuts. It looks like a futile attempt. At least there aren't as many tentacles here.

Blanc’s frantically shouting from her bird,

‘What the heck are you doing dumb cunt! Get onboard otherwise I’m ditching you!’ Feno isn’t budging. Instead, he’s closing his eyes, he’s concentrating on channeling his Magia. It’s dropping the temperature. Vapors, freezing to white mist, crystallizing up the mast, walls, forming icicles on the shrouds and sails. Stray droplets, solidifying into beads when it comes into contact the small radius of cold air and begins expanding beyond the ship. Making a sheet of ice cap, trying to crawl further. His gestures have made another ice manipulator mimic. He’s running off the bird to conjure a frosty beam from the tip of his staff as if mists of a fire extinguisher. Helping Feno out. Blasting it towards the outer rims to expand the size of it. Inspiring the mages who are stranded on the ship to start too. They’re trying their best to expand the surface area against the relentless seas that’re mercilessly chipping away their efforts. Whereas others, are driving back the stray tentacles that are threatening to end their endeavors.

It still won’t be enough. They’re seconds away from being swallowed whole by the whirlpool. The wind manipulators are following up, stalling for time with ravaging gusts that they’ve collectively summoned to sail the ship the opposite direction. It’s also spreading the frost rapidly towards a side. The sight lights an idea in Fray’s head. He’s scribbling with his pen in the air, summoning a light sigil behind Feno’s back. One sword, two swords, three swords, each multiplying his Magia’s effectiveness. The platform’s growing into a thick glacier. Breeching into the whirlpool itself that the water needs to go around it. Splashing upwards, immediately frozen over, immediately destroyed by the next wave. Blitz’s caught on, commanding with a flared-out palm,

‘Anyone that can use buffs. Stack it on top of him!’ it’s moving the adventurers. Feno’s getting bombarded with gold light. Emblems, being drawn one on top of one another beneath him,

‘Buff the shit out of that kid!’ incantations, spiraling around him in a myriad of different runes. It’s actually working. The crashing waves have frozen into an ice tide and it’s digging deeper, deeper into the ocean depths looking like ice berg that’s increasing in size. The temperature’s dropped so low that even the stray tentacles that’s swiping at them are freezing over immediately with the sub-zero degrees. It’s getting so cold their breaths are misting. The adventurers are beginning to get frost bite, but Blanc’s drawing clouds around them to keep them warm as though a coat.

It’s actually working. The whirlpool’s losing speed, getting slower and slower, shallower and shallower. The blistering rain, at this point, has turned to hail around them. With one last bout, a beat of aura pulses around Feno. Blue as a crystal, freezing a thick layer of sea surface, tentacles along with it, now looking like tasteless ice sculptures in the one-kilometer radius where the aura’s swept across.

He did it, he actually did it. The nut job’s actually frozen the ocean. It’s then, Feno slowly opens his eyes. Hyperventilating to catch his breath. The buffs are gradually dissipating off him one by one. Getting up, Feno’s still wobbling, trying to find his ground when Algo slaps across his back,

‘Good job, boy!’ throwing Feno forward by a step, before his voice softens and he’s actually tearing up, pulling him into a hug,

‘You saved us...’ it’s funny, because Feno isn’t celebrating that. Muttering very quietly beneath his breath,

‘But I couldn’t save my own squadron...’ there’s a traitor in their midst who’s Magia bombed the drinks and they may still be here. But Algo doesn’t hear him. The other adventurers are beginning to crowd around him, singing gratitude and praises as Algo, despite Feno’s protest, lifts him up in the air. He’s getting crowd surfed, whilst still trying to convey the message that no one’s listening to. Their momentary victory cheers of his name and savior are drowning out his desperate cries of,

‘Wait, please hear me out!’

Even Blanc, sitting on her cloud bird with Fray and Blitz, is yelling at him,

‘Just enjoy the moment! Don’t be so uptight! You may be a dumb cunt, but you’re a her-’ and couldn’t finish the word before her eyes widen to the abrupt pink glow, suddenly radiating above them. Feno’s concerns were rightfully justified. There is a traitor amongst their midst, and they are still here.

When Feno’s tilted his head up to witness what’s causing it, the violent beam of Magia is inches from his nose, encroaching in milliseconds, he doesn’t even react.

But Algo did, violently throwing Feno away like a rag doll towards Blanc that’s caught him with a cotton cloud. Rapidly tilting his gaze over his shoulders. All he’s seeing is a radiating flash of violent pink light consuming the ship entirely in a thunderous explosion, loud as a bomb going off right beside his ears, that he’s forced his eyes shut with how blindingly bright it is.

When he opens them again, replacing the frozen ship, is a gigantic hole carving through the glacier tunnelling all the way through to the deep seas.

Everyone’s... gone. Disintegrated to dust that not even corpses remain.

Above it, there’s an awfully familiar emblem drawn into the sky of a dreamcatcher.