“It’ll hurt, Your Highness,” I said, watching the cutlasses and an array of unsheathed swords around us. I was holding a knife over their captain, and all for two cogs, so this much was an acceptable confrontation. Garlan’s head would be chopped off first because the lanky quick pirate was on him with the gleaming long sword of the fleet officer. Then again, Garlan’s trust in me was surprising.

I burned the knife using my [Hell fire] until the red radiation damped the stillness of the night, and the sizzling metallic sound had the crewmembers grunting. Cutlasses moved closer, feet trudged on the floorboard, men and women on the deck were riled up, and thankfully, my lady was still locked inside, the prince hesitant to expose her to the blades of his men. His fondness toward her was unexplainable, but I guessed he had soft spots for bratty teenage nobles.

The blazing knife touched the top of his festering knee, and the man bit on the cloth in his mouth that Ungaln had stuffed. Lykan’s fists almost crushed the floorboard beside him, but he didn’t scream for the eyes of the crew bore into his haughty appearance. I churned the flesh a tad longer with a faint smile that was undoubtedly attributed to watching the man suffer. He had belittled this undead, after all.

The knife went deeper, piercing the flesh, and blood gushed out, staining his already dingy trousers. In a single swipe, I pulled the knife toward me, separating the festering wound from his knee, and I almost saw the bones beneath as more blood oozed out of the white muscles underneath. The meat from his knee writhed on the floorboard, and the crew moved away, fearing the cursed blobs of wriggling demon remnants.

[Heal] followed almost immediately, and the flesh covered the exposed bones underneath just as fast.

The demon remnants burned in [Holy Light], their wretched shrills disappearing amidst the horrid glances of the crew. It was an abhorrent spell for the undead alike since it did some superficial harm to us when [Undead] spell started absorbing more than the requisite life force.

“That fast, ey?” I heard a murmur from the crowd, and the swords went back to their scabbards, though the knives stayed.

“Ne’er seen that before, Capipara,” a woman close to the gunwale said, spitting out whatever greasy red thing she was chewing. She had an eye patch across her left eye, something befitting the pirates of the realm. “Think he’s a demon, ey?”

“Doesn’t look like one,” another added. “A healer. That’s all. Can’t see anything more. Bony meat and cranky legs. The glib tongue too. Never seen any’ne talk with such accent.”

Sure, he was the one to talk with his ribs almost poking out of his chest.

“Maybe? Capital folks are different,” she turned to face the boy in the basket. “See anything, Nuva?”

“All clear, Reav,” Nuva shouted, his gaze focused at a distance. “Sea as far as I (eye) can see!”

“Wind, roaring in the bushes!”

Bushes?

“Snow, underneath the sea!”

Snow?

“Brave are the ones who run, ey!”

I decided to ignore their horrendous screams with atrocious lyrics and focused on my job at hand.

I tuned the [Heal] just enough to regenerate the cells and prevented extra outgrowths from springing out that could turn into potential tumors. [Heal] involved many intricate subtleties within since it ultimately depended on holy attribute mana that could restore the cells and help in healing. The process involved three basic steps, hardly difficult for any progressive tier mage. After decades of practice, that is.

Mana transcription was the first step, during which the inherent properties of the material to be imitated were transliterated to the holy attribute mana. This process was common to both Dark and Holy attributes. The second step involved transmutation—nothing fancy, except that there was a gradual conversion of mana particles as per the transcribed gen. The final was propagation, which ultimately needed absolute control of the caster.

Of course, I made it sound too easy, but learning [Heal] spell took most of the lifetime of mortals. [Cure] was a more simplistic spell that just hastened the rate of healing of superficial injuries, so most preferred to stop at this stage. Healers among mortals were rare because there was no point in learning the spell that would do little to help them for all the years they poured into mastering it. Adding to that, the royal families and their armies monopolized most of the progressive holy attribute mages. To top the disadvantages, the spell was useless against curse magic, so most of the mages were better off learning flashy spells that didn’t require excruciating efforts like [Heal].

I got up once I was done with the chore, and Lykan touched his knee, feeling the fresh skin underneath with unconcealed bliss. I hated the fact that my magic had made this mortal happy, but the thought about more bread from his ship money kept all unwarranted murderous intentions at bay.

The prince stood up after me, and Milan watched him with tears as she steered the ship. Family? That was unlikely, but humans were known to be fickle creatures, so her tears were justifiable.

“A cog ahead! ” Nuva shouted, his farseer placed closely against his left eye. My [Devil eye] loomed beside him, watching the tapering spars of the ships in the distant blues. The moon offered little illumination, but the burning mana lamps on the other cog helped get a clearer view. My [Devil eye] could see in the dark, so the moon was a wasteful commodity for me.

“Take your positions!” Lykan didn’t spare me a glance of gratitude and rushed to the rump as my lady walked out of the room, the commotion attracting her attention. “We are traders, men!”

“Aye, Curino!” The crew replied in unison and sheathed their weapons. Some went back to the underdeck, while others started cleaning the blood on the floorboard, but no one stared in the direction of the cog.

“They have rehearsed this, mongrel,” my lady said, standing beside me with a smile that was almost a grin. “I will get to fight, won’t I?”

“We will, my lady,” I grinned for both of us. “Revel in the glory of slaughter.”

“Bodies don’t scare you, do they?” I asked, walking closer to the gunwale to get a better look at the cog.

“Even undead don’t scare me, Rudolf,” she held my sleeves as she stood beside me.

“That’s because this undead is handsome,” I ruffled her head and glanced at Lykan. A faint smile on his face disappeared when he noticed my stare, and he nodded imperceptibly with fervent dissatisfaction.

My lady mumbled something under her breath, but this old prince held my attention.

Letitia would have bitten me before, no doubt, but she wasn’t impulsive these days. I never really understood maiden girls, and I wasn’t interested either. She would become a great villainess, and I, her sincere aide. That much was more than enough knowledge on my part.

“Don’t harm the cog more than necessary,” Lykan shouted, his clear, crisp sound too faint for the vast expanse of the blues.

The weather was amicable, lighting ample, and enough men and women to loot a cog that was almost twice our size. It reeled closer each passing second, sending ravaging waves of water at our tattered ship. I thought we would be forced to change our course soon, but the second wind mage joined at the single mast to navigate the ship and maintain the subtle balance.

Cogs sailed low in the sea, so it was easy to climb into them. At least it appeared so. There were no warnings issued and no commands when grappling hooks rained on the gunwale of the cog that was right beside us. The ‘traders’ had come to the deck for a fight. It sounded more convincing than I thought it would.

A few shouts followed, and Ungaln materialized ice close to the messenger ship’s keel, forcing it to an abrupt halt.

Men scuttled around our ship, throwing more hooks and letting the ropes dangle from the hull, none interested in ascending the vessel. The shouts on the other cog had intensified, and inexperienced mortals had appeared to cut the ropes of the grapples with frightened expressions—typical traders. But there were soldiers from Halurath Isles; I noticed as they passed a quiver between the men.

“Planks!” Nuva shouted, and Ungaln cast Freeze continuously, creating planks of ice that spanned from one vessel to the other. The erratic shouts on the other vessel had intensified, and some gleaming swords shivered at the gunwale. Unglan had hardly reached halfway across the ship when his body shuddered with a violent tremor, and he coughed out blood. Curse again, I sighed. [Berserk] was the worst spell that essentially undermined the casting ability unless one became the beast without rationale.

“Cap! The stoppage disappeared!” Nuva shouted from the top. “They got wind mages to steer the ship.”

My lady rushed to the rump and climbed the stairs in haste. I wasn’t fast enough to follow her, for a springing bow laced with oil stuck right before me.

“Archers! All get down! Protect the wind mages! Drop the anchors, and don’t let the cog move!” Lykan shouted, pulling Ungaln’s body to the side. “Leave their wind mages alive! If you don’t know who, kill everyone indiscriminately.”

Orders were carried out one after the other, and my lady cast [Freeze] in Unglan’s place, stopping the massive cog from slipping past us. Arrows rained down on us, striking multiple of the crewmembers, and I rushed across the floorboard to the rump after a momentary distraction.

An arrow had stuck my lady’s hand, blood pooling around the incision. Her face contorted, but the frosty flanks spanned to the cog as more arrows rained down on the rump.

“Letitia! Get down!” I whacked her away from the gunwale and shielded her with my body as she continued casting.

“This is my test, Rudolf,” she smiled through her pain, and I pulled out the arrow from her hand as I erected a [Frost Shield] around us. More arrows and Mylan deflected them with wind, helping her prince escape the onslaught.

“Climb them, bastards! Show those fuckers what Lykan’s men can do!”

“Aye, Curino!”

I healed the blood gushing out of her hands and flicked her forehead. “You could have just ordered me to do it for you, my lady.”

“You told me I could fight, mongrel,” she smiled and nodded at Lykan respectfully, who disappeared from the rump and rushed after his men.

“Bread lad, I’m going after them,” Garlan shouted from the bottom stair. “Good work, Letitia!”

My lady clicked her tongue and glanced at me. “Go.”

“Can I?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she touched my cheek.

I dropped her to the ground abruptly, and she fell on her butt, but the dark thumping mass of darkness, shaped like a spear, rushing toward my bread lad held my attention.

“Rudolf!”