The sun had barely broken the horizon when the rhythmic, sharp ring of hammers echoed across the harbor.
Kael was already on the deck of the unfinished ship, shouting orders down to his crew before the morning mist had even cleared.
“Lift it!”
Four men strained against the thick hemp ropes, their boots slipping against the wet timber.
“Slowly!”
One of the shipwrights wiped sweat from his brow and shouted back, “We are moving slowly!”
Kael grabbed the rope himself, muscles tensing as he heaved.
The massive support beam shifted an inch.
He locked eyes with the worker.
“It’s not slow enough.”
The worker let out a heavy sigh.
“Right.
Got it.”
Below the hull, Justus stood on the docks with his arms crossed, watching the timber come together.
“So…”
Kael ignored him, securing a knot.
“Kael.”
Nothing.
“Kael.”
Still nothing.
“Kael.”
Kael finally turned, exasperated.
“What?”
“When is it finished?”
Kael deadpanned.
“I told you.”
“When?”
“Today.”
Justus’s eyes widened.
“Today?”
“Yes.”
A massive grin broke across Justus’s face.
Nearby, Daemon sat on a overturned wooden crate, methodically running an oiled rag down the long barrel of his rifle.
“You’ve asked him that six times,” Daemon said without looking up.
“I wanted to make sure.”
“You’ve been asking since sunrise.”
“That’s called enthusiasm, Daemon.”
“That’s called annoying.”
Justus ignored the remark and turned his attention back to the vessel.
It was no longer just a frame of timber—it was beginning to look like a true ship.
The hull was sealed and polished.
The main deck had been installed, clean and solid beneath their feet.
The mainmast towered above them, rigging secured, while the lower cabins and storage rooms were already packed with iron rations, fresh water, weapons, and extra rope.
Justus walked slowly toward the boarding ramp, running a hand over the dark wood.
“You actually did it.”
Kael smirked.
“I told you I would.”
Justus stepped onto the deck, taking in the full sight of it.
“This is ours?”
Kael nodded once.
“She’s yours.”
Daemon finally stood, sliding a heavy cartridge into his rifle before walking the length of the deck.
His eyes picked apart every seam and plank with practiced scrutiny.
“Good,” Daemon muttered.
Justus stared at him.
“That’s it?
‘Good’?”
Daemon shrugged.
“What do you want me to say?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s a vessel designed to float.”
“You have absolutely no appreciation for art.”
Daemon lifted his rifle, checking the sights.
“I appreciate things that don’t sink.”
Kael let out a sharp laugh.
“He’s got a point.”
Justus shook his head, looking between the two of them.
“Both of you are insufferable.”
“Come look at the bow,” Kael said, gesturing toward the front of the vessel.
Justus walked forward, and as he reached the prow, his breath caught.
Carved directly into the heartwood at the front of the ship was a massive dragon’s head.
Its horns curved backward in a sleek, aggressive arc, its jaws pulled open in a silent roar, revealing two sharp fangs jutting downward.
Justus stared at it.
“The red dragon.”
“You wanted something that represented you,” Kael said softly.
Justus placed his palm against the cool, carved wood.
“Not just me.” He turned back to look at Daemon and Lyra.
“Us.”
Daemon gave a quiet, firm nod.
“We need a flag,” Justus said.
Kael grinned, reaching into his coat to pull out a tightly rolled bundle of heavy black fabric.
“Already taken care of.”
Justus unrolled it.
Stretched across the deep black canvas was a crimson dragon’s head—eyes sharp, jaws wide.
“Perfect,” Justus said.
Daemon glanced over.
“Not bad.”
Justus turned toward him, raising his brows.
“That’s twice today you’ve given a compliment.”
Daemon frowned slightly.
“Don’t get used to it.”
Light footsteps echoed on the gangplank as Lyra walked onto the deck.
Above her drifted Nimbus, the small, strange thundercloud floating lower than usual, unusually quiet in the morning chill.
Kael looked up nervously.
“Is that thing going to rain on my fresh deck?”
Lyra offered a small smile.
“Only if he gets angry.”
Kael pointed a finger at the cloud.
“Don’t.”
Nimbus crackled with a low spark of static.
Kael took an immediate step backward.
“I’m serious.”
Justus laughed, leaning back against the wooden railing to look out over the quiet harbor.
“It’s peaceful.”
“Too quiet,” Daemon said, his eyes scanning the tree line beyond the docks.
Justus sighed.
“You always say that.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
Kael looked between them.
“What are you expecting?”
Daemon’s expression hardened, his grip tightening on his rifle.
“The Guardians.”
The light atmosphere evaporated instantly.
Justus slowly straightened up.
“Think they found us?”
“They know this coast.
They know where we are.”
“Relax,” Justus said, though his hand drifted toward the hilt of Gryphon.
“We’re almost out of here.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you’re about to shoot a wall.”
“I always look like this.”
Lyra let out a soft chuckle, but before the laughter could settle—
A iron bell rang sharply across the harbor.
The sound shattered the morning silence.
A frantic dock worker came sprinting down the wooden pier, pointing wildly back toward the city gates.
“GUARDIANS!
THEY’RE AT THE HARBOR!”
Kael cursed under his breath.
“You just had to say it, didn’t you?”
Daemon racked a shell into his rifle with a loud clack.
“Everyone on the ship.
Now.”
Justus drew Gryphon, the blade clearing its scabbard with a sharp metallic ring.
A dangerous smile spread across his face.
“Finally.”
Kael stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Finally?!”
“We get to test the ship!”
Kael’s face went pale.
“Not like this!”
The harbor gates burst open as the first wave of Guardians stormed the shipyard.
Nearly twenty armored soldiers flooded the docks, their polished silver plate gleaming under the morning light. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
At the front stood a high-ranking officer, his sword already drawn.
“JUSTUS TEMPEST!” the officer roared.
Justus stood at the bow, resting Gryphon casually over his shoulder.
“That’s me.”
“DAEMON!”
Daemon raised his rifle, aiming down the sights.
“Unfortunately.”
“By order of the Guardian Council, you are under arrest!”
Justus’s grin widened.
“No.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed into slits.
“Do you understand the position you are in?”
“Completely.” Justus held Gryphon out, pointing the tip directly at the officer.
“I’m still saying no.”
“Take them!”
The Guardians charged, heavy boots thunderous against the wooden docks.
“Stay behind me,” Daemon said, stepping down the ramp.
“I can fight too, you know,” Justus muttered.
“I know.”
Daemon’s Spiritual Energy surged outward with a heavy, oppressive hum.
Metallic sheen spread across his skin—first his forearms, then his chest, until his entire body gleamed like polished steel.
His muscles expanded, and the heavy wooden planks beneath his boots cracked under his suddenly multiplied weight.
Iron Body.
The lead Guardian lunged with a spear.
Daemon didn’t dodge; he simply stepped into the attack and threw a straight punch.
BOOM!
The fist caught the Guardian squarely in the chestplate, shattering the steel and sending the man flying backward into three others.
A second Guardian swept a broadsword toward Daemon’s flank.
CLANG!
The blade struck Daemon’s neck and bounced off with a shower of sparks, leaving not even a scratch.
Daemon reached out, grabbed the man by his chest piece, and hurled him like a ragdoll into the oncoming squad.
Justus chuckled, stepping down into the fray.
“You really love doing that.”
“Focus,” Daemon growled.
Three Guardians split off, closing in on Justus simultaneously.
Justus raised Gryphon, catching the first blade on his guard (CLANG!), ducking low beneath a horizontal swing from the second.
But the third soldier swept around his blind spot, driving a heavy broadsword straight for Justus’s shoulder.
Justus turned a fraction of a second too late—
Suddenly, a violent pulse of white light exploded from Justus’s core.
The sheer force of the energy knocked the attacking Guardian off his feet.
Justus froze, staring down at his own right hand.
White light flickered across his skin like wild lightning.
…Again.
He gripped Gryphon with both hands and raised the blade.
The white Light rushed from his body into the steel.
At first, it was a thin, luminous coat, but within seconds, it intensified into a blinding, roaring aura of pure radiance.
The Guardians recoiled, shielding their eyes.
“What…
what is that?!”
Justus didn’t fully comprehend what was happening.
This energy didn’t feel like the standard Spiritual Energy he had spent years refining.
It felt primal.
Ancient.
Almost alive, humming with a terrifying weight.
Justus swung the blade downward in a sweeping arc.
“Radiant Cleave!”
A crescent wave of brilliant light erupted from Gryphon.
It didn’t just break the Guardian’s raised shield—it dissolved the metal on contact.
The energy ripped through the soldier’s heavy chest plate, throwing him fifty feet through the air until he slammed into a wooden warehouse wall.
BOOM!
The wall collapsed into splinters.
A heavy, stunned silence fell over the docks.
Justus stood frozen, breathing heavily, staring at Gryphon as wisps of white light slowly drifted off the metal.
He hadn’t meant to unleash that much destructive force; he hadn’t known he could.
Daemon glanced back at the destroyed warehouse, his stoic expression breaking for a fraction of a second.
“Justus…”
Justus looked up, sweat dripping from his chin.
“What?”
“That wasn’t normal Spiritual Energy.”
Justus looked back down at his trembling hand.
“I know.”
Lyra stepped up to the railing, her eyes wide.
“The sheer volume of it…”
“Light is considered the highest, rarest form of Spiritual Energy,” Daemon said softly, his tone unusually grave.
“Why?” Justus asked.
“Because Aurion was Light itself.”
Justus went quiet.
Aurion.
The Creator.
The origin of all power in their world.
If this Light was a fragment of that origin, then what he had just released wasn’t just a powerful technique—it was something far more dangerous.
And he had no idea how to control it.
Groaning, the Guardian officer dragged himself out of the wooden rubble.
Blood ran down his forehead, but he forced himself to his feet, staring at Justus with genuine terror.
“What…” His voice hitched.
“…what are you?”
Justus opened his mouth to reply, but the crimson in his eyes suddenly deepened into a sharp, blood-red glow.
A freezing sensation swept through his veins.
Darkness—thick, pitch-black energy—began crawling out from his skin, wrapping around his arm like ink bleeding through water.
Unlike the Light, this power didn’t shine.
It swallowed the sun.
It devoured the air around it.
Daemon felt the immediate shift in atmospheric pressure.
“Justus!
Stop!”
“I…
I can’t!” Justus gasped, his grip on Gryphon tightening involuntarily.
The Darkness surged outward in a silent shockwave.
Instantly, the ambient Spiritual Energy lingering over the battlefield evaporated.
The air went completely dead.
The Guardian officer froze mid-step, his jaw dropping as the glowing aura around his sword flickered and vanished.
He tried to summon his power, but nothing happened.
It was as if his internal well of energy had been completely drained.
“My…
my technique!” another Guardian shouted, staring at his useless hands.
“I can’t channel anything!”
Beside Justus, Daemon’s metallic sheen abruptly dissolved.
The iron skin flaked away into dust, leaving him in his normal physical form.
Daemon stumbled back a half-step, staring at his hands in shock.
“My Iron Body…” Daemon muttered, trying to reignite his core.
Dead silence.
“It’s shut down.”
“Nimbus!” Lyra cried out.
Above her, the living thundercloud gasped, shrank, and vanished into thin air.
Lyra clutched her head as the spiritual bond abruptly snapped.
“Nimbus?
Where are you?!”
Panicked screams erupted across the harbor from both sides.
For three long seconds, every single warrior on the docks was rendered completely ordinary.
Justus stood in the center of the void, staring at his dark-stained hand.
“I…
I didn’t mean to…”
Then, as fast as it had arrived, the Darkness snapped back into his chest and vanished.
The pressure lifted.
A second later, Nimbus materialised back above Lyra, crackling with nervous static.
Daemon felt his internal core ignite once more, and the Guardians’ weapons flared back to life with Spiritual Energy.
Everyone stood rooted to the spot, terrified.
Daemon turned his head slowly toward Justus, his voice deadpan but deadly serious.
“You just nullified every power in a fifty-yard radius.”
Justus looked sick.
“I didn’t try to.”
“That,” Daemon said, “is what makes it a problem.”
The Guardians weren’t moving anymore.
They weren’t looking at Justus like a bounty on a poster.
They were looking at him like a monster they didn’t have the tools to fight.
The pause didn’t last.
The Guardian officer gritted his teeth, desperation overcoming fear.
“ATTACK THEM!
THEY’RE EXHAUSTED!”
Four Guardians lunged at Daemon.
Daemon didn’t try to activate his Iron Body this time.
He calmly stepped back, raised his rifle, and pulled the bolt. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
BANG!
The heavy lead round shattered the lead Guardian’s sword mid-swing.
Daemon pulled the bolt back—clack-clack—and fired again.
BANG!
The shot caught the second Guardian in the thigh, dropping him to the dock deck with a yell.
Daemon leveled the barrel at the third soldier’s chest.
“Run,” Daemon said, his voice ice-cold.
The soldier hesitated, looking at the smoking barrel of the heavy firearm.
Daemon’s eyes narrowed.
“I won’t ask twice.”
The soldier dropped his weapon and ran for the city gates.
Justus let out a breath, a faint smile returning.
“You really don’t need magic, do you?”
Daemon reloaded another shell with practiced ease.
“I told you.
Steel and gunpowder don’t fail when your aura does.”
“Nimbus!
High altitude!” Lyra yelled from the deck.
The thundercloud surged upward, expanding until it covered the sky above the harbor in a dark, bruised purple mist.
Thick fog rolled off the cloud, pouring down onto the docks and blinding the advancing Guardians.
“I can’t see!”
“Hold the line!”
Lightning flashed within the fog.
CRACK!
A bolt of blue energy struck the center of the Guardian formation, blasting three men into the water.
“There’s more!” Lyra called out, raising both hands.
Nimbus rumbled, and a sudden, heavy downpour began soaking the wooden docks, pooling water across the planks.
Justus caught on instantly.
“Lyra!
The water!”
“I know!” She smiled brightly.
“Nimbus!
Discharge!”
CRACK-BOOM!
A massive lightning bolt hit the flooded dock floor.
The electricity traveled through the pooled water like a spiderweb, shocking every Guardian standing on the pier simultaneously.
Armor clattered against the wood as a dozen soldiers collapsed, paralyzed by the current.
Daemon raised an eyebrow, ducking under a stray spark.
“That is terrifyingly efficient.”
Lyra smirked.
“That’s the point.”
“ENOUGH!”
The Guardian officer roared, channeling his remaining energy into a massive shockwave that blew the fog away.
He locked eyes with Justus, his heavy broadsword dripping with aura.
“I will take your head myself!”
Daemon stepped up, raising his rifle.
“I’ll take him.”
Justus placed a hand on Daemon’s shoulder.
“No.”
Daemon looked at him.
“You’re already drained.”
“So are you,” Justus said, stepping past him.
“I need to do this.”
The officer charged, sweeping his heavy blade down.
Justus raised Gryphon to catch the blow.
BOOM!
The impact drove Justus back three paces, his boots carving grooves into the dock timber.
The officer pressed the advantage, raining down a flurry of strikes.
Justus parried, ducked, and countered, but his physical energy was flagging.
The black energy flickered across Justus’s knuckles again.
The officer saw it and hesitated for a fraction of a second, horror flashing in his eyes.
Justus saw the opening.
He forced the Darkness down with sheer willpower, channeling every drop of his remaining spirit into a single, focused burst of pure Light at the edge of his blade.
Gryphon ignited like a fallen star.
Justus drove the light-infused blade directly into the officer’s heavy chest guard.
The radiant force shattered the metal, blowing the officer off the pier and plunging him deep into the harbor waters.
Justus stood on the edge of the dock, gasping for air, the light fading from Gryphon.
“I really…
need to figure out how to control this,” he wheezed.
“JUSTUS!
LOOK!” Kael yelled from the helm.
Down the main harbor road, dozens of silver crests were appearing over the hill.
Reinforcements.
At least fifty more Guardians were marching toward the piers.
“How many did they send?!” Kael panicked.
Daemon slammed a fresh clip into his rifle.
“All of them.”
“We’re leaving!
Now!” Justus shouted, sprinting back up the gangplank.
“Kael, cast off!”
Kael grabbed the heavy wooden wheel, staring at the control ropes in horror.
“I built the hull!
I don’t know how to sail a three-masted ship!”
Daemon boarded right behind Justus.
“Then figure it out in the next ten seconds!”
Kael hauled on the primary lever.
“Hold on!”
The sails dropped, catching the offshore wind with a loud crack.
The vessel lurched forward, pulling away from the dock just as the first volley of Guardian crossbow bolts rained down.
Daemon turned at the stern, raising his hands.
His Spiritual Energy flared one last time, projecting a shimmering, translucent wall of force behind the ship.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
Crossbow bolts and explosive spells slammed into the barrier, cracking the energy grid.
Daemon gritted his teeth, blood trickling from his nose from the strain.
“Kael…
anytime today…”
“We’re caught on the harbor line!” Kael yelled.
Lyra sprinted to the stern beside Daemon.
“Nimbus!
Tide burst!”
The cloud plummeted into the harbor water directly behind the ship and released a localized atmospheric explosion.
A massive wave of water slammed against the stern, propelling the Red Fang forward and snapping the harbor mooring lines like string.
The ship surged out into the open waters of the bay.
Daemon let his barrier collapse, staggering back against the railing.
Justus caught him by the arm.
“You good?” Justus asked.
Daemon wiped the blood from his lip and offered a rare, tired smirk.
“I’m still standing, aren’t I?”
The northern coast began to shrink into the distance.
The Guardians remained gathered on the destroyed docks, watching helpless as the ship caught the deep-sea currents.
No pursuit ships were launched—their harbor defenses were in ruins.
Justus stood at the bow, looking up at the high-flying black flag.
The crimson dragon snapped proudly against the blue sky.
“We actually made it,” Justus whispered.
Kael walked up behind them, leaning against the mainmast, looking back at his home port with a conflicted expression.
Justus noticed and turned around.
“You okay?”
Kael nodded slowly.
“Yeah.
She floats.
She really floats.”
Justus looked at the master shipwright for a long moment, then held out his hand.
“Come with us, Kael.
There’s room for you here.”
Daemon leaned against the rail, watching silently.
Kael looked at Justus’s extended hand, then down at the receding port where his life had been.
He smiled softly, but shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Justus frowned.
“Why?”
“I built this ship, but I still have debts to settle back there.
The shipyard needs to be rebuilt, and after the mess we just made, those people need someone to protect them from the Council’s retribution.”
Kael reached out and firmly grasped Justus’s hand.
“But once I’m done?”
Justus searched his face.
“When?”
“I’ll find you,” Kael said with absolute certainty.
The northern coast shrank into the distance, leaving the smoking harbor far behind.
Meanwhile, back on the shattered docks, rain drizzled over the broken planks and fallen soldiers.
High-ranking Guardian officers moved among the debris, their faces pale as they surveyed the absolute destruction.
Inside the temporary command tent, the surviving commander knelt before a glowing communication