With the back of his hand, Rylan wiped away the warm liquid running down his philtrum, the tang of copper on his lips.

  His nose didn’t feel broken, and either way, Ethereon was already soothing the sting, though not his pride.

  Soren’s spirit was still emerald green, but Rylan had no doubt his friend had made his own gains over the past seasons. Either way, seeing the young noble stand tall in front of Tamina, willing to fight on Rylan’s behalf, filled him with warmth.

  “What took you so long?” Rylan griped. “Were you combing your hair?”

  “I wish,” Soren replied, rolling his eyes. “I missed my opportunity to board on the first pass because my mother was being fussy about me jumping onto a vessel full of enemy combatants.”

  Rylan glanced back at the Thistlethorn warship that was only now pulling alongside their slanted, stolen ride. Soren must have run ahead through the fog!

  The warship was passing by a lot slower this time around, but their time to jump was still limited. They would have to act fast.

  “Anyway, nice hairpin, Tammi,” Soren commented. “Really suits you!”

  “Thanks,” Tamina drawled, glancing at Rylan with a glint in her eyes. “It’s not my usual taste, but I guess it grew on me.”

  Rylan probably would’ve appreciated the sly comment more if his nose hadn’t still smarted.

  “I’m happy that you guys all got reunited,” Leahna said pleasantly. “Really, I am, but for the love of the Zenith, STOP TALKING AND GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!”

  “Right! Put her down already, Tammi,” Soren said, lifting his blade. “You’re not getting past the two of us and you know it.”

  “I’m sorry, but I still have to try,” Tamina stated calmly.

  Rylan and Soren exchanged a glance, silently communicating the way only old friends could. A twitch of Soren’s eyebrow asked whether Rylan was up to something. The tiniest nod confirmed it.

  As Tamina stepped forward, they both burst into action. Soren launched a full frontal assault, flashy steps taking him in unexpected directions before his blade came sweeping or stabbing in.

  And while Tamina was occupied with fending him off, Rylan darted towards her back, feinting a kick at her legs. As she turned her knee out from his strike protectively, however, he aborted the kick to instead grab Leahna’s outstretched arms by the wrists.

  “Hold on tight!” he said, her eyes widening as she grabbed his wrists in turn.

  Then he lightly jumped up, planted his feet in the small of Tamina’s back, and activated Jump.

  The burst of mana that erupted between them actually sent Tamina stumbling forward, as Leahna slipped out of her grip and off of her shoulder.

  Rylan and his sister went down in a tangle, but quickly scrambled up and started running up the deck. Behind them—laughing heartily—Soren quickly circled around Tamina, and blocked her from chasing them.

  “So that’s your ladyfriend, huh?” Leahna panted. “Not a great first impression.”

  “I thought you said there was too much talking?”

  Up ahead, Yuel fired a harpoon down at the Thistlethorn warship, which, by the sound of it, sank into the vessel’s deck.

  Then he put the brake on the winch to keep the rope taut, while Artoran helped a limping and groaning Nazyr up to the railing beneath it.

  Blood coated the side of Yuel’s face and neck, soaking into his hair, originating from a stray cut near his temple, but he looked otherwise fine as he slung a short leather strap over the rope and handed the ends to Nazyr.

  The half-blind former pirate grabbed a firm hold of the leather and stepped over the edge, disappearing out of view.

  Reaching the railing, Rylan spotted him on the other side, safely on the deck of the Thistlethorns’ warship.

  That was one down, but the clock was ticking, the rope creaking and shifting as the vessel continued drifting past, the winch on the caster slowly unspooling despite the brake.

  “Who’s next?” Yuel asked, slapping another short leather strap over the rope.

  Their father turned around, relief blossoming on his face as his eyes landed on them. Then he beckoned Leahna. “Come, darling, quickly!”

  Leahna hesitated, but had the good sense not to waste time arguing, and quickly stepped up to grab the leather strap. In seconds, she too sailed across the gap to the other side.

  Yuel produced yet another strap of leather. Rylan was starting to wonder why the former pirate carried so many, but he suspected he didn’t actually want to know.

  Artoran turned to Rylan, opening his mouth, but Rylan was having none of it. “You first! Now, no discussion!”

  His father’s mouth snapped shut. He nodded, a heavy look in his eyes, and he turned to grab the strap.

  [Boss!] Arphin cried, sending along an urgent impression of something sharp flying in fast from the lower side of the deck.

  Rylan reflexively grabbed his father and pulled him back, right before the glowing javelin smashed into the deck right in front of their harpooncaster, sending out a spray of bamboo as the heavy metal device toppled out into the fog.

  Yuel was left standing next to a gaping hole in the railing, his face pale, while Artoran spluttered and spat, wiping pieces of bamboo from his face.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Turning to face the threat, Rylan witnessed Helen punishing Vidric for the distraction, forcing him back with a furious assault which left a deep gouge on his thigh.

  She seemed to be intent on finishing the job, but...

  Rylan counted three more Talon warships converging on their position. They really couldn’t wait for the Thistlethorns to pass by a third time.

  “W-We should head for the next harpooncaster,” Yuel stammered, already stumbling into motion.

  “No time; we’ll have to jump,” Rylan replied, talking fast, already pulling and pushing his father along the railing to the front of the ship.

  “Jump?” Yuel repeated. “But—”

  “SOREN, HELEN!” Rylan shouted. “WE HAVE TO GO, NOW!”

  Soren quickly twirled away from Tamina, who started after him, but then—perhaps because she couldn’t spot Leahna on deck—came to a halt again, seeming content to watch them leave.

  She met Rylan’s eyes and winked at him, a small smile gracing her lips.

  “I—I can’t do it, son,” Artoran wheezed at that moment. “My legs feel like deepmetal, you’ll have to—”

  Rylan ducked in front of him and crouched down. “Hop on. We’ll make it.”

  His father hesitated for a moment, then, with a sigh, hopped onto Rylan’s back. “This is not how I’d imagined my late twenties,” he grumbled, seemingly to himself.

  “You’re thirty-four, Dad. And this morning you could barely walk, now you’re dancing around soldiers.”

  With his father on his back, Rylan rushed towards the front of the ship alongside Yuel. Halfway there, Soren fell into step beside them.

  “Where’s Helen?” Rylan panted, his calves burning from the extra weight he was carrying.

  “Keeping Vidric busy until we clear the deck, I imagine,” Soren replied, not sounding the slightest bit worried. “So let’s not keep her waiting! You got this?”

  “Yes, help Yuel!”

  Despite Soren’s cavalier attitude, Rylan couldn’t help but glance back, feeling his stomach drop when he saw how Helen was indeed still fighting, all the way on the other end of the deck.

  She knows what she’s doing... right?

  Either way, Rylan’s time to consider it was running out, as was the space until the front railing.

  Yuel and Soren got there first. Soren had slung an arm around the former pirate’s waist, and together they leapt off the railing. Shimmering platforms of light burst into life below Soren’s fancy runegear boots, slowing down their descent towards the Thistlethorn vessel.

  Along the way, Rylan had already charged his Jump Skill beyond his Overcharge limit, putting almost all of it on his right. Two quick steps brought him to right in front of the railing, where he activated his Skill in two stages.

  His left foot went off first, providing him the upward momentum he needed to plant his right foot on top of the railing. There, he set off the rest of the mana concentrated under the ball of his foot.

  The mana exploded below his boot, cracking the railing as he was sent flying, his father clinging on for dear life.

  Together they sailed out over the gap between the ships, nothing but fog below them for a long way down.

  Rylan’s stomach dropped. The jump would have been a piece of cake if he’d been on his own. But with their current trajectory...

  Yellow light flashed past, and a stiff breeze ruffled Rylan’s hair from behind, speeding them up.

  Rylan barely had time to brace himself for the landing, managing to gather only a small charge beneath his feet with a second activation of Jump.

  They just cleared the railing, light flashing beneath Rylan’s soles as his boots impacted the deck.

  Their downward momentum was still too great and his knees crumpled, more light flashing as he and his father spilt and rolled across the deck, somehow winding up next to each other on their backs.

  “Nice jump, son,” Artoran groaned, reaching out without looking to pat him on the head. “Though your landings could... use some work.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Rylan replied dryly.

  “Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

  Leahna appeared above them, looking them over worriedly, before reaching out to help Artoran up. “Oh, thank the spirits you made it...”

  Soren appeared next, grinning broadly as he reached a hand out for Rylan. “Well, that’s one way to make an entrance.”

  With a sigh, Rylan accepted the help, letting Soren pull him to his feet. “Yeah. Not quite what I had in mind, personally.”

  As he stood, he finally got a good look around the vessel. Not just the ship’s twin floaters were covered in cloudmetal, but also the railing and the cabin at the back of the deck. Moreover, the massive kite looping figure-eights overhead was attached to the winch at the centre of the deck with a thick metal chain.

  Finally, at the front of the deck there was a huge skymetal tube on a rotating platform, currently pointing back at the Talon’s warship.

  And next to that cannon stood Lady Dionne Thistlethorn and—wielding only his shield, and with a bright blue glow inside his chest—Lord Bryce Thistlethorn, Soren and Helen’s parents. And therefore also... Rylan’s maternal grandparents. That was going to take some getting used to.

  The couple wasn’t looking at them, however, their worried eyes focused on the Talon’s slanted vessel, which was now some thirty feet out and getting further and further away.

  “Wait, where’s Helen?” Rylan asked, turning to follow their gazes.

  Right as he looked, there was a flash of movement, two blue lights rapidly heading towards the railing.

  Suddenly, Helen was there, her glowing spear raised overhead. To Rylan’s surprise, she proceeded to plant the weapon in the deck right before the railing, then used it to vault herself up into the air towards them.

  His jaw dropped as she soared up high, then started to drop back down again, headed right for the deck. That has to be an Augmentation... What an awesome way to use a weapon Skill!

  However, Vidric was right on her tail. He didn’t jump, of course, but he didn’t have to. Instead, he stopped right at the railing, and hurled a javelin with all his might.

  The glowing projectile flew through the air like it had been shot from an arbalest.

  Then Lord Bryce raised his shield, and a white glow burst forth, spreading to encompass the entire ship and the still falling Helen. The javelin hit it, and Rylan had to avert his gaze at the bright flash.

  When he turned back, the javelin was tumbling back into the fog, and Helen had touched down safely on the deck, grinning widely.

  “Not bad, old man!” Vidric shouted across the fog, sounding amused if anything. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into!”

  A snort echoed out across the ship, seeming to bounce off the cloudbed below and return, causing a flock of birds to lift off the nearby rocky outcrop that held the lighthouse and flee, squawking wildly.

  Rylan’s attention fell on the final Sapphire-Grade Quinthar aboard the Thistlethorn vessel, standing atop the cabin at the rear.

  “Leave the talking to the grown-ups, child,” Beatrice Thistlethorn spoke, her voice rolling through the clouds like thunder, the deck of the ship trembling beneath Rylan’s feet. “Your family will pay for its crimes. Mark my words.”

  On her final syllable, a shudder passed through the entire ship. But theirs wasn’t the intended target.

  Rylan saw Vidric clutch his ears and stumble back, blood spilling between his fingers. At the same time, a terrible groaning came from the slanted Talon warship as its deck started to fold down the middle.

  Rylan swallowed. So that’s what a Rank 10 Skill can accomplish...

  Or more likely, what some kind of combination of high-Rank Emerald and Sapphire-Grade Skills could accomplish.

  She probably has a significantly larger Mana Pool than I. But still, there’s a limit to how large it can be at the Sapphire-Grade. She must be applying it in a smart way somehow, otherwise she could never cause that much devastation...

  His spiritvision faded as they drifted farther away, so he couldn’t quite make out what happened next, but as the dust cleared and the Talon warship they’d stolen sank below the driftline, he did spot two figures who he was quite sure were Vidric and Tamina back on their own vessel.

  Despite himself, he still felt more relieved than annoyed at the sight.

  The approaching Talon warships were turning around, seeming to have wisely decided not to try to pursue the ship with Beatrice Thistlethorn on board. Kind of a pity. Rylan wouldn’t have minded seeing her sink another one.

  The slightly awkward clearing of a throat brought him back to the here and now, and he turned to find himself face to face with... his mother.

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