The Ghost Ship’s Embrace

With the helmsman’s expert guidance, the *Monster*’s hull slowly drew alongside the spectral ship adrift on the waves. A dull thud resonated through the air as the two vessels made contact.

The ghost ship merely swayed with the ocean’s rhythm, utterly devoid of any discernible activity.

“Bridge the gap!”

At Talia’s command, the sailors, who had been poised for this moment, swiftly hurled boarding grappling hooks, securing the ghost ship firmly. Long wooden planks were then extended, forming a makeshift bridge to the target vessel’s gunwale.

The sailors, hands clenched and boots braced against the gunwale, awaited Talia’s final order with bated breath.

The ghost ship’s confines were clearly limited, its interior likely cramped and labyrinthine. For a spellcaster like Kaelan, a quintessential ‘glass cannon’ vulnerable to ambush, this environment was ill-suited for the impending action.

Taking a deep breath, Saranya gently reached to lift Kaelan from her shoulder, intending for her master to remain safely aboard.

Yet, Kaelan remained unyielding. Her master, usually so light, sat upon her shoulder as if rooted, utterly unmoving.

“Xiao Ya.”

“Hm?”

The calmness in her master’s voice surprised Saranya. She turned her head, her gaze locking with Kaelan’s.

There was no need for Saranya to voice her plea for Kaelan to stay. Their bond transcended words; Kaelan would undoubtedly grasp her unspoken concern.

“Mn.”

With a soft hum of assent, Kaelan extended a slender, pale finger, gracefully tracing the soft armor along Saranya’s neck. The icy touch of her fingertip sent a shiver through Saranya, raising a delicate prickle of goosebumps on her skin.

It was as if Saranya, for the first time, truly felt the frantic pulse of her own carotid artery.

‘I like this…’

She reveled in Kaelan’s touch, in her master’s remarkably low body temperature, in the cold yet tantalizing gestures. The fervent, undisguised dependence and yearning Kaelan pressed upon her, as if threatening to consume her entirely, didn’t suffocate Saranya; instead, it made her feel profoundly alive.

With an air of absolute scrutiny, Kaelan’s fingertips glided upward, brushing past Saranya’s trembling throat before delicately pinching her chin, compelling her to lift her head. Saranya complied, her rosy lower lip pressed into a submissive line, yielding to her master’s caress.

Kaelan continued to toy with her, much like one might fondle a cherished luxury. Then, the young witch leaned in, her lips brushing Saranya’s earlobe as she delivered a soft, hushed command:

“Do not get hurt.”

Kaelan’s expression was impassive, yet tinged with a persistent, possessive intensity.

“Tell me you understand.”

“I… I understand, Master.”

Saranya’s voice was a little rough as she responded. She watched Kaelan gracefully twist and slide from her shoulder to the deck. Then, her gaze flickered to Paresha Greystone, observing the young priestess’s worried frown, clearly anxious but hesitant to act. Saranya couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle, offering a small nod of reassurance.

“Go.”

“Board!”

Talia’s command erupted simultaneously, a thunderous roar. The sailors bellowed in response, jostling and scrambling onto the precarious, sloping wooden planks.

Instead of joining the throng on the planks, Saranya gripped the gunwale and cast a quick glance at the *Monster*’s hull. Spotting a climbing net, and judging the height difference to be manageable, she decisively swung over the side. She seized the netting, her long boot finding purchase on the hull, propelling herself with a powerful kick towards the ghost ship’s deck.

She landed with precision on the deck, one knee touching the weathered planks. Her movement was both light and elegant, eliciting a soft creak from the wood beneath her.

“Woooah!”

Right behind her, Talia launched into action. Far less conservative, the female sailor took two powerful strides across the deck, then explosively propelled herself upwards. Her powerful calf muscles flexed and swelled, launching her high into the air, soaring over the teeming mass of sailors before plummeting towards the ghost ship’s deck.

A resounding *CRASH!*

Talia slammed down beside Saranya like a cannonball, sending a cloud of dust billowing around them. Shouldering her scimitar, she flashed a wide grin, revealing two rows of pristine white teeth, and playfully raised an eyebrow at Saranya.

“Everyone, keep up! Don’t be lagging behind this old woman!”

The crew responded in kind, and without encountering any resistance, the boarding operation was swiftly completed.

Oddly, the boisterous sailors who had been shouting on the *Monster* fell silent upon stepping onto this ship. Even basic communication became a hesitant affair, conducted with hushed whispers and minimal gestures.

And truly, they could not be blamed.

The moment Saranya’s boots touched the deck, an indescribable, eerie chill of death swiftly enveloped her, surging from the soles of her feet directly to the crown of her head and eliciting an involuntary shiver.

A stale, briny stench permeated her nostrils. The deck before her lay barren, a chilling grayish-white expanse. The main mast, standing starkly at the ship’s center, bore a tattered canvas draped at an awkward angle. Each passing sea breeze caused the rotten fabric to writhe in a grotesque, half-dead posture, emitting soft ‘thump-thump’ sounds, reminiscent of a zombie’s labored sighs.

There was no sign of a soul, not even a scrap of debris.

There were no anticipated battle scars, no lingering scent of blood, nothing. Despite everyone’s certainty that this ship had seen activity, not a single trace of any past presence could be found.

To call it a ship felt misleading; a tomb would be a more fitting description.

“No one move rashly. First, we’ll sweep the upper deck!”

Sensing the unsettling atmosphere, Talia’s expression hardened. Her amber cat-eyes sharpened, meticulously scouring every inch of the ghost ship’s deck.

Saranya drew the longsword from her back, her grip firm on the familiar hilt of her old companion. She kicked aside a coil of scattered rope, quickly joining Talia. Together, they formed the vanguard of the ghost ship’s exploration.

“Pshh-pshh~”

With a low, sharp whistle, reminiscent of a serpent’s hiss, Talia summoned two burly, broad-shouldered sailors with weathered faces. They positioned themselves on either side, guarding their flanks.

Saranya swept the deck with her team. Just as she had anticipated, it was utterly barren.

While they explored, the sailors on the *Monster* deftly unfurled the sails of both vessels. The two ships then settled into a stable position, drifting silently on the eerily still waters.

It was time.

Saranya twirled her longsword.

“Shall we go in?”

“Mhm.”

Talia nodded, accepting her proposal.

Their gazes simultaneously settled on the entrance to the lower deck: a tightly sealed black wooden door. It perfectly embodied the archetypal dungeon entrance from adventure tales, almost beckoning them with a silent “Enter quickly.”

Reaching the door, Saranya extended a hand to push, but the entrance was firmly blocked from within; it wouldn’t budge.

Then, it was time for a close-quarters breach.

She exchanged a knowing glance with Talia. The female sailor instantly understood, shifting her scimitar to a reverse grip in her left hand, holding it defensively before her. Her right hand, in a standard grip, braced her weapon against the doorframe, ready.

Pleased by their unspoken coordination, Saranya took two steps back, then subtly flicked her sword tip, signaling “ready” to Talia once more.

Receiving the signal, the female sailor licked her dry lips, a faint smile — a blend of excitement and intense focus — gracing her features. Her body subtly leaned forward, lowering her center of gravity, her tanned skin taut with anticipation.

Saranya inhaled deeply, positioning her longsword at her side. Her left leg stepped forward, steady and firm, her entire body coiling like a fully drawn war bow. With a powerful thrust from her right leg, she twisted her waist and hips, executing a spinning flying kick. Her boot heel slammed with devastating force against the door panel before them!

A deafening *CRASH!*

The door panel splintered into several pieces, immediately torn from its hinges by a powerful gust from within and swept off the deck. Talia, positioned at the door’s side, neither flinched nor dodged. She simply swung an arm to deflect the flying wooden fragments, then lunged forward, breaching the cabin as the lead operative.

Saranya rebounded a few steps to absorb the impact, then swiftly followed Talia into the cabin. Two more sailors brought up the rear, and in an instant, all four figures vanished into the profound darkness beyond the shattered doorway.