A Sister’s Fury

“Whimper… woof woof woof… help… whimper~”

Saranya’s sword thrust pierced the dog-human’s belly. The creature let out a trembling wail, its cries finally giving way to fragmented human words in its dying moments.

Even with one creature dispatched, Saranya’s concern for the female sailor remained. “Talia!” she cried.

On the other side, Talia, wielding twin scimitars, unleashed a swift and ferocious assault. Before Saranya could even intervene, the sailor had already felled one dog-human. Yet, she was instantly tackled to the ground by a third, Westir, initiating a stubborn close-quarters struggle where she held her own.

Of course, Talia’s ability to swiftly wound her numerous adversaries came at a significant cost.

A deep bite wound marred the sailor’s shoulder blade, from which damp, hot steam billowed. Blood spread and splattered, staining her entire upper body a dark crimson.

To avoid inflicting further harm upon Westir, Saranya lowered her longsword. Instead, she swung her leg, delivering a forceful kick to Westir’s jaw with her leather boot.

“Whimper! Whimper—~” Westir whimpered, its scarlet eyes rolling as they locked onto Saranya’s face. Agony flickered in its pupils, mingled with an infinitely insane desire.

“Sa…! Ra…! Nya…!” Westir suddenly surged forward, as if injected with adrenaline, breaking free from Talia’s grasp and lunging directly at Saranya!

“You bastard…” Saranya instinctively moved to raise her sword in defense, but her reason held her back.

‘No, I can’t use my sword,’ she thought. She couldn’t bear the thought of Paresha losing her brother.

Overcoming a fleeting moment of hesitation, Saranya cast aside her longsword. She raised her hands to shield herself, intending to subdue Westir using grappling techniques.

Bare-handed, she was effectively wrestling a mad dog, one immune to pain and utterly fearless, a creature on par with her own strength. She understood the inherent risks, yet she was prepared to face them.

That girl, Paresha, hadn’t blamed her or Kaelan for her family’s tragic fate, which in itself was remarkably noble. Paresha was truly a good child.

That good child would risk her life for Saranya, venturing deep into the desolate zones outside. To remain by her side, Paresha had sacrificed her body and dignity, willing to be at her and Kaelan’s beck and call. Even worse, due to Saranya’s own base, mad, filthy, and irrational jealousy, that child could be murdered by her at any moment.

Compared to everything Paresha had done for her, this small risk was utterly insignificant. Whether considered compensation or repayment, at the very least, she had to do something for Paresha.

“I’ll take you back! Westir, let me take you back! I’ll reunite you with your sister!!”

Westir had been domesticated to an extreme degree; its brain could barely comprehend anything beyond its master’s commands and physical signals. Having completely lost its ability to speak, it naturally couldn’t understand Saranya’s words.

The dog-human lunged, its gaping maw revealing crimson gums bared at Saranya. A long, filthy, orange-red tongue snaked out, splattering foul-smelling saliva onto Saranya’s collar.

Saranya acted decisively, clamping Westir’s muzzle shut with an iron grip.

The dog-human’s mouth was filled with crooked, artificial iron teeth, which immediately emitted a “clack-clack” grinding sound as she pressed down.

‘No, this isn’t right…’ she thought. ‘My strength isn’t enough!’

“Hngh! Eeyaaah—” Westir, seemingly utterly heedless of its own life, slammed her to the ground. Streaks of blood seeped from the sides of its mouth, dripping onto her clean jaw. Its scorching breath fanned repeatedly against her cheeks, while its mouth, full of pointed fangs, drew ever closer to her neck.

Westir’s heart was consumed by a primal craving for her flesh. Perhaps in the dog-human’s devolved brain, all its former sentiments—friendship, admiration, affection, and desire—had long since become a chaotic jumble. In this endless chaos and madness, Westir had transformed all these complex emotions into nothing but insatiable appetite.

“Hey!” Talia’s raspy voice cut through the struggle. Saranya instantly felt the pressure abate, and with both hands, she forcefully clamped the dog-human’s mouth shut. Only then did she manage to look up and glance toward Talia.

“What are you looking at me for?! Fight him!!!” the female sailor roared at Saranya. Despite her gruesome shoulder injury, Talia was desperately tugging at Westir’s hind legs, all while unleashing a storm of furious kicks upon the dog-human’s knee joints.

Saranya abandoned all other concerns. Twisting her hips on the ground, she forced Westir’s jaw up and violently smashed its head against the nearby bulkhead.

After two resounding “clangs,” Westir’s eyes rolled back. Its furry body began to convulse violently, and it lost all capacity for combat.

“Clang.” Hearing the sound of a scimitar clattering to the deck, Saranya frantically turned her head.

By the time her gaze landed, Talia was already on the ground.

Talia lay prone on the cold deck, an ice blade embedded in her back, its blood-stained tip protruding between her breasts.

‘Yes… yes, that’s right,’ she thought. She should have known. Just dealing with the lesser enemies had pushed them to their limits; how could Mejga possibly stand by and wait for them to finish?

Talia’s face was etched with astonishment, her pupils constricting to pinpricks from the intense pain before rapidly dilating once more.

“Talia…” The female sailor was consumed by fear and agony, beginning to gasp violently. Yet, her chest did not rise and fall with her breaths. Instead, it emitted a continuous, turbid, wet buzzing sound, like a dilapidated bellows.

“TALIA!!!” Saranya roared, and a furious cloud of ice dust suddenly billowed around her.

She didn’t even realize she had moved; she merely acted on instinct, unleashing a brutal cold current towards Mejga.

A cold current, moving in the opposite direction, immediately met hers. Countless tiny ice crystals collided in the air, creating a chorus of shattering sounds. Amidst it all, Mejga’s ghostly voice drifted eerily.

“Sister, no one will disturb us ever again…”

“You! An! Im! Mal! Brother!” Saranya roared, tears streaming down her face. Even her glistening tears seemed to transform into weapons, striking at the enemy before her.

Bathed in the surging ice currents, she raised both arms high, conjuring a volley of ice spears above her head before hurling them like a rainstorm towards Mejga.

Seeing her simultaneously unleash two spells with such ferocious intensity, Mejga’s expression subtly shifted. He waved a hand, weakening his own cold current, and instead manipulated ice blades to shield his body, intercepting the ice spears that assailed him.

The siblings’ magic shared the same origin and element; even their casting methods were remarkably similar.

Mejga’s technique was more practiced, his attacks more precise. In stark contrast, Saranya was merely venting her rage, her control over her magic significantly inferior to Mejga’s.

Yet, Saranya could summon even vaster magical energy, continuously overwhelming Mejga and preventing him from gaining the upper hand!

The ice spears pierced through the ship’s hull, leaving gaping holes in the wooden planks. Surging seawater instantly poured into the cabin, splashing pale red foam around their feet.

Under the relentless magical clash, the surrounding bulkheads and deck planks gradually turned frosty white. Jagged, wave-like solid ice soon covered the entire cabin.

“You are mine, sister… no one can take you away!! You can only be mine!!!”

“Die!! Just die!!!”

Finally, the ship’s hull, unable to bear the immense strain, let out a hoarse shriek. A chilling, bone-piercing black chasm suddenly ripped open beneath their feet.