Numb

“You’re John Newman, of course. I was waiting for a chance to take out the pirates without harming any bystanders. You found your way into that anyway so… good job,” Shelle said, and as she turned back to the bar, John took the opportunity to use Advanced Spy on her.

“You’re going to be shadowing us, seeing how we conduct ourselves during missions and learn from example,” Shelle explained, turning toward the harbor beside them. “With you here early, we can get a head start. How are you doing? You don’t appear injured.”

“That’s a quirk of my abilities… I’m kind of at the end of my rope already,” John gasped, staggering to his knees. She pointed both hands at him, a golden light gathering in them as she uttered hushed, melodic words. After a few moments, his health and mana restored to full, though her mana went down by three thousand.

“Ready to go?” she asked, offering a hand helping him to his feet. Wordlessly, a tendril of wind grabbed his hat and blew it back onto his head.

“Yes, but shouldn’t I meet the other members of the team first?” John asked, following after Shelle as she began walking. They strolled past a multitude of ships, some were wooden and used sails, others were metal and billowed smoke.

“Lance is already on the ship. Boathaen is around here somewhere, she won’t miss our departure,” Shelle said, hurrying along the docks. They stopped at the end, in front of a wooden caravel. The rigging unfurled itself, the sails billowing open of their own accord. The helm stood at the back of the ship on an elevated platform that housed the captain’s quarters based on the sign, and the bow was similarly elevated.

“It’s fully enchanted alright,” a man appeared in front of Shelle and John in the blink of an eye, addressing the mage, “just sit back and relax. Strongest wind enchantment I’ve ever seen on the sails. We can focus on protecting the ship.”

The man zipped off again, though John backed out of Shelle’s periphery and used Advanced Spy on him as he turned to go. Holy shit, they're all monsters.

“Indeed,” a man appeared from a trapdoor in the middle of the ship, walking up the flight of stairs the wooden panels concealed, “you are to escort this vessel through the territory of the Shango pirates. The ship and the cargo must survive, and you are authorized by the Imperial Navy to use any **** necessary. We are to arrive by nightfall and return immediately. It is imperative that we deliver this backup generator to the research facility as quickly as possible; their old generator was damaged in a particularly long lightning storm.

“Oh! Oh! Dibs on the crow’s nest!” Lance appeared again, snatching a telescope from their contractor's hip and racing up the ladder to be their lookout.

“As this vessel operates mostly on its own, its crew consists of the cook, the helmsman, the first mate, and the navigator-captain, yours truly. You are to protect the ship and cargo at all costs. Lunch will be served at midday, and supper at nightfall. You may have free reign of the ship until we arrive, though it was stipulated in the contract that one of you must be visibly present on the deck at all times… this one doesn’t count.” The apparent navigator looked at John with distaste, and though the gunman was going to keep a steady tongue, he swallowed his mental complaint when he pulled up the man’s sheet to learn that they were roughly the same level.

“Understood. Not to worry, Captain Ishigo, we are professionals. No matter the enemy, we assure you this ship will arrive at the research facility unharmed,” Shelle replied, shaking the captain’s hand. He stood in rather plain attire, a white shirt and black pants, though he had all manner of bronze and brass tools tied to his belt, a compass and a sextant, among other things. He snapped his fingers, and the ship lurched forward, climbing in speed far faster than any boat John had seen.

Though they sailed at incredible speeds through choppy waters, the ride was quite smooth. John leaned over the railing staring out at the sea, listening as Shelle, seated on the stairs, told him stories of The Magician. Even listening to her experience with him, John felt as though he was missing something. What gave him that drive? He’s not a champion like me, but he’s among the most powerful individuals in the Abyss, and he’s remained kind and optimistic. I don’t know if I can do that…

A couple hours into the voyage, a particularly violent wave washed over the side of the vessel; it would have knocked the ship on its side if not for Shelle stabilizing it. John was leaning on the railing of the ship and caught the brunt of it, a torrent of water crashing into him and knocking him into the air. Reorienting himself, he used the pocket of air from his boots to land safely in the Crow’s Nest.

“Oh hey, there’s an ocean hag down there.” A tendril of water wrapped around John’s neck, slamming him from the Crow’s Nest to the deck below. Lance shattered an icicle aimed at the hag’s chest midair, getting between the hag and Shelle. “This thing’s weak and it has its eyes on him! Let the kid have a chance.

“If you can beat this thing without using mana, I’ll let you use that scrying spell of yours on me.” Lance flashed John a confident thumbs up, severing the water tendril trapping him and sitting with Shelle on the ship’s railing to watch the fight.

John rolled aside as the water tendril struck again, leaping forward to punch the hag in the head. The water raced back, catching his fist and trying to snap his wrist. His free hand pulled out Ebony, firing through the tendril and freeing him. He front-flipped over another swipe, turning on his hands and attempting to kick the witch in the head.

More water rose from the sea below to catch his kick and pick him up by his foot. It prepared to fling him, but when he shot another volley at the hag, she was **** to let him go, more water pouring from the sea to protect her. It pooled into an enormous wave which sought to converge on him, the edges freezing into razor-sharp ice.

John leapt above it, firing another volley with his guns at the hag. What water she kept to defend herself barely caught the bullets, and John slammed down his foot onto her head. The witch shrieked in pain, attempting to bring more water in from the sea to her aid. Shelle, unwilling to just watch a comrade fight such a **** battle, blasted the excess water off the ship with a gust of air.

John backpedaled away, but the water caught his ankle again. This time, he felt the immense pressure of the ocean close in on his foot. It flipped him in the air, catching him by his foot again and slamming him into the captain’s quarters.

“This isn’t another one of your bets, is it?” Shelle asked, sparing Lance a sidelong glance as he intently watched the fight.

“You bet! I’ve never seen anything like this kid’s fighting style. Maybe in some movies…” Lance trailed off, watching as another full clip from each gun crashed into a protective wave.

“Ugh… John! Use your mana, that’s an order,” Shelle commanded, eyes following him as he landed on the railing above them, in front of the helm.

Lance begrudgingly gave another thumbs up, this one lukewarm. John unclipped his mask from his belt, glancing around to ensure everyone above deck saw him put it on. Luckily, all eyes were on him. He cracked his neck and knuckles, gazing down at the hag with renewed vigour. He Jumped forward; the hag withdrew all her water at his surprise appearance, setting another deluge upon him.

John, what would you like me to do? Cinder asked, staying inside of him as he dodged around the witch.

Stay hidden until I charge a Mana Bolt through both guns, you’ll know what to do. John used a dozen Jumps to disorient and distract the hag, each time landing glancing blows barely redirected by the water and leaving an Afterimage behind.

The hydromancer swiped uselessly at his illusions, and his mask’s mana sensor attachment flicked down of its own accord. The lens showed two bright spots opposite each other, directly in front of and behind her.

John began his **** anew, landing blow after blow on the water around her before Jumping behind her and landing a Fist worth a hundred mana. He felt her bones crack under his attack, and deliberately backpedaled instead of Jumping.

The hag commanded all her water forward toward him, and he drew his guns in a flash, charging a Mana Bolt worth three hundred through each and giving two hundred over to Cinder to assist her efforts.

The cowgirl appeared in a firestorm in front of him, meeting the hag’s tsunami with a blaze of her own, the water and fire clashing and colliding until naught but steam remained. The hag was already working more water in from the ocean, but it was too late, both Mana Bolts pierced her, and her body became seawater, running in rivulets back down the deck.