The creaking wooden steps led the pirate below the deck, balancing a plate of stale bread and a cup of water. The ship’s cell was a dank, cramped space, lit dimly by a flickering lantern. Approaching the prisoner, the pirate noticed the man’s parched lips and sunken eyes, a clear sign of severe dehydration. "Please," the prisoner croaked, "let out. I’m dying."
The pirate’s brows furrowed, a mix of confusion and concern sweeping over his face. He’d only been in the cell a day, yet his condition had deteriorated rapidly. As the pirate stood there, uncertain, the thud of heavy footsteps echoed behind him. The vice-captain of the Silver Eye Pirates erged—a towering giant, easily seven feet tall, his presence alone commanding respect and fear.
"What’s going on here?" the giant’s voice bood, causing the pirate to step aside. With one swift motion, the giant unlocked the cell, his large hands carefully examining the prisoner. "He’s on the brink of death," he muttered, a note of suspicion lacing his tone. "Soone must have infiltrated our ship and extracted information from him."
With a nod, the giant, whose form began to shimr and shrink, transford into a small, stout dwarf. He scurried off to inform Captain Silver Eye of the situation. The captain, a man whose eyes glead with an eerie silver hue, listened intently. "This is the work of Isadora Nightkiss," he declared. "She must be after the Half-Angel as well."
"What’s our move, Captain?" the vice-captain inquired, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and admiration for Isadora’s audacity.
Captain Silver Eye’s gaze hardened, his silver eyes flashing with anger. "That vixen dares to infiltrate our ship and dispose of our prisoner. The Federation has been looking for her, yes? Let’s tip them off—tell them she’s heading to Rich Berg Island to rob."
"And what about the White rchant Group?" the vice-captain pressed.
"Rich Berg Island," the captain repeated, his tone leaving no room for further questioning. The vice-captain nodded, understanding the captain’s unsaid words.
┉┈ ◈ ◉ ◈ ┈┉
Three weeks had passed since Astrid boarded Tyler’s ship. The ship cut through the waters, its sails billowing in the wind. Inside, life bustled as usual. Lily Gos sat in a corner, engrossed in her studies. Nearby, Astrid guided Silvia through the intricacies of magecraft, while Mana ticulously tallied the ship’s supplies. Mathilda, imrsed in her alchemical experints, humd cheerfully, knowing she had an endless supply of ingredients thanks to Tyler and Mana’s magical capabilities.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sea in shades of orange and pink, a small boat approached the ship, bobbing gently in the waves. A single lantern flickered at its bow, revealing a figure rowing steadily. The person wore a cowboy hat, a short leather jacket, and even shorter shorts, their tanned skin glowing under the moonlight. This was Isadora Nightkiss, the infamous "Manhunter."
"So, the Half-Angel is aboard that ship," she murmured to herself, her lips curling into a smirk. As she drew nearer, her senses tingled—there was a formidable presence on the ship. "At least one Master Level Warrior or Mage," she noted, her confidence unshaken. "I’ve handled worse."
With the grace of a shadow, Isadora leaped aboard the ship. The night was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the ship’s timbers and the gentle lapping of waves. She moved stealthily, her eyes scanning the deck for any signs of activity. A few crew mbers patrolled the ship, their footsteps echoing in the silence. Isadora knew she had to be careful to avoid detection.
Slipping into the shadows, she made her way toward the staterooms. Her target, Astrid, was sowhere within the maze of cabins. She approached a lone sailor, her eyes glinting mischievously. With a seductive smile, she sauntered up to him, her fingers lightly tracing his chest.
"Hello there," she purred, her voice dripping with charm. The sailor’s breath hitched, his eyes glazing over as he fell under her spell.
"Where is this girl?" Isadora whispered, holding up a small picture of Astrid.
The sailor, his mind clouded, pointed toward the lower cabins. "She’s in cabin number 14," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
Isadora’s smile widened. "Thank you," she cooed, stepping back. The sailor, his lips parched, stumbled forward, desperate to kiss her. But Isadora held up a hand, her expression turning to one of mock disappointnt.
"Your energy is too low for to enjoy," she sighed. "Go hydrate yourself."
The sailor, now feeling an overwhelming thirst, turned and staggered toward the ship’s railing. "Water... I need water," he mumbled, his voice hoarse.
"There are a lot in the sea." Like a devil whisper he heard that.
"Right right." The man quickly crawled towards the sea.
"Help ... Save .. I want to drink water. I want to kiss her." The man mumbled as he crawled on the ship.
Isadora chuckled softly as the sailor collapsed, his strength drained. "One down," she muttered, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. As she moved to incapacitate the rest of the crew, a voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Oh I should also knock everyone here down." She mumbled.
"Oh, how do you plan on doing that?" the voice asked, a hint of amusent in its tone.
"Of course by using my powers- wait what?" Isadora whirled around, her guard up. A young woman sat on the stairs, her eyes bright and curious.
"Isadora Nightkiss," the woman said, her voice steady. "What brings you to our ship?"
Lily Gos smiled, her eyes fixed on the intruder.
Isadora’s eyes narrowed as she faced Lily, her body tense and ready to spring into action. "How did you find ?" she asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.
Before Lily could respond, Mana erged from behind her, hovering in the air with a massive pillow that dwarfed her petite fra. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and let out a cute yawn, seemingly unfazed by the tension in the air.
"That little girl is a Ghost Spirit," Isadora muttered in surprise. She thought that this Ghost Spirit, with her unique abilities, must have sensed the disruption among the ship’s crew.
She was half right. Mana doesn’t have any unique ability but she has soul contracts of slaves on board, instantly alerted when one of them fell under Isadora’s attack. Without delay, she had alerted Lily of the intruder’s presence.
"Well, well, well," Mana said, her voice light yet tinged with a warning. "If you’re planning to fight, do be careful not to damage the ship. Our captain won’t be pleased."
With that, Mana vanished, leaving Isadora to ponder her next move. "I’m not in the mood for a fight right now," Isadora confessed, her gaze darting around the deck, wary of the ship’s defences. She knew better than to underestimate the number of Master Level warriors or mages on board. She doesn’t know that Lily Gos is the only Master Level Warrior on the ship. Deciding that a strategic retreat was the best option, she began to back away.
"Who said you could leave?" Lily retorted, her form blurring as she appeared right next to Isadora. Her hands reached out with a teasing gesture, fingers poised as if to grab Isadora by the chest.
"Pervert!" Isadora exclaid, her body instinctively flipping backward, her movents fluid and graceful. She landed deftly on her feet, smirking at Lily’s audacity.
"Tsk... I almost caught her," Lily grumbled, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Molested her, you an," Mana interjected, reappearing behind Lily with a mischievous grin.
"Tsk, tsk... bring a sword," Lily demanded, her sword destroyed when fighting a Sea Titan.
"Aye, aye... but she’s making a run for it," Mana pointed out, her gaze following Isadora’s retreating form.
"You can’t escape," Lily declared, lunging forward. But just as she was about to close the distance, the dehydrated slave stumbled between them, his weakened body collapsing in their path.
Lily was forced to halt her pursuit, her eyes flicking between the fallen man and the shadowy waters beyond the ship. In the blink of an eye, Isadora had vanished into the dark expanse of the sea, her departure as silent as her arrival.
Tyler erged from the shadows, his brow furrowed with concern. "Why didn’t you guys let handle her?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and annoyance.
Lily turned to face him, her expression calm but firm. "Because she’s called the ’Manhunter,’ and you, Tyler, happen to be a man."
Tyler sighed, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "That’s a pretty la reason, don’t you think?"
Lily shrugged, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Better safe than sorry."
Tyler glanced around the deck, his gaze settling on the disoriented sailor who was still mumbling and crawling towards the railings in a desperate search for water. "Did you find out why she was here?" he asked.
Lily nodded towards the sailor. "That’s easy. Let’s help him recover and then ask him."
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