The purple crystal spear expanded rapidly in midair, like a bolt of thunder splitting the sea in two.
The sheer might of the lightning was enough to stir the most primal fear of nature in every living thing.
The spear stood upright above the waves, arcs of violet lightning rippling outward in concentric circles across the surface.
Fine sparks crackled around the crystal spear, and from its midsection stretched a vivid purple chain that connected all the way back to Maple Syrup's right hand. It coiled around her wrist several times before branching off, linking to each of her four teammates.
She gripped the thunder chain with her right hand and clutched the ship tight with her left.
The chain pulled taut in an instant.
With the buzzing of lightning, Maple Syrup's roar, and the groaning wood of the ship under strain, their vessel screeched to a halt—barely fifty meters from the goal hole.
