The clash of power between Elisa and Valerius had been a blinding spectacle, a desperate dance of contrasting mana. But the moment of triumph was short-lived, for a new, far more terrifying force had entered the fray. The Dark Aetherium Master, a figure shrouded in shadow, watched Elisa's desperate act with cold, amused eyes. He was not a brute like Valerius. He was a master of his craft, a genius of corruption, and a being of a terrifying power that defied the laws of nature.
He was a Transformation Six Mage, a level of power that Elisa, a Transformation Four Mage, could not even begin to comprehend.
He did not rush. He simply raised his hand, and the shadows on the deck of the flagship seemed to writhe and reach out, coiling around Elisa. She tried to fight back, her mana flaring, but it was useless. The shadows were not just a spell; they were a living, breathing thing, a parasitic force that drained her mana and sapped her will. She fell to her knees, her staff clattering to the deck, her body wracked with a pain that went beyond the physical.
"You have spirit, little princess," the Dark Aetherium Master said, his voice a low, chilling whisper that seemed to echo from the deepest abyss. "But spirit is no match for power. Your kind of magic is a pretty little dance. Mine… mine is the final word."
On the Stormbreaker, David felt Elisa's mana signature flicker and fade, a distant light being snuffed out. His heart seized with a cold dread. He had just defeated two Transformation Four Dragon Turtles, a monumental feat, but he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that he could not face a Transformation Six Mage. This was a battle they could not win. This was not a moment for heroics; it was a moment for survival.
"Rourke!" he yelled, his voice strained with a desperate urgency. "We have to go! Now! We can't fight them!"
Rourke, a Transformation Five Mage with a well-earned reputation for his mastery of the seas, did not hesitate. He had seen the raw power of the Dark Aetherium Master, a power that even his own formidable path would struggle to counter. He was a madman, but he was not a fool. He was a survivor.
"To the deepest part of the maze!" Rourke bellowed to his crew, his voice a raw, urgent command. "Unfurl the spectral sails! We go where no one can follow!"
The crew, a mix of hardened sailors and magical mercenaries, moved with a well-practiced, silent efficiency. The Stormbreaker was not just a ship; it was a living, breathing thing that responded to its master's will. They began to unfurl the spectral sails, which were not made of canvas, but of woven mana-infused light, a magic that was as ancient and as mysterious as Rourke himself.
On the enemy's ship, Valerius, his face a mask of furious triumph, walked towards the fallen Elisa. He raised his sword, its dark blade humming with a malevolent energy. "So much for your grand escape, Princess. Your little savior has abandoned you. The throne will soon be mine, and you will be nothing more than a footnote in my rise to power."
But just as he was about to strike, a sudden tremor ran through the air. David, on the deck of the Stormbreaker, was doing something that even Rourke had never seen before. He was channeling his mana, but he wasn't casting a spell. He was creating a massive, telekinetic pull, using his Fortress Master path not to build, but to move. He was trying to pull the Stormbreaker towards the heart of the Sunken Isles with a raw, desperate power that defied all logic.
The Stormbreaker began to lurch forward, its hull groaning in protest. It was an act of pure will, a raw display of David's newfound Transformation Four strength. The ship shot forward with an impossible speed, leaving the rest of the fleet in its wake.
The Dark Aetherium Master, who had been watching with detached amusement, finally showed a flicker of emotion. "He is not running," he whispered, a strange, terrible grin spreading across his face. "He is pulling. He is trying to change the very currents of the sea. What a fascinating little thing."
He did not give chase. He did not need to. He simply raised his hand, and a portal of shimmering, black energy opened up in front of him. He was a master of corruption, and he could open a portal to any place that held a piece of his essence. And he had just sensed David's mana, a piece of his purified corruption, a single, glowing droplet of aether that he had unknowingly created during his duel with Valerius.
He looked at Valerius, who was still fuming with rage at the ship's escape. "Do not fret, little prince. The boy has shown me a new game. He thinks he can hide in the depths of the Sunken Isles? He is a fool. For he has now given me the key to finding him. He has left a trail of breadcrumbs for me to follow."
With a flick of his wrist, he opened a similar portal right in front of the Stormbreaker. "Let's see if he can outrun a shadow," he said, his voice a low, menacing whisper.
The portal shimmered, and a dark, malevolent creature, a Transformation Five beast of pure shadow, a Shadow Hound, emerged from it, its eyes burning with a cold, malevolent fire. It was a beast of pure corruption, a hunter from the demon realm, a creature that could track a soul across the very fabric of reality.
On the deck of the Stormbreaker, David felt a chill run down his spine. The creature was not of this world. It was a predator from the deepest abyss, and its sole purpose was to hunt. He was a Transformation Four Multitalent, but he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that he could not fight a Transformation Five beast that could not be touched or harmed by physical means. This was a battle he could not win.
"He's not fighting us!" Rourke yelled, his voice raw with a sudden, terrible realization. "He's not fighting the ship! He's fighting you, David!"
The Shadow Hound lunged, its shadowy claws reaching for David. David, with a desperate burst of mana, created a shield, but the hound simply phased through it, a ghost made of pure darkness. David knew he was a dead man.
But just as the hound was about to strike, a figure, a Transformation Three Knight, a master of the sword, a silent guardian of the Citadel of Swords, appeared on the deck. He was a man with a weathered, scarred face, and a sword that gleamed with a pure, white light. He was a master of his craft, a man who had faced a thousand demons, and he was here for one reason.
He had been sent by the Knights' Guild to investigate the unholy alliance of Valerius and the Dark Aetherium Master. And he had just found a man who was the key to their defeat. He would not let him die.
"Stand back, young master," the Knight said, his voice a low, confident rumble. "This creature is not for you. This creature… is a job for me."
He raised his sword, and with a single, elegant movement, he bisected the Shadow Hound. The beast, a creature of pure darkness, was split in two, its body crumbling into dust, its soul vanishing into the ether.
David, who had been a silent witness to the entire exchange, stared at the Knight in stunned disbelief. He had just seen a Transformation Three Knight defeat a Transformation Five beast. It was an impossible feat, a testament to the Knight's pure skill, a reminder that raw power was nothing without a master's touch.
The Knight, his face a mask of grim determination, looked at David. "We need to talk," he said, his voice cold and firm. "You have a power that should not exist. And you are being hunted by a man who is making a deal with the devil. We are on the same side, for now. But I need to know one thing. Why?"
David looked at Elisa, who was still unconscious, her body wracked with pain. He looked at Rourke, who was staring at the Knight with a mixture of fear and awe. He had a choice. He could trust this man, or he could fight him.
He had no choice. He had to trust him.
"I am a Multitalent," David said, his voice a low, firm whisper. "My path is a gift from the heavens. But it is also a curse. And I am being hunted by a man who will stop at nothing to possess it."
The Knight looked at him, and for the first time, a look of understanding crossed his face. "I know," he said, his voice soft. "My name is Sir Kael. And I am here to help you."
He turned, his eyes fixed on the distant fleet. "They will be back," he said, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "They will not rest. We have to go. Now."
The Stormbreaker, now with a new ally, a new hope, sailed into the heart of the Sunken Isles, leaving the corrupted fleet behind. The journey was not over. It had just begun. And in the heart of the maze, a new, far more dangerous game was about to be played.