A short while later, Cane removed his boots and socks, standing barefoot on the dock as he studied the ship they'd been constructing for weeks.
Dhalia approached, blueprint in hand.
"What's on the docket for today?" she asked brightly.
"Captain's quarters, two VIP cabins, and then the ship's deck."
Cane smiled.
"Let's try not to mess this up."
Dhalia laughed, following him up.
"I'm just holding the blueprints. My job's easy."
"Yeah?
Then why is it upside down every time I look at it?"
Dhalia blinked—and then blushed.
"What? No, it hasn't…"
"Think about it." Cane kept a straight face.
"You glance down, it looks right... but when you hold it up..."
He mimed flipping a sheet.
"Upside down."
Dhalia groaned, covering her face.
"Why didn't you tell me?!"
Cane fixed her with a serious look.
"Dhalia...
I'm kidding."
He burst out laughing, jumping onto the deck.
"You—! Cane! Just you wait, Mister!" she shouted, chasing after him as the rest of the class gathered, buzzing with excitement.
Most of them would be doing manual labor, but no one cared.
They were building something extraordinary.
Brammel grabbed a sheet of tungtanium himself, yelling to the others.
"Let's go, lads! Hoist it up!"
As starlight bloomed overhead, Cane sank effortlessly into the metal.
The world shifted—streaming with mana, flooded with light.
He moved without hesitation: bending walls into place, carving doorways, shaping rooms.
Cane stood in the center of it all, immersed in a symphony only he could hear.
Unseen pathways revealed themselves.
Secrets whispered in the flow of magic.
The ship grew before them—rails rising, decks spreading out underfoot—as fast as the cadets could lay sheets down, he melded them into one seamless body.
Brammel watched, open-mouthed as always.
"No matter how many times I see it…"
Selene stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes bright.
"It really is a ship."
"Aye," Brammel agreed, awed despite himself, watching Cane quietly walk the deck—
Raising slight ridges along the surface, ensuring it would have traction even in storms.
When Cane finally stopped, the students went still, looking at him expectantly.
"The RED rail remains," Cane said, voice steady.
"But I'll finish that in the metallurgy shop.
The mast is being handled by the Archmage.
And we'll do the keel once we're ready to move her to the bay."
Selene clapped her hands lightly, getting the class's attention.
"Let's call it a short day."
A cheer went up from the students.
Brammel scowled.
"That's for them," he growled.
"You lot are coming back to the shop with me and Cane."
Cane chuckled, jumping lightly to the dock as the starlight faded.
"How's the net-gun coming?" he asked Brammel.
The dwarf grinned wide.
"You gotta see it.
I created an encased shell big enough for the netting.
Had to make a few adjustments."
"What about the breach loading?"
Brammel nodded.
"Not hard. We just built on the Main Gun design. Breach breaks open, shooter feeds another round in."
Cane tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Will it still take a standard round?"
Brammel shook his head grimly.
"No. The net fills most of the cartridge.
Take it out, shove a standard shot in there—and the barrel would explode. Break both your arms."
Cane winced.
"Alright. Could we alter a regular blunderbuss to breach-load smaller shells?"
Brammel nodded again.
"Yeah. Child's play. We can even reinforce the barrel a bit."
"Later.
Let's finish the net-gun first."
Cane paused mid-sentence as the announcements began overhead.
Good morning everyone! This is Sophie Sweetwater, coming to you live from Sun Tower.
On the war front:
The Terror Legion has begun moving forward across the western lands.
This new push has many wondering if a fresh front is forming—one that would bring the battles closer than ever, with only the Rhabis Sea separating us from conflict.
On the naval front:
The Zuni Empire has pulled all ships back from the Eastern seas, regrouping after suffering several major defeats.
Sophie's voice softened as she continued, listing birthdays, local events, and even mentioning her parents' caravan.
This is Sophie Sweetwater, reminding you: if you see someone today without a smile, give them yours.
I'll see everyone back here for the afternoon announcements.
Have a sunny day!
Starlight erupted in the metallurgy shop as Cane worked, forming three-meter tubes of tungtanium with practiced ease.
After crafting a few spares, he carefully fed a single coil of platinum wire down the center of each.
Brammel shook his head in wonder.
"We'll carry the lot down to the harbor. You can connect the coils and pump the oil inside there.
That'll be one big RED."
"Want to finish it now?" Cane asked, flexing his fingers.
Brammel shook his head.
"No... Save it for tomorrow.
Today—we test the net-gun."
Cane tapped his psi-rune.
Cane: Gonna test the net-gun.
Clara: Am I the shooter??
Fergis: No, I am.
Clara: Who's gonna throw fire if you're shooting??
Fergis: You.
Dhalia: Meet at the stables?
Cane: Yeah.
"That's cute…" Dhalia bit her lip, trying not to laugh as Brammel appeared riding his scaled-down mount—a shaggy pony named Buttercup.
"Don't call Buttercup cute. He don't like it."
Brammel sat proudly in the saddle, ignoring the snickers.
Fergis did a double take as Cane led out his new war mount.
"The hell—Isn't that Regor's horse?"
"It was," Cane said easily, swinging into the massive saddle.
"Then it became payment to Jonas Ironfist for cutting Regor out of his own armor.
Now it's mine."
Clara whistled low.
"That thing is huge."
Brammel snorted.
"Buttercup can take him."
The group laughed as they rode out, leaving the academy at a relaxed trot—
shifting to an easy canter as they followed the coastline, the sea glittering to their left.
Brammel led the way, Buttercup setting a surprisingly fast pace beneath the thick canopy.
"Ever been through this part of the woodlands?"
Cane marveled at the dense woods, the fern-covered path barely wide enough for two horses.
"No... We always head north from the gate."
"You're missing out, lad. Slow down here—sheer bluff around the curve."
Brammel reined in Buttercup, shifting inside.
Around the bend, the ground fell away sharply—a sheer three-hundred-foot drop into a raging river below.
Brammel pointed ahead.
"Look there."
In the distance, two young gryphons circled, screeching playfully as they danced in the sky.
"Beautiful," Cane smiled, stopping a few meters from the edge.
"Indeed." Brammel placed a meaty hand on the pommel of his saddle.
"They've just left the nest. They'll stay together a year or two yet."
Cane frowned suddenly, instincts prickling.
"Brammel…"
The dwarf nodded, already swinging an axe into hand.
"Something's close. Feels dark. We should turn back."
A chill laugh rode the wind.
A small rift tore open—and for a moment, a figure stood there.
A black cloak flowed like liquid shadow. No clear face. No clear gender.
Just black eyes locking onto Cane.
"Terror…" Brammel spat, armor clapping onto his form in a flash.
"You're on Academy lands, spawn."
The creature absorbed the light around it, drifting like a phantom.
"I'm not here to fight... only to deliver a message."
Brammel tossed the net-gun to Clara.
"What message?"
The Terror's voice oozed mockery.
"Death comes for us all."
It smiled thinly.
"And it's not even my fault this time."
The air twisted—
—and something else stepped into view.
Humanoid. Black wings. Venom-dripping blades in each hand.
Its taloned feet barely touched the ground.
Clara: What the hell is that thing?
Cane dismounted.
"Fighting on the ledge would be stupid."
Brammel slid down too, launching a distress flare into the air.
"Aye."
The winged creature screeched, lifting on slow, predatory wingbeats.
Cane gripped Starbolt—and starlight exploded overhead.
The creature hesitated, fear flashing in its intelligent eyes.
HOOOACH!
Pudding's cry sliced the air—distracting the beast—
—and Cane's trident lashed forward, scoring a deep wound in its side.
SCREEEEEE!
The creature lunged, blades flashing.
Brammel absorbed a heavy strike, his axe already swinging in return.
Cane:Ice wall! Fergis, burn it!
Frost shrieked to life—an Ice Gryphon spirit answering Dhalia's call.
FLASHFIRE!
Fergis's flames erupted in the creature's face.
BOOM!
Clara's net-gun fired, steel strands wrapping its lower half and one arm.
A black disc materialized in its hand—swirling.
Brammel's face darkened.
"A summoning disc! Smash it before it calls more!"
Cane charged, shield raised—
but when he struck the disc, an explosion of corrupt mana hurled him backwards, sliding toward the cliff's edge.
Clara dove, catching his foot at the last second, dragging him to safety.
Blood trickled from Cane's mouth. He grimaced.
"Careful. The disc can't be broken."
Fire blossomed again—Fergis's barrage driving the beast back.
Brammel cursed.
"You four! Retreat—!"
"No." Cane surged forward.
He hurled Starstrike like a spear—embedding it in the creature's chest.
Then Cane did the unthinkable:
He reached out—barehanded—and touched the disc.
Darkness slammed into him—
—the taste of death, the hunger of ancient nightmares—
—but Cane gritted his teeth and stood.
"No," he whispered, starlight bursting from his chest.
Music.
Sophie's laugh. His mother's voice.
The rhythm of hammer and anvil.
The darkness recoiled.
"The opposite of dark... is light.
I'll show you the stars."
The disc screamed as Cane purified it, burning the corruption away.
The winged beast howled—smoke pouring from its body.
Above them, the two young gryphons dove—
tearing with beak and claw before banking away.
BALEFIRE.
Fergis's white flame burned through the creature, blasting it closer to the ledge.
Brammel saw his chance—his axe flashing—
—and cleaved the creature's head clean off.
It stood for a moment longer—blades still raised—
before collapsing like a broken puppet.
Cane staggered, Clara pulling him further from the cliff's edge.
The disc disintegrated into light.
Brammel finished it, his axe biting deep one last time.
Breathing hard, Cane turned to his team.
"Everyone okay?"
"Yeah." Clara nodded. "What was that thing?"
Telamon and Ignasius arrived through a rift, surveying the scene grimly.
"A Strix," Telamon said, retrieving the soul gem from the ashes.
"A level nine summoner. Abomination-class.
Well done."
Ignasius retrieved the ruined blades, dropping them beside the rocks.
Brammel grinned fiercely. "With a little help from above."
Cane smiled weakly—glancing up at the young gryphons still circling overhead.