As Ryan finished off the undead paladin, Sulia's duel with Cylostra Direfin, the Terror of the Abyss, was also drawing to a close.
Without a doubt, Cylostra was a formidable abyssal sorceress, at the early stages of the Saint Realm. Her deep knowledge of abyssal magic gave her mastery over a variety of spells—summoning, support, and direct damage alike. This powerful combination had allowed her to terrorize the seas for years, with few rivals able to match her in her domain.
However, today was not her day. Sulia was her opponent, and the Lady of the Lake's chosen knight had been trained personally by the Emperor. Sulia's swordsmanship and strength had long surpassed what Cylostra could handle. Each of Sulia's strikes grew more potent, and while Cylostra initially managed to fend off Sulia's attacks through experience, she quickly found herself overwhelmed.
Worse, none of Cylostra's spells could affect Sulia. Whether it was direct damage or debuffs, all were nullified by the enchantments on Sulia's sword, Lyonace. After a few exchanges, Cylostra was forced to retreat, floating backward while trying to maintain her distance.
The battle raged on across the deck of the Seven Gill Eel. Bertrand, Davout, and the Old Guard were steadily advancing, cutting down wave after wave of undead, casting their foes into the sea to feed the fish. Meanwhile, Ryan had boarded another undead ship to fight there.
Sulia stood tall and resolute at the bow of the ghostly vessel, facing Cylostra who hovered in the air. The knight carefully observed her opponent's movements, gripping Lyonace tightly. The sacred blade, bestowed by the Lady herself, burned with golden flames, imbued with powerful anti-magic properties.
Earlier, Sulia had nearly wounded Cylostra severely with a series of quick sword strikes, stacking damage with her Tide Breaker technique. If Cylostra hadn't used her ghostly form to phase through solid matter and retreat, Sulia might have ended the fight already.
The determined knight adjusted her stance, her blue eyes glowing with psychic energy. She could feel a constant flow of warmth from the magical equipment and jewelry that empowered her. Focusing on the enemy, Sulia took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air as she stared down the cursed ghost singer. As Queen of Bretonnia, it was her duty to end this evil spirit's reign of terror and grant her the peace of death.
"Great Spell! Kraken's Grasp!" Cylostra raised her fan and ascended higher into the sky. The ocean responded, exploding with massive splashes as a dozen enormous tentacles emerged, each several meters thick, converging on Sulia from all directions. Every escape route was sealed, leaving Sulia with no clear path to dodge.
To make matters worse, Sulia had a deep-seated fear and disgust for slimy sea creatures like the kraken. She hesitated for a moment, and one of the foul tentacles, covered in suckers and dripping with mucus, shot past her head. Had it hit her directly, it might have knocked her into the sea, if not killed her outright.
Revulsed by the sticky texture of the tentacles, Sulia narrowly dodged, then immediately pulled back, focusing all her concentration. Gritting her teeth, she stepped back and swung Lyonace with incredible speed, slashing through the air so quickly that her movements became a blur. Dozens of golden sword slashes filled the air, severing every approaching tentacle.
"Shadow Parry!"
A series of sharp sounds echoed as the flames on Sulia's sword drove back the kraken's attack. Her flawless swordsmanship covered her from every angle, rendering Cylostra's ultimate spell useless. The ghostly diva, shocked that her strongest move had been neutralized, let out a high-pitched wail and began retreating even faster.
Sulia could tell that her opponent wanted to escape, but she was not about to let her prey slip away.
Lowering Lyonace, she gripped the hilt with both hands and raised the sword overhead. Her psychic energy surged, and the veil between the Warp and reality began to dissolve around her. In an instant, Sulia's voice became a radiant stream of golden light, aimed straight at Cylostra. Her speed transcended the limits of human ability, shocking even the ocean itself.
This was the Void Dance.
The first slash created a vortex in the air, disintegrating an entire squad of deep-sea guardians nearby.
The second strike swept through Cylostra's entourage of siren wraiths, the spectral beings exploding into dust as Lyonace's radiant arc cut them down.
The third strike, glowing with an ethereal brilliance, opened a dimensional rift, and in the blink of an eye, Sulia's blurred figure appeared right in front of Cylostra. The ghost singer barely had time to react as Sulia's blade sliced through her staff and crown, cutting both in half.
"No, no!" Cylostra panicked, flailing in desperation as she tried to flee by throwing herself into the sea, abandoning her ship in a last-ditch effort to escape Sulia's inevitable killing blow.
But Sulia didn't stop.
The fourth strike cleaved through Cylostra's body from head to waist, filling her with the purifying flames of Lyonace.
The fifth and final strike unleashed a massive gust of golden light, forming a cross-shaped mark on the ghostly diva's body. Holy energy began clashing violently with the cursed power inside her, causing her form to swell like a balloon.
As the battle reached its conclusion, Sulia materialized from the void, standing gracefully in mid-air, about ten meters above the ocean. She sheathed her sword with a satisfying click just as a massive explosion erupted behind her, sending a giant mushroom cloud of water skyward.
"In the Lady's name, Cylostra Direfin, former diva of Bordeleaux and terror of the seas, is no more!" Sulia's clear voice echoed across the battlefield. Her declaration was met with thunderous cheers and applause from the Bretonnians and the Ashen Legion alike. The chorus of praise filled Sulia with deep satisfaction.
The next moment, however, exhaustion overtook her. Having expended all her psychic energy to execute the Void Dance, Sulia felt her body go limp and began falling toward the ocean. But Ryan, riding on his griffon Impryl, caught her just in time. Cradling his wife in his arms, Ryan chided her gently, "Sulia, you're still not fully comfortable with that last step. You need to be careful with your landing."
"Darling…" Sulia looked up at him with a hint of frustration on her face. "Is there anything else?"
"Yes, there is. You did great." Ryan's expression softened into a proud smile. "You slayed the enemy commander. Well done, my queen."
"Mm!" Sulia finally heard the words she had been waiting for. Relaxing into his embrace, she allowed herself to rest.
With Cylostra's destruction, the Drowned Fleet lost its leader, and the remaining undead commanders ordered an immediate retreat.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Fugen brandished his Serpent God spear, Sotigo. The divine weapon, imbued with the stormy breath of the Serpent God, caused the sea drake to hesitate. Though the massive beast growled in defiance, it ultimately lowered its head and withdrew, diving back into the depths of the sea.
As debris and wreckage covered the surface of the ocean, the great naval battle finally came to an end.
Although it appeared to be a resounding victory for the human-High Elf alliance, the cost had been high. Teclis's Phoenix ship was heavily damaged and barely seaworthy, while Ryan's flagship, Landois, was riddled with holes. Only the Burning Scimitar, commanded by the Gold Wizard, had come out relatively unscathed.
After a brief discussion, the decision was made to tow Teclis's Phoenix ship behind Fugen's Saint Sophia, and the Landois would be towed by the Enterprise as the fleet continued its journey.
Later, Ryan mischievously gave full credit for the victory to his wife, Sulia, and no one objected. After all, it was Sulia who had defeated Cylostra, the Terror of the Abyss.
Everyone except Julius seemed somewhat unhappy. The brother-in-law couldn't help but grumble to himself. It was bad enough that he couldn't compete with Ryan, but now his sister was outperforming him too? Being an older brother was truly difficult.
With the battle over, the survivors tended to the wounded, rested, and prepared to set sail for Ulthuan as soon as possible. Ryan, Fugen, and the others gathered on the Enterprise for a strategy meeting.
"This feels like a trap," Ryan said, frowning as he sat around the table with Fugen, Sulia, Bertrand, Davout, Pirazzo, and Julius. "Brother, did you get that impression?"
"More than a trap, it felt like a planned assassination attempt on that High Elf Archmage," Fugen replied with his usual grace, showing no sign of the intense battle he had just fought. His silver hair cascaded perfectly over his shoulders as he stirred a small amount of sugar into his cup of Arabyan coffee. "The undead fleet seems to bear a grudge against the elves, and from what we've seen, the Dark Elves have allied with them."
"No wonder the High Elves sought our help. From what I saw today,
their dominance over the seas is all but gone," mused Fernando Pirazzo, the Ashen Legion's second-in-command. "If not for Teclis's exceptional abilities, the High Elves would've suffered a humiliating defeat. It almost feels like they used us to drag us into their war with the undead and the Druchii."
Everyone nodded in agreement. It was an unspoken understanding that the blame for this situation would fall on the High Elves.
"But while it's normal for the Dark Elves and High Elves to have a blood feud, what could the undead possibly have against the High Elves?" Julius asked, his mood sour. He had been knocked into the sea during the fight when the sea drake's tail swept across the battlefield, and only got back aboard near the end of the battle—just in time to see his sister perform an incredible feat of swordsmanship and slay the ghostly diva. The pressure of being an older brother was overwhelming.
"That's not the important issue," Fugen interjected smoothly, cutting off Julius's complaints. With a refined smile, the Ashen Legion's leader sipped his coffee before continuing. "What matters now is that the High Elves are in serious trouble. Do we continue helping them? And what should we do if we're attacked again?"
"Your Majesty, Lord Fugen, our ironclads are formidable, but we've used up more than half of our cannon ammunition in this battle. Two of our side guns were destroyed, and the soldiers are exhausted after such a long sea voyage," Bertrand, commander of the Old Guard, spoke up. His sharpshooting had been exceptional in the battle, having taken down a wight with a well-placed arrow through the eye. "We need to make landfall as soon as possible. If this drags on, even with our ironclads, we'll be worn down by the undead."
"Teclis is essential to holding the forces of order together. We cannot allow anything to happen to him," Sulia added, though her weariness was evident. Each time she used the Void Dance, it left her feeling drained, as though both her strength and psychic power had been fully expended. Still, she mustered enough energy to press her point. "Besides, I have the feeling our movements have been compromised. This ambush was well-prepared, and it seems like we've been under surveillance for a long time."
"That's to be expected. The sea is their domain, after all," Davout, the Old Guard's vice-commander, said bluntly. "But that's all the more reason Teclis can't be harmed. If anything happens to him, the High Elves will surely suspect we were in league with the undead and Dark Elves. And considering the… company His Majesty keeps…" His words trailed off with a pointed glance.
Ryan smirked slightly at the remark, and everyone silently agreed. The blame would be too great if something happened to Teclis under their protection.
"Then it's settled. Inform Teclis to send his navigators. We sail at full speed for Ulthuan," Ryan and Fugen concluded.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Meanwhile, deep within the Great Ocean, at the cursed Grave of Ships, the great maelstrom swirled ominously.
The Shadow Ghost slowed as it approached the wreckage of countless ships. Here, three new undead fleets had already formed, and Noctilus, the master of the Drowned Empire, stood proudly among them. "Report."
"The Terror of the Abyss is no more. Our fleet has suffered heavy losses, and the Druchii's vanguard commander was slain in a single blow. Our cannons couldn't penetrate the ironclads' armor," Ghost Commander Waghurst said, his body pierced by two elven eagle claws, though they barely seemed to affect him.
"Cylostra has been destroyed," Noctilus murmured, his tone as cold and uncaring as ever. "Her cursed soul has been banished from the mortal realm. She can no longer be revived."
"What of the Druchii?"
"Lord Kraken, Luxia the Heart of Darkness, has allied with us. His black ark is approaching Ulthuan as we speak," Waghurst replied, his rotten, fishy breath filling the air. "The Druchii have also struck an alliance with the northern barbarians. They said it plainly—any enemy of the Asur is a friend of the Druchii."
"Excellent. Prepare for the next assault," Noctilus commanded, his voice full of hatred and fury. "The High Elves dared to provoke me! I am the true master of the seas!"
"And bring the Queen Bess cannon. We'll need it to deal with those Dwarven ironclads."
"Yes, my lord!"
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