"Grace Walker?" David spoke his name aloud, not in a question, but rather under a sort of realization of the person that he was chained up right next to.
Grace sat down, leaning against the wood.
Where's my carbs when I need them... Grace groaned as he briefly closed his eyes once his vision darkened in-and-out. Then he opened them back up, sharpening.
"Got any ideas on how we can get out of this situation?" Grace asked. He didn't have any experience with dungeons so he figured he would ask David and Miller if they had any idea on how to navigate such a perilous situation.
David grumbled, shaking his head.
"...First time for everything?" Miller sighed, pulling himself down so he could rest alongside the curvature of the wood.
"How about you?" David asked Grace.
He merely sighed in response, allowing his head to rest on the wood much like Miller. He looked at the two of them, wearing a lopsided smile. One that looked pitifully weak.
"We have two options. The first being we break free from the chains — but still having the mana restricting cuffs — and then jump off of the ship and allow fate to take its course."
Had their situation not been so perilous, Grace could almost laugh at the faces that they were making at him.
"So I'm stuck with a noble idiot," David muttered. "Just my luck..." His voice trailed off as he bent his legs so he could sit down on the floor.
Grace continued, "Or we could wait." Their eyebrows raised at this one.
"What do you mean?" Miller asked.
BOOM!
Something far had exploded into a sonic boom, landing not too far away from the ship and into the water.
"We're under attack!"
Everyone turned to the source of the sonic boom, their gaze landing on a ship that was sailing towards them.
"This," Grace muttered to them. "Is our ticket to freedom."
Dungeons are stories, transcriptions of the universe.
This also means they contain a narrative.
Regardless of where someone ends up when entering a dungeon, paths will converge. Because a dungeon can only be exited if the narrative itself has been completed.
Of course, the narrative is not fixed, which leads to a vast array of completions that contain unorthodox methods.
Miller looked between Grace and the incoming ship.
"Are those... supposed to be our saviors?" He asked aimlessly.
The rain poured harder, the yells of the pirates drowning further. But they could definitely see the panic on their face as the ship approached theirs.
David shook his head.
"Probably not," his gaze turned to Grace. "Though I'm guessing you're probably not suggesting we latch onto them." Grace nodded to that statement.
Grace's gaze swept through the crowd before forcing himself up.
"We're going to hide in that hatchet over there," Grace said, his eyes being used as substitutes over his index finger. Their gaze turned towards where the hatchet was, and then their eyes turned towards the cuffs.
Before they could ask, Grace closed his eyes and took in a deep inhale. He opened his eyes back open, turned towards the ledge and began to bang the cuffs on the edges of the wood.
Shit... Grace grimaced at the painful tremors. But he continued, making sure each bang on the wood was harder than the last. And it was only to the point where his hands grew numb did the cuffs finally break.
David and Miller had been doing the same.
Once free, they watched as the ship arrived, the bow of the ship pointed directly at their side. The three wasted no time to enter the hatchet once the air shifted into something more violent, evil.
Dark.
"It's so damn dark," David whispered to them, only being able to see the faint outlines of Grace and Miller's figure.
"Do you guys have an abilities that can give us light?" Asked Miller.
David gave no answer, allowing Miller to assume that he probably didn't have anything. Grace gave out a quiet hum.
"Maybe...?"
He looked at his status window, specifically the two most important aspects that he currently had.
[God: The Creator]
[Prayer Characteristic: Creator's Phantasm (Rank 1)]
Even now he had trouble wrapping his head around the fact that the God he was bound to was the Creator itself. As his head trailed into the celestial territory of his Prayer Characteristic, Grace could vividly imagine the basis of the ability.
And in one swirl, actualizing it.
"Woah," Miller muttered, seeing Grace form a sharp dagger that glowed a translucent azure.
It floated in the air, bobbling softly before Grace instinctively gravitated it towards himself.
Grace hummed as he inspected the dagger before extending his arm out and allowing the luminescent light to shower their nearby vicinity.
David couldn't help but break out in a grin.
"Food," David brushed past the two of them, stumbling down on the food that had littered the wooden floors.
There was all sorts of fruits around the--apples, bananas, peaches, mangos. And there was even sausage links that hung on the ceiling.
Grace took a banana and ate it all in a matter of seconds.
"It's best to eat the bananas first," Grace commented. "They're faster to eat." And they were also relatively high in the glycemic index, which would greatly benefit their very low blood sugar levels.
Miller cast his eyes to the side, picking up a brown sack.
Grace and David both instinctively knew what to do. As they heard the screams and spillage of blood boil above them, they hurriedly gathered as much food as possible.
"Look," David pointed towards a faint outline of a door that Grace's luminescent dagger was shining towards. "Shall we?" He questioned as he ate another banana and threw it on the floor.
Miller and Grace nodded their heads.
However, Grace soon stopped.
Sniff!
"Smoke," Grace whispered. "This boat might just collapse." Miller and David both wore a strained expression at his words.
Fwoom!
Fwoom!
Outside, they could vividl hear the swaying of flames flying in the air.
"I don't get it," Miller muttered. "Shouldn't the rain be putting the fire out?" he asked as they entered the next room.
David was the first to respond.
"Probably an artifact that is helping it to be immune or something. That or they have some sort of spell that is increasing the fire's resistance to water."
Grace looked outside one of the windows, catching one of the pirates that held them as captives fall into the ocean, dyed in his own blood.
Soon, an array of figures began to fall. Both their enslavers and their "saviors."
Reaching the deepest part of the ship, they came across a much smaller ship that was holed up at the bottom. There was a hole beside them - facing the direction of the enemy ship - that was presumably created because of the two captains duking it out above.
This would be their ticket to freedom.
"...But just how will we get out unnoticed..." Grace spoke aloud as his face wore an inquisitive look.
Miller turned to the opening beside them.
Smoke was flailing.
"The smoke and rain... should shield us if we go the opposite direction of the enemy ship?" Miller pointed out. David hummed a quiet tune as he took a peek outside.
A green wave flung around the two ships.
Wind Magic... David thought.
He turned around.
"There seems to be someone using Wind Magic."
"Will that prove to be a problem?" Grace asked.
"I... don't think so. The Wind Magic doesn't seem to be disturbing the rain or smoke too badly."
Grace nodded his head, turning towards the boat. It luckily had an engine attached so their escape could prove to be swift.
"Well then... let us be haste."
They cornered the boat, using all of their feeble strength and pushed it down to the waters. Due to ocean surface not being too far off from their current elevation, the splash was marginal.
"Quick," Grace spoke hurriedly. "Jump on." As their bodies began to be clad in the rain water once more, they all saw the bodies that floated aimlessly on the ocean surface.
Fortunately, the boat landed in a way where it wouldn't be impeded by human flesh.
VROOM!
Grace smirked.
"Mission accomplished."
However, as the boat roared and propelled them towards the opposite direction of the enemy boat, two blades of Wind Magic were launched towards them.
Swoosh!
Swoosh!
Barely missing the boat, Grace and the others looked at the source of the doer. A tan man stood atop the burning ship that once belong to Captain Paren.
His face was sharp, his cheeks slightly hollow. His eyes were like a snake's fang, accompanied by a medium-length auburn hair that wetly clung to the sides of his face.
And in his hand was the head of Captain Paren.
David and Miller widened their eyes.
"Shit," David cursed. "That's fucking Gabe Laughlin." Grace looked at the two of them with a questionable gaze.
"Who?"
"That's the person who leads the group of bandits that chained us up."