The runes etched into the crystal coffin blazed to life, glowing with sunken emerald flame. The mimic burped again—this time a long, delighted urruuuugh—as the soul-flame poured into the preserved corpse of the king.
I was in battle stance, already circulating qi. Felicity crouched low, shadows stirring at her fingertips. Captain Riggs muttered, "By the Abyss… his soul went home to roost…" Then the body moved. The King's eyes snapped open, blazing sea-glass green. With a deep breath like an incoming tidal wave, the Delta Pirate King—Dante Bone-Crest Virage—sat up. The coffin cracked open like an old bottle, and he stepped out, all six feet and change of him, broad-shouldered and regal, armored in coral-plated captain's leathers and a spine mantle made from the bones of a leviathan eel.
He looked around, slowly. Until his gaze landed on Oria. A long pause. Then he smiled—weathered, wise, wolfish. "So. You're the one who answered the call." Oria's throat caught. "Y-you're real. You're alive!" Dante let out a dry laugh, shaking salt from his pauldrons. "Not quite. Not in the way you think." He turned, waving a hand. With a twist of intent, the mimic chest closed its mouth and settled like a loyal dog.
Dante continued; "This body is but a vessel. Like a ship at sea. My real self—my soul—has long since climbed into the higher martial planes. This… this is more like a message in a bottle. An echo. A shadow I sent down to speak with you." I narrowed my eyes. "So you're... piloting your corpse remotely?"
Dante's grin deepened. "Aye. That's the price of mastering a domain and forging an Inheritance. Death no longer means the end. You ascend to the second coil of existence." He turned back to Oria, eyes shining. "And now it's your turn, Daughter." He stepped closer, towering, heavy with ancient vestigium force and command. He raised a hand and pressed two fingers gently to her forehead. A ripple of pink fire moved through her body. She gasped—visions flooding in.
Storms, sea serpents, burning fleets, triumph. "For the next five years," Dante said solemnly, "you will cultivate the Pirate Kings inheritance in my domain. My spirit will guide you. My trials will shape you. And if you endure… you will become more than just my heir." "You'll become a true Queen of the Pirates." Oria dropped to one knee, tears brimming—but her voice held steel. "I accept the inheritance, Grandfather. I'll be worthy of the throne." He reached down and lifted her chin with one gloved hand.
"You already are, Oria. I'm just here to help you recognize it." Behind him, the mimic growled softly—content, for now. Its sides steamed faintly, still glowing with the Delta King's qi. The throne room still shimmered with soul-light from the mimic and the emerald soul-flame of the Delta King himself. A spectral anchor now shimmered above the crystal coffin—a pulsing crown of sea-runes bound to Oria's bloodline.
Dante turned toward the others—those who had fought, bled, and endured to help his heir rise.
He extended a hand, and an old tide walker's medallion spiraled out of his palm, landing in Captain Riggs' hand. "To you, sea-cutter and map-breaker. The Medallion of the Leviathan Court. May it shield you from storms no sailor survives." Riggs stared down at it—then back up, stunned. "Ain't this… a king's seal from the old age?"
Dante smirked. "Aye. And you've earned it." He turned next to Felicity, tilting his head, eyes narrowing at the blood phage chi squirming quietly inside her. "And you… little parasite. Clever, strange, wicked thing." He raised a brow and tossed her a twisted black case, within it was a woven veil from moon thread.
"The Moon veil band of the spirit huntress ." Pirate king Dante announced, he continued to list the details of the exquisitely worked shimmering Moon light veil.
This garment will increase your reaction time by fourteen percent and increases your base dodge speed and reaction time. It has plus elven percent spirit defense and a passive! The Lunar Mirage Passive: Once per battle, if you would take a fatal hit, the veil projects a moonlight afterimage, negating the blow and allowing you to reposition instantly. Cooldown: 3 battles.
This is also part of a whole gear set called ''Veil'' If you happen to discover another Moon veil gear piece like persay an amulet, or bracer, you will gain the Night Stride armor set blessing — a 25% increase in speed when fighting under moonlight or in darkness
The Moon veil Band was once worn by a spirit hunter who stalked leviathans across the midnight seas. It's said her shadow still lingers in the ring, guiding its wielder when the night is deepest. Felicity snatched it out of the air and grinned, sliding it onto her clawed finger. "Oh, I like you, dead king." But when Dante's gaze fell upon Ash, the room shifted. The mimic chest—still faintly smoldering—shuffled across the floor and sat by Ash's feet like a hound. Dante stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Ash's shoulder. "And you… Dream-walker. Storm soul. You've seen what others fear to even dream. You stood beside Oria when the blood called."
The king's eyes sparkled with grim humor. "I could keep the mimic. Or I could give it to you—on one condition." I blinked. "What's the condition?" Dante grinned. "Don't let it eat you." The mimic let out a growl that sounded disturbingly like a snicker. I placed a hand on its iron-plated shell. It gurgled a purred. I laughed, "I think I can agree to those conditions."
Its belly could compress and distill raw forging materials into Relics, artifacts, accessories, weapons and armor—and in time, would become the foundation of my weapon crafting technique. I nodded, grateful—but my eyes had already drifted to the map on the back wall, showing the five seas and a blurry continent etched with savage sigils. I accepted the mimic's leash with a nod, my fingers brushing its armored shell as the Soul Furnace inside rumbled quietly, like a sleeping volcano.
Laughter still echoed in the crystal throne room, and yet…a sharp ache pierced my chest. It came sudden, unbidden—like a phantom wind from a land too distant to name. Not a memory, exactly. Just… a feeling. Red earth. Bronze skies. Furrowed hills and growling things in the night. Home. Or what should have been home. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Something inside me twisted—not sorrow, not longing.
Need.
I stepped forward, my voice quieter than before. "Can I ask one more thing?" Dante, still half-smiling. "Ask." I looked up, my eyes steady, but shadowed. "I would like to go home. I need to go home. I want to find Beast Vein Continent." A pause. The room stilled. Even the mimic went quiet. Dante studied him, then turned to the floating crest above Oria's head. He touched it—and a ripple of qi surged outward. A moment later, a glowing map fragment floated from the map wall and hovered toward me.
It glowed with bestial aura—wild, volatile, and unclaimed. "This fragment is tethered to the old routes once used by the Nine Beast Kings of the Untamed Continent," Dante said solemnly. "Their lands are not charted, but their legacy leaves tracks in the spirit sea."
"Follow it… but beware. The Beast Continent is where kings die, or are born anew." I took the map fragment. It burned faintly in his hand. His eyes locked with Dante's.
"I'll find it. I have to." Dante nodded. "Then go Son, And make your own Inheritance." On the docks outside the inheritance gates, Oria embraced Ash and Captain Riggs, her eyes fierce but grateful. "Thank you—both of you. I would've never reached the throne without your help. The blood of the Delta King remembers."
Captain Riggs adjusted his coat, clearing his throat. "You got the blood, lass. Make it count. Don't squander the throne chasing ghosts." She nodded, then I stepped away with the Captain, boots crunching on sun-warmed stone. The mimic chest trundled along after me, latching onto my spirit signature like a docile pet beast. Aboard the Crimson Typhoon, hours later
The sails caught moonlight. The sea sang low. Captain Riggs leaned on the railing, pipe smoke curling around his scarred face. "You're really headed to the Beast Vein Continent?" I glanced over. "That's where home is, and there's some urgent business I left unfinished." Riggs exhaled. "I figured as much. I'll take you halfway—but I've got a wife up north, and I've already danced with death more times than I've kissed her. I plan to fix that."
They stood in silence for a moment. Then, the Captain clapped Ash on the back. "You're not just a storm, boy. You're what comes after it. Try not to get yourself eaten."
I smiled faintly. "I'll try."
Below deck – Ash's private cabin The mimic chest sat motionless in the corner, its lid cracked just a hair. Inside, shadows swirled. Felicity emerged from the ceiling like liquid shadow, flowing down in strands of red-tinged black goo. Her eyes glimmered with mischief and heat as she slithered across the room and toward the mimic's lock.
Click.
The lock turned with a wet sigh. Felicity poured herself in through the keyhole dimension, letting instinct and parasite senses guide her inward. Inside the mimic chest the space bent unnaturally—a grotesque, moaning gut-realm, wet with fluid, twitching tendrils, and half-digested spirit light. The core of the Soul Furnace throbbed in the distance like a dark heart. In the tangled center, Faeluxe hung suspended, caught in thick membranous tentacles.
Her pale skin shimmered with chi-sealing gel, her eyes unfocused. When Felicity slid into view, the pixie's head jerked up.
"Y-you—! How—where am I?!" Felicity floated closer, arms draped languidly behind her back like wings. "Inside the mimic. It liked the taste of you." Faeluxe squirmed. "Get me out. You have to get me out!" Felicity tilted her head, watching her like a cat watches a moth.
"I can. But I won't. Not unless." She reached out with a hand that oozed down into a blood root, wrapping softly around Faeluxe's ankle. "You surrender the Ever-Pure Ribbon… and your loyalty." Faeluxe's lip trembled. "You're not going to leave me here… are you?!" Felicity smiled. It wasn't cruel. Just… claiming. "I'll save you. But you'll belong to me now." There was silence in the mimic's prisoner holding cell. Then—slowly, reluctantly—Faeluxe nodded. "Fine! I give up! I surrender! Just get me out!"
Felicity leaned in, kissed her gently on the lips, and with that kiss, something entered Faeluxe—a blooming seed of parasite claim, a mark of blood bond, nestled deep in her spirit. Felicity whispered, lips brushing Faeluxe's ear: "You're mine now. Since I belong to Ash… you belong to him, too." She coiled around her new pet and began the process of extraction, dragging Faeluxe out of the mimic's core with a ripple of corrupted dream light.