Chapter 525: The Hijackers [Part 2]
In the distance, obscured from each other by the clouds, an airship hovered, cutting through the cover like a predatory beast stalking its prey.
It was darker in appearance, with jagged edges along its hull, unlike the smooth, polished surface of the soul vessel.
The sails were tattered but not from wear-rather, they seemed intentionally designed to whip the air like wings of some nightmarish creature.
It had an angular shape, almost birdlike, though warped and twisted, as though the materials had been forcibly bent into a malevolent formation.
Its hull bore scars of past battles, dents and gashes where the metal looked like it had been patched over hastily.
Black symbols were etched into the sides, intricate designs resembling ancient runes. Unlike the vessel, they seemed to be dead, broken, and lost to the weariness of the dark vessel.
Two figures stood at the ship's prow, cloaked in shadows. Their faces were obscured by hooded garments, but their postures radiated cold precision.
One held a long rifle slung over his shoulder, its barrel gleaming under the dim light breaking through the clouds, while the other rested a hand on a short blade strapped to their hip.
The wind around them seemed to ripple unnaturally, and as the ship drew closer, it was clear -this was a vessel of damnation.
One of the figures, his golden eyes radiating with a deadly grace, warned, "Be sure you do not miss. This will be the core of our operation. If it fails now..."
"Old man, cut me some slack already. You've said this like a thousand times," the other replied with a harsh tone, his voice ruffle-like. He fell to his knee and slammed the rifle off his shoulders, aiming towards the cloud.
The figure with the golden eyes narrowed them, his gaze growing colder. "Do not forget your place, boy. If it fails, you'll wish I had only repeated myself."
His voice held a quiet malice, barely a whisper carried by the wind. The shadows around him seemed to deepen, coiling like serpents ready to strike.
The rifleman grunted, adjusting his aim as he knelt on the splintered deck. His sharp, calculating eyes narrowed behind the scope, tracking something invisible within the thick clouds.
"I never miss."
The air was thick with tension, the sound of the wind whistling through the tattered sails and the hum of their ship's corrupted essence filling the void between them.
Slowly, the rifleman's finger hovered over the trigger, ready to unleash devastation.
The airship carrying Northern and his group, along with several other passengers, sailed unsuspectingly, gliding through the clouds with ease.
Its passengers—except the white-haired kid and his father had no idea of the looming threat that now targeted them from the embrace of the clouds.
"Do it," the golden-eyed man commanded.
The rifleman pulled the trigger.
A sharp crack split the air, followed by a pulse of dark energy rippling outward from the barrel.
The shot was not a simple bullet-it was a concentrated burst of refined soul essence, an explosive force specifically designed to disrupt the flow of energy coursing through the opposing ship.
The projectile vanished into the clouds, unseen by the passengers below.
Aboard Northern's ship, the calm journey was shattered.
The airship suddenly lurched to the side, the hum of the engines faltering, their flow of soul essence flickering erratically.
Northern grabbed the rail instinctively, his eyes widening as the ship shuddered, veering off course. "What the hell..." he muttered under his breath.
Even though he had seen this chaos happening, what troubled him was the anticipation of how it was going to start. Northern thought he had cast his spatial awareness all around but was shocked to find that he didn't even see the hit coming until it had landed.
Annoyingly, even now, he still wasn't seeing the source of the hit.
The soul vessel groaned as it tried to correct itself, but the energy within the ship sputtered and wavered. The essence from the attack was disrupting its core.
Above, in the other airship, the rifleman stood, a smug grin twisting his lips. "Direct hit."
The golden-eyed man did not smile. He simply watched, cold and calculating. "We begin the boarding now. Prepare the crew."
As the dark vessel descended rapidly toward the soul vessel, ropes and grappling hooks were thrown overboard, sinking deep into the wooden hull with a sickening crack.
The hijackers had made their move.
Back on Northern's ship, chaos erupted as the crew scrambled to understand what was happening.
Alystren burst out from the cabin, his face filled with a rare fury. He met Northern's eyes across the deck.
He glared up, his eyes meeting the red emblem of the hijackers that slithered down the ropes. Too frozen to act, the hijackers landed, darting in all directions. One moved towards Alystren, whose eyes were still widened.
Belatedly, as a fist swiftly curved across his face, Alystren's eyes narrowed. He backstepped the attack with ease, the attacker's fist sweeping the air in front of his face.
Before the man could swing back his hand, Alystren, with a furious frown on his face, caught the man's hand by the elbow and pulled him in, smashing a devastating punch into his face. The attacker swung in the air, his feet flailing towards the sky as his head plummeted to the ground.
Before he finished his fall, Alystren's foot was already accompanying his head, plunging it into the wooden deck with such force that a tremoring creak ran across the whole ship.
He glanced up, finding Northern and Shin with his eyes.
Northern was locked with two hijackers, but his eyes radiated a coldness that made Alystren worry for the attackers instead. Shin was barely using s entire body while he dealt with his
portion.
There was a fluidity in his movements that screamed experience. Even though he was limiting his movement as much as he could, he was still moving with practiced efficiency, one that could only be noticed by a master in combat like Alystren.
Northern's expression darkened as he scanned the sky, his cold gaze cutting through the
chaos.
'How did I not notice the ship until now...'
That could only mean two things: the entire airship was a vessel created to mask its presence,
or someone on it was masking its presence.
He was distracted even as he fought, but his mind raced, calculating the next steps.
The attackers weren't the real threat-he could feel it.
Two hijackers lunged at him again, their weapons drawn.
One swung a jagged blade toward his side, while the other tried to take advantage of the
distraction, thrusting a spear towards his back.
But Northern moved faster than their eyes could track, slipping between their attacks with a
ghostly grace.
His hand shot out, grabbing the spear mid-thrust and snapping it in half with a flick of his
wrist.
The hijacker recoiled in shock, but before he could retreat, Northern's fist connected with his jaw, sending him crashing into the side of the ship.
The other hijacker barely had time to react before Northern stepped into his space, twisting the man's wrist and forcing him to drop the blade.
A single blow to his chest knocked him to the ground, leaving him gasping for air. Northern didn't waste time. He glanced back up at the sky, the tension in his shoulders tightening.
Something was off.
The hijackers were just the first wave-fodder meant to create confusion. The real danger was still up there, hidden behind the clouds.
That shot had been aimed with surgical precision. Northern found himself more keen on what had managed to hit them from behind.
Moreover, whatever had taken a shot at them could not have had the speed to arrive just above
them. While Northern was inclined to believe they were the same, his mind screamed at another line of reasoning.
Alystren, having dispatched his attacker, strode toward Northern, his fists still clenched in
fury.
"I need you to speak with your sleeping buddy. For these people, we will need all the help we can get." His voice was sharp, cutting through the din of battle around them. Northern's frown deepened, but he didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze lingered on the dark ship above, now descending closer. He then swung to Alystren,
"Sounds like you know them. Who are they and what do they want?"
Alystren frowned, "This is not the time and place for this, but they are a very dangerous bunch. I don't know why they are suddenly attacking an airship heading to Arcadia." Alystren's eyes suddenly widened as if he had an epiphany.
'Arcadia. These bastards, are they trying to restrict the entry to Arcadia... or are they trying to
enter themselves?'
Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed across the sky.
Another shot from the hijackers' ship, this time aimed directly at the heart of the soul vessel.
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[Author's Note]
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