The echo of the sirens still resonated in Ash's ears as he descended the stairs of the main mast. Typhaon's order had been clear: prepare for combat. But while other Awakened ran to their posts with expressions of panic or determination, Ash moved with a calmness that bordered on the unnatural.
He had felt the presence of The Dutchman from the moment the green mist appeared on the horizon. He had felt its weight, its antiquity, its hunger. And now that he knew what it was, now that he understood that it was not just a ship but a vessel for something much older and more terrible, his instinct told him to prepare for a battle unlike any before.
He found Priscilla on the main deck, surrounded by a group of Awakened who looked at her with expectation. The girl had her arms crossed and an expression of annoyance that Ash knew all too well.
"Ah, here comes the great hero," Priscilla said sarcastically when she saw him approach. "The one who disappears without explanation, who leaves his companion stranded while he goes off to play important with the saints."
"I'm sorry about that," Ash replied, his voice calm. "I didn't have time to explain."
"You didn't have time? Of course not! Because you're an expert at disappearing when things get interesting," Priscilla approached him, her dark eyes gleaming with intensity. "What the hell is going on, Ash? What is that mist? Why are the alarms sounding?"
Ash looked at her for a moment, evaluating how much he could tell her. Finally, he sighed.
"It's The Dutchman. A ghost ship that appears every year in the Storm Sea. It brings with it a fleet of spectral ships and creatures that are neither alive nor dead. The saints say it's a cyclical threat, something that always returns no matter how many times they face it."
Priscilla looked at him as if he had said something absurd.
"A ghost ship? Are you serious?" she asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. "I thought ghosts were fairy tale things."
"Not here," Ash replied, pointing to the horizon. "Look."
Priscilla followed his gaze and her eyes widened. The sea of green mist had spread considerably, covering almost half the horizon. And within it, emerging slowly from the fog, rose the silhouette of a colossal ship.
It wasn't a wooden ship like the Nocturnal Garden. It was a mass of dark metal, a battleship that seemed pulled from the wars of the waking world, but distorted, corrupted by something that didn't belong to reality. Its cannons were like twisted claws, its chimneys exhaled green smoke that mixed with the mist, and on its prow, like a distorted figurehead, was the shape of a creature that was half man, half beast.
"That... that's not a normal ship," Priscilla murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "What kind of thing is that?"
"The Dutchman," Ash repeated. "And it's not alone."
As if responding to his words, a ghostly moan filled the air. It was a sound that came from everywhere at once, a lament that seemed to rise from the sea itself, from the mist, from the sky. The Awakened around them covered their ears, some falling to their knees with expressions of pain.
Ash, however, was unfazed. His ghostly nature protected him from that kind of attack, and his [Soul Guide] allowed him to see what others couldn't.
From the hold of the flagship, smaller ships began to emerge. Not as colossal as The Dutchman, but still enormous, each the size of a warship. They emerged from the main vessel as if it were a womb giving birth to children of metal and rotten wood, sliding over the waves with unnatural speed.
"They're approaching!" someone shouted from the mast. "Dozens of them! No, hundreds!"
The long-range aspect masters positioned themselves on the prow of the Nocturnal Garden, their abilities glowing in the air as they prepared their attacks. The saints moved among the ranks, giving orders, organizing the defense.
"First line, attack!" Typhaon ordered, his voice resonating over the chaos.
The long-range Aspect bearers launched their attacks. Beams of energy, arrows of light, projectiles of shadow and flames shot toward the ghost fleet. Some impacted, causing notable damage to the smaller ships, but it wasn't enough. The ships kept emerging, and those that fell were replaced by more.
Ash observed the scene with critical eyes. They were being outnumbered, and the battle had barely begun. If this continued, they would be exhausted before even reaching the flagship.
"Priscilla," he said, turning to the girl. "I'm going ahead."
"What? No, Ash! That's crazy!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "Don't you see how many there are?"
"That's exactly why I have to do it," he replied, freeing his arm gently. "If we wait here, they'll overwhelm us. I have to stop them from the front."
Before Priscilla could protest, Ash summoned the [Red Thorn]. The sword appeared in his hand, its blade of black wood with blood-red edges glowing with sinister light. It was a memory he had obtained recently, a weapon designed to cut souls as much as flesh.
"Crow," he called.
The [Black Steel Crow] appeared in the air, its metallic wings spread wide. Ash leaped, landing on its back with the grace of one who had done it hundreds of times, and in an instant they were soaring through the sky toward the ghost fleet.
The wind whistled around him as he approached the first ship, a vessel of green, rotten wood that moved with unnatural slowness. From the air, Ash could see the crew: humanoid figures of ghostly green, with deformed bodies and empty gazes. They weren't human, they weren't monsters. They were something in between, something that his [Soul Guide] recognized as soul creatures.
Perfect. Souls were his specialty.
Ash descended onto the prow of the ghost ship, his feet touching the rotten wood with a sound that wasn't completely solid. The crew turned toward him, their empty eyes fixed on the intruder.
Ash activated [Soul Guide] and his perception expanded. He could see the essence of those creatures, their energy cores pulsing like diseased hearts. They were trapped souls, distorted, corrupted by something he couldn't identify.
"Let's go," he murmured, raising the [Red Thorn].
The ghost soldiers charged at him, their spectral weapons glowing with green light that illuminated nothing. Ash moved with supernatural speed, his [Ghostly Body] partially activating to allow him to slip between attacks like smoke.
The first soldier reached him with a raised sword. Ash blocked the blow with his [Red Thorn], feeling how the contact between the weapons released a wave of energy that made the wood tremble beneath his feet. Using [Soul Guide], he applied pressure on the specter's sword, exerting force on a point that wasn't physical but spiritual. The ghostly blade shattered with a metallic scream, and a moment later, Ash spun his sword and cut the specter in two.
The creature dissolved into motes of green light, and a voice echoed in Ash's mind.
[You have killed an Awakened Monster:...]
[You have absorbed a soul]
Ash frowned. The spell had stopped before naming the creature, as if even the system didn't know how to classify it. And absorbing a soul... that was new. Normally he only obtained soul fragments, not complete souls.
"Interesting," he murmured, storing that information for later. "I'll study it later."
The soul soldiers didn't give him time to reflect. A dozen of them charged at him, their weapons gleaming with lethal intent. Ash smiled, a smile that wasn't entirely human, and threw himself into battle.
It was a one-sided massacre.
Ash moved among the ghost soldiers like a hot knife through butter. His [Ghostly Body] allowed him to pass through attacks he couldn't dodge, and his [Soul Guide] showed him exactly where to strike to destroy each creature's core. The [Red Thorn] cut through souls like paper, and each blow released an explosion of energy that dissipated into the mist.
Within minutes, the first ship was empty. Ash had eliminated hundreds of ghost soldiers, and his count of absorbed souls had increased considerably.
He jumped to the next ship, repeating the process. The soul soldiers were numerous, but they were no match for him. His divine aspect gave him an overwhelming advantage against this type of creature, and his ability to see and attack souls made him the perfect predator.
By the time he reached the third ship, his echo had already joined the battle. The [Black Steel Crow] flew between the masts, its metallic wings cutting through ghost soldiers with each pass. The creature seemed to enjoy the hunt, and its presence relieved the pressure on Ash.
But even as he eliminated ship after ship, Ash knew this wasn't enough. There were hundreds of ships, and the flagship remained there, undisturbed, watching the battle like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.
He needed to end the source. He needed to reach the captain.
Ash stopped on the mast of the third ship he had cleared, wrapped in gray mist, and observed the flagship. The Dutchman rose above the fleet like a monument to death, its dark metal hull reflecting a light that came from no visible source.
And then he saw it.
On the deck of the flagship, a figure stood above the rest. It was a tall, slender silhouette, with a cloak of green mist swirling around it. Its face was a mask of calm, an almost serene expression that contrasted with the chaos of the battle. And although Ash couldn't see its eyes from that distance, he knew the captain was watching him.
The captain smiled. A slow, disgusting smile that chilled the blood even from kilometers away.
Ash felt a shiver run down his spine. His instinct told him that if he approached that ship, if he tried to face the captain, he would die. It wasn't a feeling of doubt, it was an absolute certainty. There was something in that being that transcended what he could face.
Before he could make a decision, the ground beneath his feet trembled.
The Nocturnal Garden had arrived.
The enormous structure of wood and metal, as large as a floating city, emerged from the mist like a beast awakened from its slumber. Its walls were covered in luminescent lichens that glowed with pale light, and within it, Ash could feel the energy of hundreds of Awakened preparing for battle.
But the Nocturnal Garden wasn't just a ship. It was a living entity, and its arrival changed the course of the battle.
The prow of the Nocturnal Garden opened, revealing an enormous mouth that had no teeth but absorbed everything in its path. The nearest ghost ships were sucked in, their structures disintegrating as the energy that composed them was absorbed by the entity. The Nocturnal Garden fed on them, converting their essence into nourishment for its inhabitants.
Ash summoned the [Black Steel Crow] and flew, moving away from the Nocturnal Garden's trajectory. He watched as the ghost ships were devoured one after another, how the fleet that had been decimating them was reduced by half in a matter of minutes.
And then, the sun began to set.
The sky was tinged with purple and orange tones, and as the light faded, a dense green mist enveloped the ghost fleet. Ash watched as The Dutchman slowly faded, its silhouette becoming increasingly faint until it disappeared completely.
The remaining ships followed, and within seconds, the mist dissipated, leaving the sea calm, as if nothing had happened.
The battle was over.
Ash landed on the edge of the Nocturnal Garden, his body tired but his mind active. He observed the empty horizon, the surface of the sea now calm, and wondered why they had retreated. The Dutchman had left, but it hadn't been defeated. It hadn't been destroyed. It had simply decided to leave.
"Why?" he murmured to himself. "Why did they leave just now?"
He had no answer, but he knew there was something more at play. The Dutchman wasn't a random cyclical threat. Someone or something controlled it, and that someone had decided to withdraw before the battle reached its conclusion.
Ash sighed and, with a mechanical gesture, invoked his runes.
Name: Ashfall
True Name: Dream of Oblivion
Rank: Awakened
Aspect: Ghost
Aspect Rank: Divine
Class: Monster
Soul Cores [2/7]
Soul Fragments: [1036/2000]
Ash opened his eyes in surprise. The last time he had checked, he had around seven hundred fragments. Now, after the battle, he had jumped to over a thousand. He had gained almost four hundred soul fragments in a single battle.
He smiled. It seemed that fighting beings of his same nature greatly increased the rate of fragments he could obtain. Those soul creatures weren't only easy for him to kill, but they also provided a much greater reward than normal abominations.
"That's perfect," he murmured, storing the runes. "If I can find more of those creatures, I could reach two thousand fragments much faster."
But to do that, he needed to find the source of the creatures. He needed to find The Dutchman.
Ash closed his eyes and activated his aspect, extending his perception toward the horizon. His [Soul Guide] expanded, searching for any trace of the green energy he had felt during the battle.
Several minutes passed, and when Ash was about to give up, he felt it. A faint echo, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable. A seed of a nightmare, related to The Dutchman, at a great distance from his current location.
"It's far," he said, opening his eyes. "If I fly in that direction, I could arrive in a few days."
But he couldn't go alone. The second nightmare would be much harder than the first, and he would need allies. He would need someone who could cover his weaknesses, someone he could trust.
"Priscilla," he murmured, thinking of the girl. "Maybe she'll want to come. Or maybe I can find other Awakened interested in hunting The Dutchman."
But that would have to wait. First, he needed to return to the waking world. He needed to rest, prepare, and plan his next move.
Ash said goodbye to Priscilla, who was busy helping the wounded from the battle, and took the portal located within the Nocturnal Garden. The light shone around him as he crossed the threshold between worlds, and when he opened his eyes, he was back in the waking world.
The sky above him was clear blue, the sun shone on the horizon, and the air smelled of sea breeze and grass. It was a strange contrast to the green mist and the battle he had left behind.
Ash took a deep breath and began to walk.
The hunt for The Dutchman had only just begun.