She was more ancient than she looked.

Kokuri felt a drop of water hitting her cheek. Standing on the edge of the harbor, her hair blown by the violent gust, she could see a swirling chaos approaching from the horizon: the skystorm.

‘It’s about time,’ said a voice.

Kokuri shifted her attention to the monster worshipper beside her. He wore a black coat, and his face was hidden under the silhouette of his hood. He presented her kunais, all neatly arranged on a fine cloth.

She picked one kunai and inspected the weapon. The edge of the blade was sharp; at a touch it cut her fingertips and tasted her blood. A weapon with bloodthirst.

The side of the blade, save for the dripping blood, had been polished to a point that she could see her own reflection. Of a young woman with pitch-black eyes, whose skin had never known any creases, staring back at her.

I prefer it red, she thought. Seeing blood at the side of the blade was better than a reflection.

Kokuri took her weapons and stored them under her kimono where she could gain easy access. The cut on her fingertip which she got from touching the blade had gone without a trace, as if it was never wounded.

Once the weapon was with her, she began walking toward a dock, followed by the other monster worshippers. Specifically, toward an enclosed dock that contained a particular ship.

I’ll dye it red.

***

Inside an enclosed dock was the Stormpiercer.

‘A great many had contributed to the creation of this storm-conquering massive ship,’ explained a sword worshipper with enthusiasm. ‘Made by the best of hands using the best material, the record had stated that this ship had dated back to the day of the chronicle; and that there was a possibility that this was the same ship that Zen Himself had used for his travels.

‘In stories, it was said that the Stormpiercer had conquered storms worse than the skystorm…’ Vod stopped listening there.

Whether it could go through the skystorm, Vod thought as he saw Freya admiring the ship, touching the wooden hull with her palm, would be tested by her—and the captain. Drizzle was standing on tiptoe with his arm spread, hugging the ship.

‘Her beauty is on par with the skystorm,’ he said with a wide grin, cheek pressed on the wood. ‘I think I’m in love.’

The Zenist who had been briefing the ship’s story noticed that Freya and Drizzle weren’t listening and sighed with a smile, understanding their admiration.

‘Its sail is tear-proof,’ the Zenist switched from explaining the ship’s history to its features. This served to interest them both. ‘Its rudders are specially made on the side and back, capable of steering out of a storm if used skillfully.’

‘How does it fare if a giant wave swallows it whole?’ Freya asked. Her violet hair was still wet from having swum to save Drizzle, and she had changed from her wet clothes to the sanctum’s spare uniform in the dock. To Vod, the new sword saint only looked more formidable in that uniform.

‘If a giant wave swallows it whole, it will drown,’ the Zenist explained simply. ‘Then it would rise back up and resurface. It has an in-built mechanism that allows it to rise back upright after being submerged. The concern about this ship is not whether a storm would break it, but whether it could rise back up before the crew drowns.

‘What the ship needs is not a crew that can hold their breath until it resurfaces. What it needs is a reliable captain who could avoid waves that could drown the crew longer than they can hold their breath.’

‘How about it, Drizzle?’ Freya challenged with a smile.

‘She’s all I could ask for to go through the skystorm. The most beautiful ship I’ve seen...’

‘… I wouldn’t advise going through the sky—'

‘I’m not backing down,’ Freya stopped him short. ‘Not unless you give me an alternative to get to Malegonia faster.’

Vod could feel determination coming from her spoken words. That same determination silenced the Zenist.

Vod had no idea why Freya was in such a hurry to Malegonia, but what mattered was that she was serious. She would challenge the skystorm if it meant arriving faster at Malegonia. She has something that I don’t.

‘We need to check inside the ship!’ Drizzle said with excitement. ‘Let’s go!’

He too has it.

It vexed him—to know that others had what he did not, but he could not pinpoint what exactly was it. All he knew was that he was lacking. What he lacked he did not know, but he could feel the absence. As long as that feeling persisted, Vod could never accept the sword saint title.

‘Vod, you’re not coming to check the inside of the ship?’ Freya asked. Her hands were already on the ladder.

‘I’ll catch up,’ he answered.

‘See you soon.’ Freya climbed the ladder toward the deck.

Now that Vod was here instead of patrolling the alleyway, he would do the sanctum good by checking on the security in this enclosed dock.

***

Hearing that the inscription Elaine had inspected was Extinct Formulae Magic, Dunnford was not as shocked as he was supposed to be and thought that it was good that they were encountering something they knew of. Before, the term had been foreign, but now it was familiar enough that he wasn’t all that surprised.

‘Could you figure out what it does, Miss Elaine?’ Dunnford asked. Knowing the type of inscription was helpful; it meant that this blood-inscription hadn’t been a decoy used by the monster worshippers to distract the Zenists. It would be even better if they figure out what it would do.

‘I have no idea,’ Elaine reluctantly shook her head in defeat.

That surprised him. ‘No idea at all?’

‘No idea at all.’

‘There might be something.’ Dunnford stepped closer toward the inscription and looked at it himself. He wasn’t as knowledgeable about magic as Elaine was, but he might be able to offer a new perspective that could help. ‘That symbol,’ Dunnford pointed out, ‘isn’t that familiar to the seal I had?’

‘The very same.’

‘Perhaps we could figure from there?’

‘Dunnford, Extinct Formulae Magic does not behave like normal Formulae Magic. They do not behave like addition, but like permutation. That symbol alone does one thing. When in combination with another symbol it does another. And when it is combined with all those, who knows what it does?’

‘You managed to break the one that sealed my Elemental Magic.’

‘Because I had papers about your seal. And it was done with vague understanding of the magic. Just because I have a key that could open a lock doesn’t mean that I fully grasp and understand the mechanism of locks—that I could create myself a key for other locks. As it stands right now, I do not understand the mechanism that rules Extinct Formulae Magic to figure the inscription out.’

Considering that this inscription was written with Extinct Formulae Magic, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to consider that this could be a dangerous magic that needed to be dealt with. Instead of figuring out what the inscription could do from the symbols, Dunnford took a step back in his mind and tried figuring it out from the monster worshipper’s motive.

They were in Lune for a reason. What was it that Lune had? Of all the places, why did the inscription had to be in the alleyway? Why was it written during the skystorm?

The answer is right here, but it’s unreadable.

‘Is there no way to figure what it does?’

‘… There might be.’

“Might” is better than none. ‘What—’

A scream erupted in the alleyway, cutting Dunnford short.

***

Whilst Drizzle was figuring out how much accommodations could fit inside the ship with the Zenist guide’s help, Freya had thought that she could leave Drizzle behind; and she decided to go out of the storage room, ascending the stairs onto the main deck.

There, she encountered a young woman wearing a purple, pink-flowered, kimono. Her pitch-black eyes stared at the white uniform Freya was wearing, recognizing her as one of the Zenists.

She eyed Celeste, then held one finger up. ‘One chance,’ she offered with a grin.

She had the color of death.

Freya's hand wandered to her own shoulder. 'Have I met you before?'