“Darryl,” I said calmly. “Get ready to open the door on my say so.”

We’d arranged ourselves in what I thought might be the best configuration to enact what I thought was the best plan of attack—not immediately fucking dying. I glanced at Rua, to gauge her reaction to what we were about to do, but she wasn’t looking my way. Instead, her eyes were clouded over as she examined something inside her menu screen.

Derelynd glanced nervously at me.

“You’re certain this is the best—”

“Vosket’s dick!” Stinky exclaimed. “Just fuckin’ prepare yourself, lilly-balls! Show an ounce of fuckin’ audacity!”

Trembling, Derelynd nodded. Then he raised his hand like he needed to ask his teacher for a bathroom pass.

“Ready,” he said.

“Alright,” I said. “Frida?”

The Guardian was standing in front of the open feather chest, her hand raised over the lid. Within, the unconscious Jesimir Carandalon was wedged haphazardly, his broken body curled around our unneeded belongings, his arms and leg still straight out. The items were stowed for safekeeping as it wouldn’t do to have anything slowing us down right now. Not with so much on the line.

“Donnae need te worry on me, Loon,” she said, her tone serious and deadly. “Ah’m not losin’ any’ne else.”

I nodded at her and turned back to the door, reaching out to the possessed roe with my mental connection.

Clucky. Jumpy. Slappy. Mortimer. Y’all ready to bring the noise?

Ready! They resounded as one.

“It’s too late now for a potty break,” I said aloud. “So if you have to go…either hold it or shit yourself. But try to aim toward him. Everyone else ready to go?”

“Well, we’re not here to fuck spiders, mate,” Garth said.

“Uh…what?” I returned.

“We’re fuckin’ ready, orc,” Stinky said. “Let’s fucking get this over with.”

Congratulations! You’ve raised a Skill!

Leadership [F-Rank Level 2]

I smirked, now suddenly feeling a bit more confidence in this idea.

“Okay…NOW!”

I heard the chest snap at the exact moment Derelynd closed his palm.

“Feather chest, minimize!” I yelled just as the door to the cabin opened.

I was relieved that the stomach acid didn’t suddenly come crashing through the open portal like elevator blood in the Shining, but—despite my belief—I was not fully prepared for what awaited on the other side.

Crowmoon stood there, in all his towering handsomeness, looking like he’d barely survived an encounter with a woodchipper. I mean, he was really beat the fuck up. Apparently, the captain had once again whipped his ass hard, but he’d either killed her or escaped. Again. But, more importantly—his body was shimmering with hot, blue light. But even more more importantly, he held a familiar object in one outstretched hand: The Behemoth Blade.

Oh, fu–

“Hello!” Crowmoon greeted us excitedly.

Then the sword pulsed, and a stream of blue fire shot from its tip and lit the whole area up.