The sky still shimmered with the fading echoes of golden and grey, but the storm had passed.
William flew back to the smaller vessel anchored just off the coast, where two infected players lay slumped on the deck. Their bodies, still unconscious, gleamed faintly, veins threaded with gold, skin marbled with an unnatural sheen. Still alive if barely.
Hovering overhead, he observed them in silence. His left eye, the one tainted and blessed by mutation, scanned their spiritual state. The corruption had worsened since his battle with the taboo, but not beyond saving. Their souls flickered dimly beneath the pollution, yet still intact.
The pollution's source had been destroyed. As long as they could purge the lingering taint from their spirituality, there would be no further danger.
"Still breathing," he muttered, "Well, mostly."
With little ceremony, he descended and grasped both players with telekinesis, lifting them like sacks of trash. He flew again, this time heading for the heart of the island, the still-glowing epicenter where the grey-and-golden rain had struck deepest.
Landing at the edge of the crater, William unceremoniously dropped the two infected players into the middle of the spiritual fallout. The rain's residue would either cleanse them… or break them completely.
"There," he said, brushing dust from his clothes, "Fixed or ruined, no longer my problem."
He gave the area one final glance. Still hummed faintly with purifying energy, a solemn echo of the battle's end. Then, without a word, he turned away.
With a beat of his wings, he rose into the air once more, heading toward the [Liberator]. Where the girls were already waiting.
His mission here was finished.
Whatever remained would be left to the rain.
…
Several minutes earlier, as William still battled fiercely on the distant island, the atmosphere aboard the [Liberator] remained deceptively calm.
Kei leaned against the ship's railing, her gaze steady through a pair of binoculars aimed toward the horizon. The wind tugged gently at her white hair, but her composure remained unshaken, tense beneath the surface, her eyes sharp and unreadable.
Beside her, Rei reclined lazily on the wooden deck, her back propped against the railing as she idly stroked her newly awakened wings. The red feathers gleamed under the morning sun, and with a slight flick, she stirred the air with a casual flap.
"How long has it been now?" Rei asked, smirking as she lifted into a short hover, "An hour?"
"Thirty-seven minutes," Kei replied without lowering the binoculars. Her tone was flat, but her voice betrayed a subtle tightness, "Almost exactly."
Rei chuckled softly, drifting back down and folding her wings behind her like twin blades slipping into sheaths, then unceremoniously widen them again and floating away once more, "You're counting again? You worry too much, Sister. Will can handle himself." She said boredly.
"I'm not worried," Kei retorted, though the slight tightening of her grip on the binoculars told otherwise, "Just being cautious."
"Sure, sure." Rei grinned and stretched, clearly unconvinced.
Kei said nothing more, scanning the island with practiced focus. Then her body stiffened. She leaned in, adjusting the lenses sharply.
"...What's that?" Kei murmured, narrowing her eyes.
Rei paused mid-stretch, looking up curiously, "What do you see?"
"An arrow… no, several of them," Kei said slowly, surprise clear in her voice, "William fired several arrows into the sky! I mean, only him will do something like that right?"
She frowned, "Taboo creatures shouldn't have the ability to think clearly, or even a reason to do this showy display…"
Rei landed beside her, curiosity piqued. She dismissed the thin aura on her wings with a thought and folded them neatly as she reached for the binoculars, "Why would he shoot upward?" Rei said, ignoring her sister's other comments.
"I don't know yet," Kei replied softly, handing the binoculars over, "Here, look."
Rei lifted the binoculars and let out a soft breath, "Oh…"
In the distance, golden-gray light bloomed like inverted fire. The swirling energy expanded into the sky, and then, rain. Gentle, radiant droplets began to fall, slow and mesmerizing.
"The arrows… created rain?" she asked, awed, "That's beautiful. But it feels strange too."
Kei nodded quietly, "It must be his Mystic power. Purifying the island, or at least, cleansing the taboo creature."
Rei tracked the spectacle through the lenses, captivated, "Is it dangerous? The glow feels peaceful, but also… empty and desolate? Like something sacred and wrong all at once."
"Shouldn't be dangerous for him, and knowing his title," Kei murmured thoughtfully, "it's both."
For a moment, the twins fell silent, captivated by the shimmering spectacle enveloping the island in distant, surreal beauty. Their expressions mirrored each other perfectly, wonder, admiration, and a faint, shared unease.
Rei finally lowered the binoculars, handing them back to Kei with a thoughtful hum, "Whatever he's doing… he's definitely winning."
Kei accepted them, her tense shoulders relaxing slightly, though her gaze remained fixed on the island, "Let's hope so. We'll stay ready in case anything follows."
Rei laughed lightly, stretching her arms above her head as she leaned back against the railing again, "Always alert, sis. Always cautious."
"My ears are growing calluses from hearing that line," she added with a grin.
"Someone has to be," Kei replied, dry as ever, though a small smile curled at her lips, "Otherwise, you'd probably fly headfirst into trouble."
Rei merely shrugged, eyes bright with amusement, "Doesn't matter, you'd be there to watch my back."
Kei sighed softly, returning her gaze toward the distant island, "Always."
As their chatter faded into companionable silence, the strange golden rain continued to gently envelop the island, leaving them both eager, and quietly anxious for William's return. For a while, the only sound above deck was the wind, and the faint hush of golden rain in the distance.
Then Rei broke the silence again, her voice turning casual, ambiguous even.
"Actually Sis, I have a question for you." Rei suddenly said. Kei's head turned slightly, sensing the shift in tone.
"What?" Kei asked.
"How does it feel?" Grinning mischievously, Rei threw the question.
Kei blinked, "Feel wha-"
But she stopped mid-sentence as the realization hit her. A blush bloomed across her face, "You shameless little cat!"
Rei cackled and took off into the air, wings snapping open as she dodged around the mast, "You're the one who was clinging to him like a lover after last night!"
"I was stabilizing his pulse!" Kei shouted back, already sprinting after her, quick on her feet, and certainly not moving like someone who'd just lost her virginity, "Don't twist the story!"
Rei darted between sails, laughing as she flew just out of reach, "Sure, sure! 'Stabilizing his pulse', Is that what the kids are calling it now?"
With a flick of her fingers, Kei's spiritual control flared, light tendrils catching Rei's ankle in midair. It wasn't powerful enough to hurt, but it stopped her just long enough.
"Got you."
A second later, Rei was dragged down and pinned, her laughter turning into shrieks as Kei mercilessly launched her counterattack, tickling!
Laughter filled the upper deck, bright and chaotic, echoing above the quiet sea.
Unseen below, deep in the cabin, the Lambs stirred from slumber. One by one, they blinked awake, eyes glowing faintly with strange warmth.
And just like that, the new morning began, beneath the lingering rain, the fading taboo, and the rising pulse of faith.
…
Soaring through the pale morning sky, William flew alone, taking his time on the return. The wind whispered softly across his wings, carrying the scent of salt and ash. The world below was quiet again, but his thoughts were far from still.
Actually, after he got the skill [Perfect Self], fragments of something else had begun to resurface, faint flashes of memory, fragmented visions, and strange emotions not from his Earth self. Last night, he'd even dreamed. Not vividly or clearly. Just some impressions, blurred scenes and muffled voices, all washed out by the haze of time.
But even in that haze, he understood something.
They were important memories for one of his self.
As the tightness in his chest and the faint ache of longing, were the only clear impression he remembered.
Sighed slowly, William continued lost in memories.
Oh, Deathwill…
A unique identity given by the system, already at Level One Extraordinary when he awoke, blessed with a class, and most notably, holding three points in Mystic, the most enigmatic and powerful stat in the known world.
William admittedly wanted to know more about his past self as 'William Deathwill'.
Whether he still had family somewhere in this vast sea though, remained a mystery. The fragments he'd recovered offered no certainty, only blurred impressions that suggested he might have shared the same fate as Kei and Rei, sold off and scattered in someone else's story… or perhaps spared of that cruelty. He had no way of knowing.
The memories offered little to anchor him, just fleeting gestures, half-formed scenes, and shadowed faces lost to time. Yet one detail stood out amid the haze: a faint thread of bloodline resonance. Only one among those distant figures shared his blood.
The rest… were strangers. Perhaps caretakers, perhaps captors. Their roles were unclear, their presence distant. All he could do was carry the weight of that uncertainty forward, step by step, until the truth revealed itself.
He still remembers the system remark about his Mystic on the first day: (Came from an extinct bloodline family with a long history).
What did it mean to come from an extinct bloodline family?
What was the legacy he had been born into… or stolen from?
Unfortunately, the memories were too fragmented to offer answers. Too blurred to give shape. But the weight of them lingered, lodged like a stone behind his ribs. For now, he could only carry them forward, one piece at a time.
As William came closer to [Liberator], the longing sense deepened. But when he felt the brush of faith from the ship, his mind steadied. It doesn't matter if he still has family in this sea. From the faint memories, there is only one person that truly matters to him, the others are not, they don't matter.
Shaking his head, William forced the wandering thought out. He wasn't sure why he felt so melancholy after a fight. Maybe something inside him had been stirred, something buried deep, shaken loose in the clash with the taboo.
But he didn't have the answer.
Flying above the ship, William sensed the Lambs already awake. They weren't doing anything in particular, just standing there, quietly gazing out across the blue expanse of sea as if waiting for him. When his shadow passed over them, their heads turned slowly toward the sky, eyes following his descent without surprise or alarm.
To an outsider, it might have seemed eerie, the way they moved in unison, silent and still. But to William, that gaze held warmth. A kind of quiet reverence. The feeling of being needed. Of being longed for. And in a world like this, that feeling was priceless.
He descended gradually, wings folding in as the deck of the [Liberator] rose to meet him. The ship rocked with the breeze, its wooden frame creaking softly, as if it too acknowledged his return.
The Lambs remained where they were, heads slightly tilted, eyes aglow in the morning light. They didn't bow. They didn't rush. They simply watched him, calm and waiting, as if their faith had never wavered.
His boots touched down on the deck, stirring a faint puff of ash still clinging to the wood from the island's distant ruin.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then, the smallest Lamb stepped forward. Her movements were hesitant, careful, bare feet padding lightly across the deck. She stopped just short of him, wide eyes shimmering with something unspoken.
William said nothing. He didn't need to.
She clasped her hands over her chest, as if holding something precious, and whispered, "...Welcome back, Master."
A breath later, the others followed, voices soft but sure.
"Welcome back, Lord."
He blinked, just once. The words were simple, but they carried weight, enough to stir something warm and quiet in the hollow space left by fading memories. Not everything in him was whole, but this… this helped.
He exhaled, "I'm back."
Then, gently, almost without thinking, he placed a hand atop the girl's head. Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she simply closed her eyes, her posture relaxing beneath the weight of his hand.
"What are the witches doing?" William asked, noticing the twins weren't on deck, though he could sense them below. Their presence pulsed faintly beneath the wooden boards, calm and steady.
After a brief pause, one of the Lambs replied softly, "I think they were cooking, My Lord. Miss Kei told us to take part in patrolling the ship while she and Miss Rei made something to eat."
"I see," William murmured with a small nod.
After the girls had tasted his cooking before, he had shared the [Basic Spiritual Food] book with Kei and the smallest Lamb. Since then, the two groups took turns preparing meals, yesterday had been the Lambs' turn, and today the twins had taken over.
He had no complaints. Any sign of routine and initiative aboard the ship was a welcome change, especially when it grew from their own decisions rather than his command. Though he held the title of their [Lord], he had no desire to micromanage every aspect of their lives. As long as they worked in harmony and no disputes arose, he would let them handle matters in their own way.
Still, now that things were starting to settle, William considered assigning clearer roles. Having a sense of structure would help them grow, and more importantly, it would reduce the risk that came from their current vulnerability.
For now, food preparation could rotate between the Lambs and the twins. But other roles needed filling, roles that were critical to the ship's safety and function. Someone would have to take the [Captain] class eventually to keep the Liberator operational even in his absence. Another could become a [Chef] to improve their meals, especially for long voyages. And above all, they needed a [Guardian] or someone strong enough to hold the deck when danger came.
Because they were still far too weak.
Whenever William left the ship, it became exposed, no one could steer it properly, and its defenses were virtually nonexistent. The twins, while capable, weren't yet strong enough to fend off real threats. And though it might sound overly cautious or even paranoid, William had seen far too much of this sea's cruelty to take any chances.
Too many creatures, curses, and twisted entities wandered these waters. And he would not lose his first followers, not to something preventable.
Having made his decision, William gently lifted the smallest Lamb into his arms, cradling her close against his chest. Her thin frame settled easily into his embrace. She opened her eyes to meet his, but perhaps overwhelmed by the proximity, or the weight of her own reverence, she quickly lowered her gaze and rested her head against his shoulder. Her breathing slowed, soft and steady, like calm water beneath the dawn.
"Come," William said to the remaining two Lambs.
Without hesitation, they followed as he made his way toward the front deck, a higher section of the ship that offered a broad view of the sea and the sky beyond.
The [Liberator] was a mid-tier large war vessel, capable of housing over fifty people comfortably on its deck. But with only six souls aboard, its vastness felt spooky, almost hollow. The echo of footsteps could vanish into the breeze before reaching the stern.
Its broad structure split into three main outdoor decks: the front deck where they now headed; the mid-deck where daily activity usually occurred, and where William had once taken Kei's virginity under moonlight; and the back deck, which held the captain's helm, entrance to the cabin quarters, and a damaged railing from the recent battle, still unrepaired.
Because of the ship's size and segmented levels, many areas were invisible from others. It gave a sense of privacy and isolation depending on where one stood, a useful quality in a sea filled with both danger and secrets.
Upon reaching the front deck, William sat down, still holding the smallest Lamb close. The two others settled beside him, kneeling patiently. The wind tugged gently at their pale hair, and for a moment, the sea whispered its calm.
William finally spoke, voice even but with the weight of command.
"I need you three to choose a class. Something that will help me… and this ship."
He paused, letting the statement settle. Next opened his inventory and took out three cards, two newly bought from the system shop.
"I've already prepared three suitable options for you three."
His gaze shifted to the second-eldest, the middle Lamb, "The first is the [Captain] class. One of you needs to take it. I can't always be here, and someone must guide the [Liberator] in my absence."
Then he turned his attention to the youngest, still in his arms. His voice softened slightly, "The second is [Chef]. You've already shown care and talent in preparing food, and this class will let you improve and feed everyone more effectively."
Finally, his eyes landed on the eldest of the three, "The third is [Dark Assassin]. I need someone who can protect others. Someone who can kill when needed, without hesitation."
The three Lambs listened quietly, their expressions unreadable. But when he finished, they all bowed their heads and replied in unison.
"We will follow your direction, Lord."
William didn't care about the title anymore. He understood now that their reverence wasn't just about power, it was about survival, about belief and hope. And if calling him "Lord" helped them feel anchored in this sea of madness, then so be it.
"Choose," he said simply.
The eldest stepped forward first, accepting the [Dark Assassin] class card without a word. William noted the glimmer of resolve in her eyes. From their connection of faith, he can feel her limit is three classes now, already at her maximum limit, and this class will be her second slot. The third will probably be used to accommodate the [Cultists] class. And she will become the ship protector using the class combination.
The middle Lamb approached next and took the [Captain] class. Her hands trembled slightly as she held it, not out of fear, but a dawning realization of responsibility.
Lastly, the smallest Lamb raised her head from William's shoulder and looked into his eyes, just for a breath, before accepting the [Chef] class card he offered her. She still had room for another class in the future, as did the middle Lamb, but for now, this would be their role.
William nodded to himself, 'Good. The pieces are beginning to move. Their potential is limited for now… but with these classes, they'll grow enough to survive in this sea.'
Just as he was about to speak again, a soft chime echoed in his interface from [Group Chat Message].
[Kei: Where are you three? Food's done.]
He raised an eyebrow, smiling faintly, 'Efficient as always.'
[William: Front deck. I'm back, the Lambs are also here.]
A moment later, he sensed a ripple of surprise from below. Then, a flutter of movement as Kei emerged, floating a tray of steaming food above her hand, using the help of a spell. Beside her, Rei manipulated the rest using her blood control, guiding floating dishes with surgical precision and casual flair.
The twin witches landed together, looking from the Lambs to William.
Rei blinked, cocking her head, "You're already back? So fast."
William gave her a look, "Yeah, the monster is too weak for me."
She smirked but said nothing, while Kei offered a quieter smile and began setting the dishes down with a soft nod.
The morning, though far from ordinary, had begun to feel like something close to normal.
As the plates were set and the warm scent of cooked food mingled with the salty breeze, William looked at the quiet gathering before him, three Lambs with newfound paths, and two witches whose presence had become a constant anchor in his world.
They sat together beneath the pale morning sky, surrounded by nothing but sea and silence, their ship rocking gently like a cradle in the tide.
It was a small thing. A quiet meal. A brief moment of stillness in a world filled with monsters, madness, and Myth.
But to William… It was enough.
For now.
He leaned back slightly, closing his eyes just for a breath, letting the warmth of the rising sun brush against his skin, letting the sound of laughter and clinking bowls echo across the deck.
The storm had passed.
The hunt was over.
And though the sea remained uncertain, for this fleeting instant, the world felt whole.