The sea stretched wide and cloudless, wind full in the sails. The Crimson Typhoon surged forward with purpose, cutting through the sun-dappled waves like a beast with a destination in its blood. Above deck, I sat in quiet meditation, the sea breeze curling around my tongue—carrying salt, sun, and a whisper of ember coil fire.
Sending a wave of intent into the spirit bracelet, I withdrew the colossal spire crab's core crystal. My fingers traced the jagged cerulean edges. The crystal pulsed with torrents of compressed water essence, slow and cold and strong.
A relic of the beast felicity and I had felled. This beast would be my defensive foundation. If it my Intent and peaceful aura could tame it. Felicity phased halfway into view from the deck shadows, eyes glinting with curiosity. "You're thinking about a third," she said. "I need a defensive pillar," I murmured. "To balance the attack and speed foundations." I closed my eyes and focused my Intent.
The ember coil foundation swirled within me like a blast furnace—radiating heat and violent flare. The storm claw raptor was a swift blade, arcing through my veins—speed, lightning, explosive reversals. But neither helped me endure. Not when dodging or trading a hit could mean death.
And so, I reached inward—and then deeper—let my Intent flow into the spire crab's crystal, slowly, wisp of Intent by wisp of intent. The world shifted. I beheld the creature's spirit—immense and coiled, locked in a thousand rings of bone-hardened patience. It resisted all that touched it with an unyielding stubbornness. Not just durability—reactive defense. The spire crab could absorb compressed kinetic force, trap it within its shell, and repurpose it—layer by layer—into spiritual armor.
A living fortress.
A spiral tyrant.
My intent surged involuntarily, trying to mimic the compression pattern. My back arched. Bones creaked. My veins flared crimson-blue. Then—a flash. I exhaled, heartbeat thundering. Just enough. I pressed the jagged Spire Crystal to my chest. The shard liquefied. It sank into his sternum, flooding my spiritual lake with cold pressure. My breath locked. The ember coil raged. The storm claw raptor roared. And now the third—a colossal weight of stillness—settled within.
I clenched my teeth as waves of resistance rippled through my body. Not pain—compression. Like being compacted into a pearl. Like the pressure of the ocean itself pushing in on me.
My limbs trembled as my meridians opened! My spiritual gates were now taking in an even greater abundance of qi from the spirit world that I could compress into new spiritual muscle. With absorbing this defensive core I had received spiritual knowledge from the colossal spiral tyrant. A radiant crust bloomed across my skin—but only briefly. It cracked, then dissolved—sinking inward.
And then came the new form. Lustrous shoulder ridges emerged Subtle, obsidian-blue ridges formed along the top edges of my shoulders and collarbones—smooth and symmetrical like a warrior's mantle. Not bulky—no, the armor plates were so sleek they were like armored tattoos. I gained Crystalline V-ridges along my ribs and hips, faint, pearl-sheen lines shimmered where the carapace energy settled beneath my skin, forming natural guard-points. When activated,
they could harden briefly to repel strikes. A new sigil formed on my back between the shoulder blades—A stylized Spire shell, symbolizing my bond with the Spire Crab. But It wasn't just for looks, it was designed to pulse when I absorbed kinetic damage. When defending or taking heavy hits, a translucent spirit carapace would now flicker into being—not crustacean, but elegant. Like layered hexagons of glassy-blue light forming partial barriers across my arms, back, or torso.
I gasped, shoulders rolling- I had gained a spirit carapace armor that activated on critical hits!
My skin still steamed with residual spirit glow. The ocean wind couldn't cool the glow seething from my skin—crimson-blue flickers danced along the newly formed lines that ran across his shoulders and ribs, pulsing with latent power. Felicity rushed to me. Her form blinked fully into visibility as she crossed the deck in a blur, bare feet skimming the planks. In an instant, she was in his arms—no hesitation. She pressed against him, arms wrapping tight around my chest, breath catching. "You've become gorgeous," she whispered, her new silver eyes wide with delight and hunger.
Her fingers trailed along the obsidian shoulder ridges, then down to the shimmering sigil on my spine.
"All this armored skin and glow and raw kinetic defense? Ugh." She laughed against my neck, warm and electric. "You're like a storm-god dressed in crab silk. I'm obsessed." I wrapped my arms around Felicity and raised an eyebrow, "You mean you weren't already?" "I was," she said, nipping at my jawline. "But now I might never let anyone else touch you. Ever." She leaned back, just slightly, admiring me like a masterpiece rediscovered.
"Can I bite you? Not hard. Just enough to leave a memory." I smirked, pulling her closer. "Only if you survive what happens after."
A beat passed. Then she grinned like a blood-drenched sunrise. "Deal."
Sallow was first to speak, leaning on a mop like it might steady him, "By the beast's balls… What did you just become, Quartermaster?" I turned slightly, the sun catching on the azure crystalline etched into my new body, refracting off the fine ridges of his now-toughened skin—no full carapace, but a sheen like liquid shell glass shimmered closely over me. Crimson seams ran down my ribs like armor forged from coral flame.
Barkley, one of the riggers, stepped forward, squinting. "That a spiral tyrant core? You bonded with it?" "Looks more like it bonded with him," someone else muttered.
I laughed, " very funny Piety" as I cracked my neck. The sound was like stone flexing.
"He's got glow threads now," muttered Vetch, a lanky scout, "Look at his veins." "A defensive foundation" said one of the ship's cooks, hands on her hips. "About time someone on this boat could take a hit and not need Felicity to stitch them back together." Felicity smirked from where she perched on a barrel, still watching me like a cat that had just claimed its mate in full view of the village. "He doesn't just tank hits now," she said, licking her fang with a flash of tongue. "He drinks them."
"...Hells," Sallow muttered. "He's not just a cultivator anymore. He's a damn walking shipwreck." There was a beat of silence. Then Riggs' voice rang down from the quarterdeck. Calm. Sharp. "Back to work, you slack-bellied sea dogs. He might be your quartermaster—but he's still not the sea herself."
"But he glows, Cap'n!" "I glow when I drink enough rum. Get moving." Laughter rippled through the crew. But there was a new weight to the glances they threw Ash's way now. Not just respect. Something close to reverence. Just then—a sharp, high cry from the crow's nest: "Sails! Three sets! Starboard and port stern!"
All heads snapped skyward. The lookout spun the scope down to his eye, voice tightening. "They're gaining—slowly. Maybe half a knot behind. But they're riding hard." Riggs turned, the wind catching his coat as he strode toward the helm. I followed his gaze—there, etched against the horizon in shadow and sunlight: three dark sails, wide-keel pirate ships. Each bore a different flag, but they all shared one thing—no merchant markings. Felicity stood now, her eyes narrowing. "Delta remnants?" "Could be," I muttered. "Or worse—others chasing the inheritance." Riggs took the wheel with steady hands. "They've kept enough distance to avoid showing colors. But they're following wind just right.
Staying just out of arrow range. They want us boxed in when we hit land." A murmur passed through the crew, tension coiling again. Sallow grunted. "So much for a quiet sail." "They won't strike at sea, not unless they think we're weak," Riggs said. "They're waiting to see where we go. Let them." I felt my new foundation hum beneath my ribs—like a tide curling inward. I cracked my knuckles, and a faint shimmer of protective spirit shell danced up my forearm. "They can watch all they want," I said. "When they catch us—they'll wish they hadn't."
Felicity's smile was all fangs.