Chapter 730: Ghost Ship
The letter from the Joya Kingdom turned out to be an official invitation.
To thank them for eliminating the remnants of the Petryula Gang and capturing its leader, Peter Liulla, the King of Joya wished to personally receive Rhodes and Mira at the royal palace and present them with formal gifts of gratitude.
It seemed Melomee had kept her word, Mermaid Heel had indeed given full credit for the victory to the two of them.
Rhodes understood well that rebellion was a serious crime, but he hadn’t expected Joya to treat the matter with such weight.
For a kingdom to invite foreign magicians to its palace as honored guests was rare, it could even stir diplomatic complications if mishandled.
He turned to Mira. "Joya Kingdom, huh? What do you think, should we go?"
Mira thought for a moment. "It’s hard to refuse a king’s invitation, isn’t it? Besides, we already planned to travel abroad. Adjusting our route a bit won’t hurt."
Her attitude toward royalty differed from Rhodes’s; she naturally believed that even foreign kings were due proper respect.
Rhodes had no objections. Their original itinerary had included the Pegrande Kingdom and the Bellrum Kingdom, but adding one more stop didn’t matter.
After all, they’d earned quite a bit of spending money recently, and there were no pressing matters at Fairy Tail demanding their return. A few extra days wouldn’t hurt.
After discussing it over, the couple agreed there was no reason to decline. Happily, they adjusted their travel plans.
Of course, their vacation at Mermaid Heel continued as planned.
On the fifth day of their beach getaway, the two decided, on a whim, to accept a mission for fun.
Being a coastal city, most of the requests on Mermaid Heel’s board involved the sea: tracking schools of fish, hunting sea monsters, escorting shipments, investigating smuggling routes, and so on.
The one they picked was simple in premise, a maritime rescue mission.
It was unusual, though: no client name, no details on the cause of distress, and no fixed reward. Mélomee explained that such "emergency postings" were common along the coast. Whenever someone sighted trouble at sea or intercepted a distress signal, they immediately reported it to the guild for immediate response.
Distress signals usually came from flares or magical communicators.
Rhodes himself carried a similar item: an emergency contact card crafted by Cana. When one side activated it, the paired card would pulse faintly, signaling the direction of the other.
However, these cards only showed direction, they couldn’t transmit voices or precise coordinates.
Because of that limitation, maritime rescues could only estimate general distance and bearing, with little time for further coordination. Rewards were negotiated after a successful rescue.
"Here, take this," Mélomee said, handing Rhodes a fist-sized crystal orb. A tiny red dot blinked near the edge of its glassy surface, indicating the direction of the stranded ship.
Rhodes studied the runic symbols swirling inside. "So this one shows three-dimensional bearing as well?"
"Exactly," Mélomee nodded. "The guild can loan you a ship or a small airship, but if either gets damaged, you’ll be responsible for repairs."
Rhodes declined without hesitation. "No need, we’ve got our own way of getting there."
Neither he nor Mira had a license to operate an airship, and hiring a pilot would only waste time. It was faster to fly under their own power.
Roughly fifty nautical miles off Mermaid Bay, the sky dimmed. A thin fog rolled across the surface of the sea.
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A fully loaded cargo vessel tore through the mist, its engines straining at full throttle.
A gaping hole had been blasted open in its starboard hull, scorch marks blackening the splintered edges. Crates and barrels littered the deck, and several large boxes bobbed in the churning sea behind.
The propellers roared at maximum power. The helmsman wrestled the wheel while the lookout’s frantic shouts echoed from the mast.
The captain barked orders, directing the crew to return fire with the ship’s cannons.
Explosions thundered across the fog-shrouded waters, geysers of seawater slamming against the hull and rocking the vessel violently.
Their opponent? An old, wooden sailing ship, nothing more than a relic by comparison.
And yet, blue phosphorescent light pulsed along its hull. Its tattered sails bulged unnaturally against the wind, propelling it faster than any modern ship could manage even with the wind.
"Damn it all, the ghost ship legend’s real after all!" the captain cursed.
But he had no time for superstition. "Hold fast! Once we break out of the fog, we’ll be safe! I’ve already sent a distress signal, stay focused!"
It was an old saying among sailors: ghost ships came with the mist, and only by escaping the fog’s boundary could one survive their pursuit.
But truthfully, most stories ended with the same line, the ship was never seen again. The few who claimed to have escaped were liars or drunkards.
The captain left that part out. Right now, his men needed courage, not truth. Inwardly, he prayed that a Magician would answer their distress call soon.
’If I live through this,’ he swore silently, ’I’m done with sea transport. It’s airships for me from now on.’
Boom!
A deafening explosion rocked the deck. The first mate shouted over the din, "Starboard hit! We’re taking water!"
"Pump it out! Seal the breach!"
Crewmen scrambled below deck, and amid the chaos, the ship’s speed faltered. The ghost ship closed in.
Grinding his teeth, the captain made the decision he’d dreaded. "Prepare to aband..."
"Report! Something’s flying toward the ghost ship!"
The lookout’s voice crackled over the megaphone. Cheers erupted. The crew assumed it meant an airship, reinforcements at last!
The captain shouted, "Large vessel or small?!"
"No ship, sir!" the lookout stammered.
"What do you mean, no..."
The captain dashed aft and froze midstep.
A man with wings was soaring through the fog, carrying what looked like a woman in his arms.
’What the hell... are they sacrificing someone to it?!’
Before he could process what he was seeing, the winged man hurled the woman downward, straight toward the ghost ship.
A cloak of shadow unfurled behind her, and flames ignited at her feet.
They weren’t normal flames, they were jet-like, blasting downward with fierce propulsion.
In the blink of an eye, the woman became a blazing comet, streaking through the mist with a trail of fire.
She drew back her fist. The sea wind howled.
Then;
Boom!
Her punch slammed through the ghost ship’s mast like it was paper, the force detonating through the hull. Wood shattered. Fire erupted.
For an instant, a crimson explosion bloomed across the sea like a giant peony of flame.
The ghost ship, so massive and ominous a moment ago, split cleanly in two. Cracks raced across its hull like spiderwebs.
A wailing sound echoed across the waves. Then, before the stunned sailors’ eyes, the ship dissolved into motes of black-violet light.