Crook catches the huge kanabō falling onto the ship and looks at the Minotaur attacking Kal with his horns. “Hey! You forgot this.” In one fluid motion, he hurls the kanabō back toward its rightful owner.
Above Kal’s smirk widens as he observes the Minotaur’s decision to switch places with his own kanabō. “Pride before fall.” He remarks as he shifts his stance. With the weapon now hurtling towards the ship, Kal readies himself to seize the advantage and turn the tables in his favor. In his mind, he envisions devouring the mindless Minotaur, eliminating his first foe with the void sphere. Later, work his way down Crook’s crew, one by one, until his ultimate goal is achieved.
A surge of void mana crashes upon the Minotaur, causing his horns to quiver, then crack a bit. The small crevices spread as he approaches the sphere. A sharp pain makes Minotaur regret his decision. Helpless to halt his momentum, he hurtles closer to Kal. In a matter of seconds, the sphere would shatter the Minotaur, reducing him to nothingness, and allowing Kal to refocus on his primary objective: Crook.
As Kal hears Crook’s voice intruding on his sweet victory from a distance, he pivots to witness the kanabō crashing into the Minotaur. A smirk graces Kal’s face as he addresses Crook, remarking, “Ah... it seems you do value your passengers after all.”
Similar thoughts crossed the Priestess’ mind as she abruptly ceases her attack, directing her attention towards Crook. She instantly berates herself for squandering her charged energy, realizing that Crook was preoccupied with the unimportant task of picking his nose instead of focusing on the ongoing battle.
“Sure.” Crook shrugs, while the Minotaur spirals farther away from the atmosphere of the ship, into the vastness of space. “What are we talking about again?”
The Priestess intones with solemnity, her voice resonating through the air, “Holly mother, heed our plea, In this hour of our dire need. Bestow your guiding hand, for we shall worship thee, Forever bound by your blessed decree.” With conviction, she extends her hand forward, a gesture of supplication.
A mystical floating hand emerges, halting the Minotaur’s spiraling motion, and extends itself for a handshake. The Minotaur fixes a steady gaze upon the hand, taking a full minute to assess it before emitting a disapproving snort in response.
“Is this really the time to recruit?” Crook clicks his tongue in disapproval, expressing his dissent.
Priestess seizes the opportunity to retort, grabbing Minotaur by the horns. Despite the weight and challenge, she valiantly strives to bring the hefty Minotaur back on board, while Crook remains motionless, unfazed, and unwilling to lend a hand. “You, of all people, have no right to lecture me!” she hisses back at Crook. “And that is how the gospel works...”
Crook playfully winks at the Priestess, which causes her to cringe away, lose her concentration, and nearly drop the Minotaur. Annoyed by his distraction, she turns away from Crook, redirecting her attention to Kal, who remains engrossed in charging his attack for whatever purpose the enigmatic black orb serves.
Having regained his composure, the Minotaur repositions himself with his weapon, once again finding his place inside the protective layer of the ship. Just as he prepares to launch a counterattack, Kal vanishes, leaving no trace behind.
A sudden shift from a heavy Minotaur to an even heavier kanabō lifts Priestess off the ground and into outer space. She sores past the Minotaur on her way out as he ignores her screams for help.
“Just let go, you damn bunny.” Crook yells before he, too, disappears into thin air.
Beneath the ship’s hull, Crook taps his finger against his elbow, as if he has been awaiting Kal’s arrival for quite some time. He raises his hand and deflects a mana blast. From the opposite side of the blast, Kal materializes, impressed by Crook’s agility. “You’re fast,” he compliments Crook. “But a goal without a plan is merely a wish.” With those words, Kal propels himself away, gathering energy for another mana blast. The void sphere, with no intervention from Kal, draws in on both Kal’s void mana and its surrounding void mana as it spins internally, growing stronger by the second. To buy more time, Kal keeps Crook busy in the conversation. “Do you even know who you are up against?” Kal remarks.
Once more, Crook reappears at Kal’s intended destination ahead of him. “I think so!” Crook deflects yet another Mana blast. Kal pauses his advance, altering his path in a zig-zag pattern, while Crook repositions himself at the next location Kal plans to strike. “The true question is... Do you?”
As they both make their way back to the mainmast, Kal’s sphere pulsates with ominous energy. Crook discovers the Priestess engaged in self-healing, while the Minotaur remains indifferent, ignoring her frustrated growls directed at him. Both were blissfully unaware of the situation.
“Time to pay the Void maker,” Kal declares, raising his hands high. The sphere ceases its internal rotation and begins spinning in all directions, causing a visible indentation in its vicinity as it expands. With each passing moment, the dent grows larger, accompanied by the ominous growth of the black hole within. “Welcome to the void,” Kal utters, a chilling smile gracing his face, his expression filled with dark satisfaction.
Now the Priestess notices her gaze fixed upon the sphere tearing through the ship’s protective barrier, a sense of impending doom overwhelming her. The realization hits her, causing her hands to fall apart, ceasing her attempts to heal herself: What is the point of healing the dead?
Crook hops closer and stands beside the Priestess. “Geez! Are you always this dramatic?” He remarks, patting her over the shoulder. “Never lose hope,” he reassures her and steps away
In a sudden transformation from self-pity to unbridled fury, the Priestess redirects her anger towards the captain, unleashing her wrath during these final fleeting moments. “This is your fault!” she shouts, enraged, determined to make Crook feel the weight of his insolence. She lunges at him, attempting to knock him off his feet.
Crook hops and evades the Priestess’s leg swipes with ease. “My, my... that’s not very holy of you,” he remarks with a hint of amusement that tugs at his lips.
“What’s so funny?” The Minotaur towers over Crook, his deep voice, and imposing height, creating an even more noticeable contrast, which made Crook feel smaller than usual.
“You see…” Crook tried to explain as Priestess and Minotaur pin him from both sides. “I quoted her preaching to her.” He squeaks out the last bit.
“CAPTAIN!” The elephant’s voice booms from below.
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