Despite Isu’s violent reaction, The Mustang’s crew treated Ranma’s transformation with respectful curiosity, which they didn’t expect from pirates. It was either a sign that Captain Ikka kept them disciplined and mindful of bodily autonomy or that Furinkan High was a cesspool, if not a combination of both. In fact, more than a couple members of the crew asked if Ranma could teach them how to do it. As awkward as those conversations were, Ranma wasn’t prepared for how many pirates casually propositioned them for…more intimate “discussions”.

  After the simultaneous fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh such rejected proposal, Ranma found Akane and stuck with her, hoping her presence would act as a deterrent. Akane looked like she wanted to say something, but smiled and ended up holding Ranma’s hand. He looked at it, then her smiling, lightly blushing face, and let it happen, albeit with far more blushing.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t work: as they walked through the infirmary to meet and apologize to the pirates they’d beaten up earlier, they met a tall, muscular woman named Rosseiu. Her injuries were minor, apparently acquired during a friendly brawl with that Whoop guy. It didn’t take long for her to lean forward and ask “Do you think you’d be willing to show me your transformation in detail somewhere private?” with gleaming eyes.

  Panicking, Ranma practically hid behind Akane, despite their height difference in his male body. “Ah-ha, no thank you, Akane here is actually my fiancée.”

  Said fiancée rolled her eyes and looked back at him with a smirk. “What happened to ‘the engagement doesn’t exist here’?” She chided playfully.

  Glowering at her, he quietly hissed, “Please back me up, I’ve been putting up with this since we came on board.”

  Rosseiu’s smile actually broadened as she looked the Tendo heir up and down. “Oh! Well you’re absolutely invited too!”

  Were they on a steamship, the heat generated by Ranma and Akane’s faces could have powered it for the next decade. Both of them stammered their objections or rejections, to which Rosseiu waved a hand dismissively. “Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

  If there was a bright side it was that everyone respected Ranma’s rejections. He never had to refuse the same person twice, though eventually he couldn’t take it anymore and left to find somewhere he could hide from the constant propositions.

  Ranma slipped into Captain Ikka’s quarters. He expected to see her in there, it was her cabin after all. She was writing in her books and shot him an irritated glare at the interruption. He wasn’t expecting to see Shampoo, who quietly sat against the wall scowling at the ceiling.

  “Uh, hey Shampoo, mind if I sit?” The Chinese girl shot him a venomous glare, but shrugged.

  They sat together in silence, save for the scratching of quill on paper, enjoying the stillness. Until Ryoga stumbled through the door, grinning with relief. Ikka sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as the lost boy shut the door behind him and collapsed next to Ranma without asking. Ranma planned to say something until he noticed the red smear under his rival’s nose.

  “Ryoga, what’s giving you nosebleeds?” Ranma asked, not having intuited the obvious.

  Between exasperated breaths, Ryoga held up his hands defensively. “Captain, no offense, but your crew are incredibly…forward. They keep asking if I’ll…” he blushed, a fresh trickle of red dripped out of one of his nostrils, and he whisper-shouted “Sleep with them.”

  Her face went blank right before Shampoo interjected. “Yes! They did the same to me, at least ten times!” The purple-haired amazon yelled, looking expectantly at the captain. Ranma wondered exactly why she had a problem with it, considering the times he’d woken up with her naked in his bed, but he hoped she learned a shred of empathy from the experience.

  But he nodded. “Yeah that’s why I’m hiding in here too.”

  Ikka stared at them with an intense, hateful, frustrated glare, an icy gaze that penetrated their souls and sent shivers down their spines. At least until she smirked and broke, her over-the-top reaction mutating into a full-throated guffaw that lasted minutes. “Oh Empress’s tits ya’ are kids, aye?” She wiped tears from her eyes, reminding Ranma of that stupid spider.

  Drinking from a canteen, she recomposed herself and leaned forward with an amused look. “Truth now, have any a’ the crew done anythin’ beyond askin’ ya’?” Despite her laughter she had a serious edge in her voice. “I take discipline seriously on tha Mustang, so if any a’ my crew’ve been pushy or touched ya’ I wanna know.”

  The three from Nerima shook their heads. Ryoga seemed to be taking it the hardest, clearly uncomfortable just from the attention, but it’d just been polite requests for him too. “Could you at least get a message to the crew that none of us are, uh…interested?” Ranma asked. Surprisingly, she didn’t dismiss him out of hand.

  “Consider it done.” She acquiesced immediately. “Yer not just guests, yer guests who can kick our arses. If tha crew’s causin’ ya problems I’ll see to ‘em.” With that she sauntered over to her door and called in the first crew member she saw. “Tell Isu I need ta talk to ‘im, quick as ya can.” Then she returned to her desk and resumed writing.

  “Your crew sure seemed to, uh, get over us beating up a lot of their friends.” Ryoga curiously pointed out. Ranma thought it was uncharacteristically intuitive of the eternally lost boy, especially considering how frequently he jumped to the entirely wrong conclusions about things.

  Without putting her quill down, Ikka shrugged. “Ya didn’t kill anybody. Outnumbered almost two-ta-one, not a single casualty. Hell, no one was even maimed.” She stopped and looked over the expert martial artist teenagers sitting against her cabin’s wall, overwhelmed from being asked to engage in casual hookups. “All ya’ ask fer in return is a trip home. Then Isu comes at one a ya’ and ya’ dance ‘round ‘him like a fish. An’ ya’ all been cooperative, if not polite.”

  Leaning back, she turned her palms up to the ceiling. “Combine all that with the fact yer all good-lookin’, young, an’ sailing ain’t exactly the most excitin’ trade most a’ the time. If I was 20 years younger…” she trailed off and gestured at the three of them, which put a rosy sheen on their cheeks.

  Isu picked that moment to come in, providing brief respite from the captain’s heated words. “Isu, inform tha crew that the guests aren’t interested in any intimate encounters.” The first mate cocked an eyebrow at the exhausted teens, but Ikka wiggled a hand to keep his attention. “No one’s caused any problems an’ I’d like ta keep it that way, aye?”

  He gave a heartfelt if sloppy salute and pivoted back out the door. “Problem solved, kiddos. Ya’ talked ta Doc Jara yet?” They were relieved she decided to change the topic, but shook their heads. “Well, I’m busy so I suggest ya’ round up yer friends an’ have a chat with ‘er.” When they didn’t immediately get up she sighed and started writing. “Ta put it another way: get outta my cabin.”

  Kodachi hadn’t been plagued by the same issue as most of her Earthborn companions. Despite her beautiful form and skintight leotard, she exuded a toxic aura that put off even the most confident or oblivious would-be suitor, which left her gloriously unburdened as she patrolled the vessel.

  She overheard sailors talking about how her Lord Ranma fought some uppity seabound brigand in the rigging of the ship, so she took a moment to demonstrate her gymnastic expertise and leapt up into the ropes and sails. Using her ribbon like a whip, she swung around the masts and launched herself high into the air, then landed effortlessly at her destination before vaulting to the next point.

  It was a warmup, nothing more, but it suitably impressed the witless dogs that surrounded her. At the sound of applause she whirled about and looked down on them with contempt, silencing their claps without a word.

  Her brother stood on the ship’s fore, leaning against the taffrail, seemingly deep in thought. Normally she’d leave him to his pointless musing, but in this strange world she dared not alienate her closest ally. She’d still needle him though, what kind of little sister would she be otherwise?

  Landing next to him, she haughtily remarked, “Don’t tell me you’re pining for Lord Ranma now as well.” It was intended to be a joke, a cruel jab at the embarrassment he suffered from being made to kiss his nemesis. Stoic as he was, it should have gotten a response, some minor outburst of anger that only made him seem even more foolish.

  Instead, his response nearly made her collapse. “I believe so.” He said in a serious deadpan, matter-of-fact. It was a Truth, not a guess.

  “Wh-what? Despite the years you just discovered he’s been making a fool of you?” As she exclaimed and her eyes went wide, he turned and regarded her with an amused smirk.

  “Sister, he’s only made a greater fool of himself, as well as revealed to me a most hopeful element of his imprisonment of my beloved.” Kodachi tilted her head. Imprisonment? He sounded like he still thought…

  “Wait, you’re still holding on to the belief Lord Ranma and the harlot are different people?” Incredulously she peered at his face, wondering if he was desperately trying to find some sort of justification for his continued delusion.

  “Well…not for much longer.” He grinned and looked back to the sea. “He’s kept such a powerful hold over her, peering through her senses, invaded her mind, and most crucially allowed her some degree of control over him to better sell his deception.”

  Kodachi had to admit, there was logic in his words. “And consider the phrasing he used. For the past two years, when he’s told his lies it was always ‘a curse’. Now? No longer a curse, just a part of him. His deception is so thorough she has begun to bleed into him.”

  His sister frowned. If that was the case, then her Lord Ranma was being slowly poisoned by the influence of the red-haired sorceress. Though if it was a two-way connection… “Surely you’re concerned he’s affecting her as well, however?”

  “Of course. Who could last for years under the wicked spell of a cruel tormentor like Saotome?” Normally she’d punish him for speaking ill of her love, but if she was going to save Lord Ranma from the clutches of Kodachi’s nemesis she needed to know what her brother knew. “But thanks to the mistake he made today, I know that I have nothing to fear. Her love for me is so great that it will override whatever evil corrupts her, a beacon that will shine through the darkness.”

  He held his open hand up and splayed his fingers at the sky. “All she needs is a helping hand from her true love to ensure that after they battle for control more of her remains than him, and then we can finally be together.”

  That was his plan then. She had to ensure the opposite occurred, and remind Lord Ranma that he couldn’t give in to the red-headed parasite eating away at his identity. “Well then brother, I wish you luck on your endeavor.” With her polite blessing done, she hurriedly made her way back to the lower decks. No matter which body she found, she needed to remember that her Lord Ranma would see her, would remember her actions.

  In order to keep her love from falling victim to the wiles of the red-haired harlot, she would need to offer up her unconditional support to them. As he witnessed her affection, it would give him the strength needed to throw off the false Ranma’s influence. She’d never let her brother beat her when it came to love.

  Sailors flinched and watched her disappear into the ship as she let out her signature laugh.

  In the waning hours of the day, Ranma and the others finally met with Doc Jara, the woman in dingy grey robes Kuno saw talking to the captain earlier. She was the only member of the crew with her own quarters other than the captain, though it was little more than a privacy curtain surrounding a section of the ship next to the cots reserved for the wounded. Most of the cots were occupied by the sailors they’d fought earlier, so it was an awkward meeting, but that’s also where Jara kept her occult texts and instruments.

  Akane kind of expected her to be a combination of Dr. Tofu and Cologne, but she realized quickly she was more like a mad scientist. With a warbly voice that dipped and broke randomly, and an impossible to place accent, she invited them to sit if they could. “Welcome mysterious strangers, welcome. I’m Rajara Clementine, you may call me Jara. Doc Jara if you really want to fit in with the crew, but I don’t mind either way.” Her smile was creepily white and clean, especially compared to the diversity of tooth health they’d seen since coming on board the Mustang. Were they fake teeth or…? “Captain tells me you’re all not from ‘round here, aye?

  “I’ve got a few tricks for figuring things like this out. Investigating mysterious phenomena is one of my hobbies,” she grinned, flashing those oddly perfect teeth again. “Start by telling me how you ended up on the island.”

  The group looked around, collectively wondering how much they wanted to share about Earth, where to begin, or even who should speak first. Ryoga decided to take the lead, from his perspective it all began weeks ago when he started having those dreams.

  And much like when he recounted things to Hadrak in the Kuno Estate’s basement, he spared no detail. Doc Jara seemed like a patient woman but when it had taken him almost ten minutes to get to the part where Akari suggested he go to the Tendos she had to interrupt. “Sorry dear, maybe skip to the most important parts.”

  Blushing, he began instead with finding the strange stone disk that drained his ki and summoned Hadrak. A flash of recognition streaked across her face when he described the symbol on it, and she paused him to look through her documents. She pulled out a scroll and unrolled it, showing him a spread of five symbols, one of which was exactly the one he saw.

  “Ahhh, symbol of the goddess Mercury, Maiden of Journeys, one of the five Ladies of Fate.” She replaced the scroll and drummed her fingers on her chin and invited Ryoga to continue, but everyone was nervous. Even Ranma, who slayed a god-like phoenix, wasn’t keen on dealing with true gods. Especially not with names like the Ladies of Fate.

  “Don’t worry, the Incarna — greatest of gods — don’t turn their attention to the affairs of mortals too often. They’re too busy maintaining the order of nature and the heavens. Please, continue.” While her assurance didn’t make anyone feel better, Ryoga nevertheless went on to describe the spider appearing and fleeing with the artifacts.

  He skimmed over the chase through Nerima and quickly summed up the encounter at the Kuno estate, trying to remember everything Hadrak had told him. Jara didn’t know the name Liri su’Nalli, but her eyes went wide when he explained the spider told him he was meant to be the inheritor of her Exaltation.

  “The…wait, wait, wait…” Definitively shushed, Ryoga leaned back, suddenly worried. Jara mumbled to herself and paced in a small circle, mumbling to herself. “This Hadrak must have been one of the gods that tend to the Loom of Fate, are Exaltations fated in advance? Ohhhhhhhhohohohohoho that flies in the face of dogma…”

  “Uhh…miss Jara?” Ranma, ever impatient, tried to get her to focus on the conversation. “We haven’t even gotten to the important part.”

  Ryoga rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to hurry, Ranma, but she needs the important details.”

  “Saotome is right, you can ask your personal questions later.” Everyone stopped and looked at Kuno, who blushed when all eyes were on him. “Wh-what?”

  “Brother, did you just…agree with Lord Ranma?” Kodachi snickered. Her sisterly needling had the unintended effect of angering the object of her desires, however.

  “Hey! What’s with the ‘Lord Ranma’ crap?” Said object protested, scowling at the younger Kuno. “You said you get that we’re the same person.”

  Kodachi waved her arms defensively. “N-now of course I do Lor….ahem, Ranma, but my love for you remains despite your strange affliction. If ever you seek to be rid of it, however, I’ll be glad to wield the Kuno family fortune on your behalf.”

  Now everyone was staring at Kodachi for her completely unexpected show of magnanimity, though Tatewaki glared out of anger, as much at Kodachi as his own foolishness. It was a mistake to tell her his thoughts: clearly she was trying to suborn his attempt to weaken Saotome’s control so that the pigtailed girl could emerge alone, grateful to Kuno for the assistance.

  Ranma shook his head and chuckled. “Wow, if only you made that offer two years ago. Hell, a year ago I probably still would have taken it.”

  Before the conversation could continue, Jara leaned over and poked Ranma in the shoulder with some kind of pointed piece of metal and he yelped in surprise. “Sit back down, child, and let’s get back to your story. You said the important part is yet to come?”

  Pouting now that he’d been poked for something that wasn’t his fault — which honestly he was used to at this point — Ranma picked up where Ryoga left off and quickly covered the rest of the story, ending with finding the pirate cache and waiting for the Mustang to arrive.

  When it was over, the ship’s doctor stroked her chin in thought, furrowing her brow. “Impressive destroying a god’s body in a single strike,” she eventually nodded to Kuno. “Sorry to say it'll probably return in a little while, gods tend to do that if you don't kill ‘em right. And they've got long memories.” Kuno blanched knowing he'd made an enemy of a god, even a seemingly petty one like Hadrak.

  Ukyo, who'd been quiet since the revelation they weren't even on Earth anymore, finally asked the question everyone kept forgetting. “What's an Exaltation?”

  All eyes on Jara, the doctor sighed and examined her fingernails. “The Immaculate Order teaches that the only true Exalted are the Dragon-Blooded, divinely ordained rulers of Creation and chosen of the Elemental Dragons. They are generals, warriors, kings, powerful sorcerers. They are the peak of humanity and uniquely suited to dominion over mortals.” Something stopped her from continuing, a troubling thought.

  “What about Anathema?” Shampoo hazarded a guess, remembering how Whoop fearfully uttered the term on the beach.

  With a hiss-like sigh, Jara continued. “Anything that is a threat to the Order is Anathema. Rogue gods demanding obscene tribute, invaders from outside creation, demons…” she looked at Ryoga with a combination of fear and pity. “False Exalted, monsters that steal men’s souls and make them their slaves. They wield the stolen powers of the sun or moon, or are empowered by gods rebelling against Immaculate doctrine. While the Dragon-Blooded are imbued with the righteous power of the stewards of Creation, the stolen divinity of Solar and Lunar Anathema is more wicked and fearsome if left unchecked.”

  Now everyone looked at Ryoga with concern. Some like he was a ticking time bomb, others like a dead man walking, others like he was already compromised. “If it makes you feel any better,” Jara offered, sensing the shift in mood, “Anathema is a…political term. But it’s ordained by the largest religion in the world and backed by the most powerful empire of the current age.”

  Despite her words intending to comfort, panic filled Ryoga’s eyes as he wondered what he could possibly have done to deserve this. “How do I get home? I didn’t ask for this!” He rose to his feet, scared and furious.

  “Hey, Ryoga, don’t freak out, man.” Ranma put a hand on Ryoga’s shoulder, and gave him a pleading, sympathetic look. “We’ll figure this out, it’s just another crazy Sunday for all of us, right?”

  There was truth to his words, but they had the opposite effect on Ryoga. His life was far from normal, but he felt like he could attribute all of the insanity, instability, and chaos in it directly to Ranma’s influence. From his hungry days in junior high, to getting lost in China, his curse, his inability to woo Akane, the weird conflicting feelings he got whenever he thought of his erstwhile rival, and everything else that happened over the past two years he’d been in Nerima.

  Batting Ranma’s hand away, he glared into the stormy blue eyes of his rival—no, his nemesis—and growled his response. “When we get out of here I don’t want anything to do with you again, do you hear me?”

  He expected Ranma to get defensive, maybe yell back at him, but instead he just narrowed his eyes in frustration and sat back down next to the woman they both loved. “Sure thing Ryoga. Once we get home.” If Ranma was hurt he didn’t show it, but he must have sat so close to Akane just to make Ryoga jealous.

  “All this worry about Anathema might not be warranted,” Jara interjected. “Exactly how or why the Exalted are chosen is a mystery. Do you have any natural attachment to one of the five elements, perhaps? Fire, earth, water, hmm?”

  Ryoga could tell she was grasping for hope, but he appreciated it nonetheless. “Uh…my relationship with water is…” he glanced nervously at Akane and chose his words carefully. “Complicated. But I’ve spent a lot of time in the wilderness and in tunnels.”

  “Fantastic!” The doctor exclaimed, ecstatic she could hold onto something. “No reason to be concerned then. Dragon-Blooded are heralded as Princes of the Earth in every corner of Creation, it makes sense that a god of fate would know your appointed time.”

  Despite her optimism, Ryoga felt uneasy. Swirling images of demons and evil gods taking over his mind and making him some sort of servant haunted him, as did the memory of fighting Shampoo and Mr. Saotome when they were mind-controlled by Saffron’s eggs. He couldn’t let that happen to him.

  Unfortunately, Jara didn’t have an answer for them about how to get home. She didn’t even fully understand how they’d ended up here. Gesturing at her small collection, she invited them to peruse it at their leisure, though frowned when they reminded her they couldn’t read them.

  As the sun drifted below the horizon, the smell of cooking food wafted out of the galley and the teens were reminded that it’d been almost a full day since any of them had eaten. Without any responsibilities on the ship, they were first in line after the injured crew for food. The meal was simple: boiled rice, orange slices, and pan-fried breadfruit.

  It wasn’t bad food, but it was utterly lacking in seasoning. “Not even any salt? My dad made tastier meals when we were poor on the road.” Ranma complained, provoking a few glares from the crew and, surprisingly, Kuno.

  “Salt is a luxury, Saotome,” he chided between eager mouthfuls. “If there’s any on board, doubtless it’s packed up to be sold.”

  What stung Ranma wasn’t that Kuno just scolded him, but that he was met with approving nods from the crew. Ranma always assumed people only put up with him and his sister because of their father’s status and wealth, but he dreaded a place where, bereft of his normal privileges, Kuno still managed to attract a following.

  Ryoga’s ears perked up after Kuno’s response, and he tilted his head. “I’ve got some salt in my bag—” he managed to get out before everybody in the cramped mess hall whirled to look at him with wide, hopeful eyes. A strangled grunt escaped his lips as Whooping Ram clapped a heavy, hairy hand on his shoulder.

  “Beggin’ yer pardon, good sir, but would ya’ be so kind as ta share yer bounty with us?” Shimmering yellow eyes pleaded with Ryoga. With a beleaguered sigh he stood and made his way to the captain’s quarters.

  “Thanks sugar!” Ukyo called after him.

  If the crew had been friendly before, Ryoga’s gift amplified their goodwill tenfold. Nobody offered to satisfy him carnally, but several sailors gave him portions of their beer rations, and even a few small cups of rum ended up in front of him. With his inhuman fortitude he was able to accept it all without any issues, but his face was red by the end of the evening.

  Awkwardness gave way to song and the din of hearty chatting, mostly directed at the guests of honor. The pirates were fascinated by stories of Earth, even if some seemed skeptical. Some just assumed they were referring to some heavenly realm, despite their protests that life was anything but heavenly.

  Being sailors, one of the things that interested them the most was that Earth was round. While Ranma and the others were busy trying to conceive of a world that was flat, Kuno got into a strangely intense conversation with the ship’s navigator, a stocky woman whose curly red hair was woven into rows of tight braids and decorated with colorful wood and stone ornaments. After Kuno began describing the instruments used to navigate on Earth, she brought in her equipment and he marveled at their construction.

  “So, what’s beyond the edge of the world?” Akane asked Doc Jara, who gave her a dark look.

  “Nothing good, girl,” she chewed on a piece of breadfruit to collect her thoughts. “The world is held in place by five elemental poles. The Pole of Air to the North, the Pole of Wood to the East, the Pole of Fire to the South, the Pole of Water to the West. On the Blessed Isle, at the center of the world, is the Pole of Earth. The closer you get to one of the poles the more its element overwhelms everything else, but the farther you get from the Pole of Earth the greater the influence of the endless Wyld warps reality.”

  As Jara invoked the word, the volume of the room quieted and the sailors turned their attention to her. This was no mere superstitious anxiety, however, but a practical, learned fear. “There are…malevolent intelligences in the Wyld, who hate us for our structured existence. The Fair Folk.” Some pirates mumbled protective mantras or made hand symbols at the mention, but nobody stopped the doctor.

  “They shrink the boundaries of Creation like a foreign army. It’s the duty of the Wyld Hunt, priest-led task forces from the Immaculate Order, to contain them, to beat them back and defend the world.” She gestures at Akane and the others. “We were worried, when you first arrived, that you were Wyld infiltrators, some sort of new tactic.”

  Crossing her fingers on the table in front of her, she narrowed her eyes. “Know that if we were right, we will fight to our last to end you.” A chill settled over the room, and even though the strangers from Nerima handily defeated the crew earlier, they were worried about what the pirates were capable of.

  Fortunately, Captain Ikka broke the tension. “Awright ya’ cheery lot, no threatenin’ the guests!” She bellowed, and the mood became jovial again, all dark thoughts seemingly forgotten. “Oy, the lot of ya’, come with me,” she impatiently waved the teens to her and marched them out of the mess hall.

  Up on deck, with the soft breeze cooling them after being stuck in a crowded, rowdy room for hours, the exhaustion of their day started to catch up with them. It was mid-afternoon when Hadrak plucked them out of their reality, depositing them on a deserted island just before dawn. They’d finally eaten after more than an entire day and now sleep greedily called to them.

  “Apologies fer Doc Jara, she’s jus’ tryin’ ta make a point.” Stretching, she gazes up at the waxing gibbous moon. “Gonna be honest, there’s Fair Folk patrollin’ tha waters these days.”

  “The monsters that hate us for existing?” Kodachi drawled, somehow managing to sound unimpressed. “Is that surprising, given what your dramatic doctor told us?”

  Ikka’s matronly glare did little to soften Kodachi’s attitude, but she didn’t bother addressing it. “Wanted ta warn ya’ is all. They’re monsters but they can wear humanoid shapes when they’re in Creation. Constraints of a shaped existence, I suppose. If yer unlucky enough ta be stuck on tha Mustang when they attack, iron weapons work against ‘em tha best. Hard ta keep iron from rustin’, so we got a few pieces locked up in my cabin. Yer the best fighters on tha ship, I’d consider it a favor if ya’ help us repel ‘em if it comes ta that.”

  Before anyone could ask a follow up, she chuckled. “‘Course, if ya’ don’t help yer all gonna end up dead anyhow. They don’t offer quarter, an’ they only take prisoners to torture and consume. They don’t need our supplies or our resources, they jus’ wanna destroy.”

  If she expected to scare them, nobody showed it. Ranma and Shampoo even grinned. “We’ve taken on weird monsters before,” the currently-male pigtailed martial artist grinned. “Leave it to us.”

  The Chinese amazon didn’t bother to respond, but she was looking forward to an excuse to fight something. She’d woken up anxious and prepared for a potential fight in Akane’s home, pursuing Hadrak was mostly a chase. Even the pirates they fought earlier went down so fast the fight may as well not have happened, and she felt obligated to hold back so as not to upset anyone.

  Monsters, however? Monsters that were hell-bent on killing her and her airen? If they would give no quarter, neither would she. Hopefully the captain had iron chui in her private armory, or at least a jian.

  Ikka nodded, her gratitude obvious in the moonlight. “Thank ya’. Hopefully it won’t come ta that, but I’m glad ta have yer word.”

  After a few more pleasantries, Captain Ikka bid them good night and headed for her cabin. Tired as they were, Ryoga and the others made for the hammocks, hoping to secure some close to each other, and did their best to get ready to sleep.

  Nobody expected sleep would come easy, but between their extended day, the reality-shattering revelations they’d been subject to, the fights, the food, and the comforting presence of each other — even given their histories — one by one they drifted off into deep sleep and anxious dreams.

  Isu wasn’t one to believe in bad luck, just bad coincidence. So logically, he knew when he spotted the eerie light glowing beneath the water moving toward them that it wasn’t because they’d somehow willed the fair folk into existence by invoking their names. But he couldn’t help but swear at Doc Jara for bringing them up in the first place.

  “All hands on deck!” he yelled as loudly as he could, rappelling down from his perch to ring the alarm bell. “Fair folk spotted off the starboard beam! All hands on deck!” The night crew rushed to their stations and soon the ship would be at full sail. The helmsman altered course as best he could away from the raiders, but their magical ships were faster and more maneuverable than the Mustang could handle. They would be boarded.

  Well before any of the daytime crew made it to the decks, six of the visitors from another world appeared. Most of them slept in the clothes they'd been wearing, though Ranma was barefoot in his boxer shorts and tank top. “Where’s the purple-haired one?” Isu asked, looking for Shampoo.

  As if summoned, she came onto the deck already armed with a warhammer in one hand and an ararebō in the other. Isu realized none of the other martial artists bothered with iron weapons and gave them a judgemental look, which they summarily ignored.

  “Where are they?” Akane scanned the horizon, unsure of where the attack was coming from.

  The djala first mate pointed to the water. “See the glow coming at us? Their ships can travel under the surface, but they reflect moon- and starlight. On a clear night like tonight you get a few minutes’ warning thanks to the glow.”

  Kodachi watched the pursuing light and shivered. Such a casual display of otherworldly forces was unsettling, and while the crew were frightened it was the same fear one would show in the face of a mundane pursuer. This evil was commonplace, it was present in a way that myths and legends weren’t.

  “Is this all of them?” Ranma, seemingly the least bothered by it all, was stretching. The sight brought a blush to Kodachi’s cheeks and she averted her eyes.

  “No, reports say that at most three ships have been sighted at the same time,” Isu appreciated their questions, it showed that they were focused and engaged. “Look alive, their usual tactics are to breach close to the target, launch grappling hooks, and board.”

  Ryoga nodded and leapt up the crossmasts. Isu saw him remove multiple headbands (how was he doing that?), and started twirling them around his fingers. Ukyo followed suit and joined him, giant spatula at the ready. The rest of them took up positions near the ship’s railing, ready to be the first to repel boarders.

  When the Mustang’s sails were full, the glow kept closing on them but more slowly, and it was several grueling minutes before the surface of the water swelled and surged as the alien craft breached the surface. Ripples appeared like a surfacing hippo before a finlike sail sliced through the Mustang’s wake. Two more followed suit and in a spray of water the entire craft rose out of the ocean.

  Its hull flowed organically into the gossamer sails like some sort of aquatic insect. Striations along the sides gave it the appearance of wood construction, but the unnaturally smooth, glittering, glowing skin of the thing looked like a carapace. Light pulsed from inside, mimicking the color-shifting abilities of octopi.

  Once it was above water, they could tell that the “sails” were for show: it didn’t seem to interact with the wind like an ordinary vessel, moving under the power of some other force or will. The sails prevented anyone from seeing onto the “deck”, obscuring the number of opponents they’d be facing.

  By this point it was fully behind the Mustang, and it launched the first two grappling hooks once it was in range. Right before they struck the aft deck, a pair of bandanas sliced through the kelp-like rope, and Ukyo dashed across the taffrail to swat the independent hooks back into the water. The crew cheered and Isu felt a surge of hope: the only ships that survived these encounters did so at the expense of whatever vessels were with them: traveling alone was a huge risk.

  More hooks sailed through the air and met the same fate, though after the fifteenth Isu was worried that it could just generate new ones at will. He was wrong, though the alternative was much worse. Once it was clear that traditional grappling hooks wouldn’t work, it picked up speed and came closer.

  This time Ranma stepped up on the rail and gathered his hands above his head. Golden ki swirled in his palms and he screamed “Mōko Takabisha!” as a lancing beam of energy erupted from his hands at the bow of the pursuing vessel.

  Frustratingly, despite the obvious power of the blast, the sloped shape and alien construction of the Wyld-borne ship deflected the energy and it continued with unabated momentum. One of the crew leaned next to Isu and whispered, “Are we sure they’re not Exalted?”

  Before Isu could respond, the fey ship’s hull buckled and warped as four tentacles tore themselves from the sides and crashed into the Mustang, suckers adhering to the outside and wrapping around the railing. The ship groaned and shuddered as the attacking vessel partially submerged and pulled it back, and the crew pitched forward.

  Snarling and roaring, the front of the attacking ship opened up and disgorged a host of monstrosities. Each one had the basic one head, two arms, two legs configuration, but their features were a mismatched amalgamation of aquatic animals: jaws, beaks, gills, fins, and needle-like fangs. Fleshy appendages gripped wicked weapons and they were adorned in chitin-like armor, some of which looked like it had grown or attached itself to their bodies. “Hobgoblins!” Isu bellowed. “Prepare to repel boarders!” Running across the wide tentacles connecting the ships, the monsters leapt onto the Mustang’s deck…

  And the first wave was met by the four strongest fighters from Earth.

  Ranma discovered their armor was durable and just pliable enough that it wouldn’t shatter, so he concentrated on striking the unprotected skin in the gaps between pieces. Dancing around their swings and stabs he disarmed, tripped, and confused them. The occasional shout of “Kachū Tenshin Amaguriken!” when he had an opening sent a handful of the creatures overboard at once.

  While Ranma’s fast, precision strikes had to go around their alien gear, Akane’s powerful blows never failed to disorient or stun a target. At one point she grabbed one with thick, blubbery skin and swung it around like the mallet it held in its hands before flinging it back at the ship it came from. With a sickening wet thwack it bounced against the glittering hull and splashed into the inky black water.

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  Ryoga was used to his natural stamina to protect him in duels, but he was used to fighting unarmed opponents like Ranma. Against opponents wielding proper weapons, he needed to employ his umbrella and swat their blows away before crashing into them. At first it seemed like he’d be overwhelmed as a half dozen of the monsters swarmed him, but he placed two fingers on an armored shell and channeled his ki into shattering it. “Bakusai Tenketsu!” he cried as the flexible material shuddered before exploding, propelling the creature that had been wearing it through its allies like a bowling ball. His fangs glinted in starlight as he flashed a predatory grin.

  Shampoo was the true offensive champion of the battle, however. Each time her iron weapons found a target they left searing black or red wounds as the chaotic energies animated the creatures were disrupted. She sundered weapons and armor, and many of them died in a single strike, burning away into salt and ash. After two years of martial arts duels she felt like she was back in her element, a warrior in more than name once again. An ululating cry of triumph streamed out of her throat as more tried in vain to overpower her.

  Ukyo, Kuno, and Kodachi stood ready behind the first line of defense and intercepted the occasional runner trying to rush the ship. The kendoka’s strikes didn’t break skin but the waves of pressurized air knocked invaders into the water, his sister’s ribbons snatched weapons from the hands of their owners, and the okonomiyaki chef’s impressive, impractical weapon kept her safe while punishing the inhuman beasts.

  Some of the crew were so emboldened by the display that they moved forward, their own weapons at the ready, and Isu had to order them to stay back. “No! They’re handling this, keep your attention on the sides!” Especially as their primary attack met surprising resistance, he expected an assault from the sides of the ship’s hull, enemies clambering up from the depths to get around the impenetrable defense.

  His instinct probably saved their lives. A cry went up from the crew near the bow, alerting Isu of the danger, and he almost smiled knowing he’d been right. “Firewands! Blast ‘em off like the barnacles they are!” He roared at three crew members holding gleaming metal rods with triggers at the end, who rushed to railings and pointed their weapons down at the invaders scaling their ship’s hull.

  Flashes of crimson light accompanied deep whooshes of breath-like concussion as gouts of flame exploded from the barrels of their weapons. It didn’t matter how wet the fey invaders were, the intense heat of ignited firedust evaporated whatever protection the water may have offered, and the beasts shrieked in agony as they fell back into the drink.

  “Spears! Hold ‘em off while firewands reload!” With pride he watched the pirates he’d drilled and trained for years operate like a professional force. His ego may have been bruised with the appearance of the expert martial artists but knowing his crew would do their duty brought a smile to his face.

  Once more the defenders exulted in victory, and for a fleeting moment Isu allowed himself to believe they’d be the first ship to escape the bloody fate so many others had suffered.

  The first problem began as Shampoo advanced to the taffrail, engaged with at least ten of the creatures who had learned to keep her weapons away from their flesh. Only those with polearms struck at her, and if she parried one she had to immediately deal with a strike from another. Still, the ethereal material their weapons were made of didn’t last long against her onslaught, as far as she was concerned all it did was prolong the fight.

  But that was the problem. The fey ship kept submerging, and the Mustang slowed and sank as it did. A wave crashed against the port bow and a surge of water blasted over the side, drenching Akane and Shampoo. Akane wasn’t so much as inconvenienced, beyond being damp, but the clatter of iron weapons against the deck drew her attention and she saw Shampoo’s empty clothes sliding around the feet of her attackers.

  The pink cat that Shampoo transformed into was nowhere to be seen, and Akane could only hope she dashed for cover as soon as she could. “Ranma! Watch out, Shampoo got transformed!” The last thing her fiancé needed was to be surprised by Shampoo’s cursed form: the nekoken was powerful but entirely too unpredictable. After kicking a hatchet-wielding hobgoblin away from her to create an opening, she dove for the warhammer. Shampoo had her beat when it came to killing intent, but she couldn’t deny how effective the iron weapons were.

  As the ship lurched and dipped, Isu realized what was happening. The attackers were a distraction: the real goal was to drag the Mustang under the waves. “Get that ship offa us!” He barked at the martial artists, hoping they would listen.

  Akane, at least, complied immediately. After seeing some of the attackers poof into a shower of sparks and dust, she hoped the ship itself shared the same weakness as the creatures within. Flinging monsters away with the hammer, she advanced to the nearest tentacle and swung the weapon at it with unmatched ferocity.

  A black, foetid hole appeared where the hammer sunk into it. Akane expected some amount of resistance but it was like smashing an overripe melon. In her zeal the hammer went flying out into the abyss, but at least it had the intended effect.

  Light spilled out of crystalline cracks that ran down the length of the tentacle before it dissolved and fell limp, dumping the creatures sprinting along its length into the water. The other three tentacles pulled tight in response to the sudden increase in load, but they held strong: the Mustang would break first if the cracking and groaning of wood was any indication.

  Unfortunately, now the creatures were focused on Akane. They disengaged from Ranma and Ryoga and converged on her location, bloodlust in their eyes. Without a weapon she had to go on the defensive, but eventually the press of blades and claws was too much. A trident lanced into her shoulder and she let out a sickening cry as she felt it squirm under her skin before being pulled out.

  “Akane!” Ranma shouted, slamming down onto the skull of the beast about to swing its oversized cleaver-like sword at her. Akane slammed her fist into its stomach and looked for Shampoo’s other weapon. One of the hobgoblins grabbed it first, however, and flung it overboard with a menacing chuckle. They weren’t mindless monsters, but cruelly cunning raiders. Gritting their teeth, Akane and Ranma fought back-to-back, attracting the attention of the bulk of the attackers.

  This left Ryoga alone with only a handful of hobgoblins. He’d already established his Breaking Point technique worked on their armor, would it work on their vessel? After clotheslining the creature that was about to trap him in a net, he dashed to the nearest tentacle, placed a finger upon it, and concentrated his ki. “Bakusai Tenketsu!”

  For a dreadful moment, he thought nothing happened, that it was ineffective. But he noticed subtle vibrations along the rubbery appendage that began shaking faster and faster. His eyes went wide in panic and he threw himself on the ground as it exploded, taking a chunk of the Mustang along with it. His tough skin resisted most of the splinters, but a few punctures left him with a grid of tiny, bleeding wounds.

  With two tentacles gone, the remaining two were strained to their limit, stretched so tight the “skin” began to tear. But they held strong and the Mustang continued sinking. Worse, more and more hobgoblins were climbing up the ship’s sides, faster than the gunners and spearmen could manage.

  Akane fought on, heedless of her shoulder injury, dishing out earth-shattering punches and kicks while Ranma danced around her, a dervish at her back. As she delivered a roundhouse kick to an axe-wielding hobgoblin that sent it careening into the sea, however, a warm drop splattered on her cheek. Taking an instant to investigate, she saw red on her fingers and looked around her in a panic. The source was Ranma.

  Silently he’d been parrying their weapons with his bare skin. They hadn’t hit him with a clean strike yet, but the bruises and cuts were adding up. “Idiot! I’m better at group fighting than you, you don’t have to protect me!”

  She knew he wouldn’t listen to her; whether it was out of ego, concern, or lack of confidence in her, he wouldn’t let something like a few injuries stop him. “I’m not taking any chances after Jusendo!” was his only defense.

  Getting upset wouldn’t help, nor would losing her cool. He needed to focus on defending himself, not her. She’d been ignoring the burning in her shoulder, and realized it was her own ego that was getting in the way now. “Ranma! I’m hurt, get me out of here!” she cried, adding just a little bit of despair for effect.

  It worked like a charm: before she could prepare he’d scooped her up into a bridal carry and leapt up to the rigging. Even in the midst of the chaos, her heart fluttered. He looked her over once to make sure she wasn’t too badly hurt before grinning, but she cut him off before he could say anything. “Take me back down on the deck, I’ll go get weapons.” She could jump down herself, but it’d be faster this way. Plus she enjoyed it.

  He frowned but a cry from the crew forced him to grit his teeth and he dropped back down, depositing her safely as close to the stairs as possible. If he expected a hug or a kiss or something she wasn’t going to deliver, but she at least tossed a “Thanks!” over her shoulder as she dashed into the lower decks.

  Monsters were surging up over the rails on all sides of the ship now, so Ranma left the aft under the care of his Nerima peers and targeted the biggest clumps of fey attacking the crew. A dropkick launched two of the attackers off the side as he began his work, leaping in to prevent casualties, intercept any creature stupid enough to try and rush the helm, and retrieve the injured.

  It wasn’t efficient work, he bounced from place to place, abandoning thought and following the flow of combat. A pained cry directed him to the fallen, but alive, body of a gunner and the hatchet-wielding hobgoblin about to split her skull. Ignoring his own safety, he flung her toward Isu as the weapon carved through his side, tearing a hole in his tank top and splattering blood on the deck.

  Only a single grunt of pain escaped his lips as he spun with the momentum of the strike and channeled it into a haymaker. More monsters replaced their comrade, however, and once again he was surrounded. His breathing was ragged, pain seared from his toes to his teeth, and he was slowing down.

  I’m not losin’ to a bunch of evil minions in our first real fight, he thought as a determined grin spread across his face. Behind! Powering through the pain, he ducks and spins into a donkey kick, sending the trident-wielding hobgoblin flying.

  The rest of the monsters began circling, looking for an opening. They were cautious but unafraid: Ranma would teach them their mistake. Hips dropped low and his legs spread wide as he calmly shifted into a leopard style stance. Steely blue eyes narrowed and scanned his opponents.

  “Don’t you know who you’re dealin’ with?” he taunted, daring someone to attack. Pain was temporary, he pushed it aside and lost himself to the rhythm of combat.

  Arm wraps around spear. On instinct he grabs the attack meant for his gut that would have been dangerous if it was aimed at anyone else.

  Create space. Displaying surprising strength, he whirls the stolen weapon, and its wielder, in a wide arc. It batters the first row of attackers and the opponent formerly attached to it goes flying.

  “My name is Ranma Saotome!” he shouted as he hurled the spear clean through a hobgoblin unfurling a whip.

  Attacking my injured side. Predictable. Slow. Three attempted to rush him, only to be caught in a whirlwind spinning roundhouse kick that flows into a vicious uppercut.

  Pale light illuminated the deck around Ranma, and he saw their malicious grins and cruel smirks change to hateful grimaces and frightened winces.

  Their fear sparked new confidence in him. His pain was replaced by an elated sense of calm, and he moved into a triumphant cat stance. “I am the Fierce Tiger of the Anythin’ Goes School of Martial Arts!”

  Akane came up onto the deck just in time to see something miraculous. Ranma stood, huge gash in his side, blood running down his leg, standing unbroken, unbowed…and shining? Pale gold light limned his body, illuminating the deck around him in dim light. But she only saw that glow for a moment before a perfect empty circle of light appeared on his forehead.

  A shimmer like a heat haze shadow washed over him as sparks bundled around his body, obscuring him from view, then exploded into a winged shape above him. The mass of lights, twisting like fireflies, came together to form a massive bird of flame that screeched soundlessly into the sky. It blazed with the light of the afternoon sun and she saw characters flow down its feathers, another unreadable script at first…

  Until a new layer of feathers draped across its form, inscribed with names in kana. Names she recognized, some she didn’t. Kuno, Shiratori, Konjo, Taro, Herb, Mousse, Hibiki, Orochi, Tendo. Sanzenin.

  Saffron.

  Where Ranma had been standing was a silhouette made of dark shades of blue, red, and black light. White eyes and that golden circle were the only features Akane could perceive. The phoenix above him collapsed, igniting a pillar of fire and sunlight under him that reached into the sky, illuminating the sea for hundreds of meters in all directions.

  For a moment, everything was still. The fair folk growled, the crew was speechless, even the rest of the fighters from Nerima could only stare. The white eye shapes blinked and for a moment, Ranma seemed confused, but a recognizably cocky voice came from the blazing shadow-shape he used to be. “Get offa this ship!”

  Shadow flowed like water where Ranma strode, and he passed around their weapons like a flickering flame. The silhouette weaved a path through the invaders, occasionally yanking a spear or net out of their hands or leaping off their heads to slam down on another, then before they could respond it flowed through them and began again somewhere else.

  Whereas before they were coordinated, implacable, and ruthless, Ranma’s assault confused and infuriated them. As more and more concentrated on Ranma, they became less and less cohesive as a group.

  Which meant it was the perfect time to deal with the tentacles. Akane sprinted to the aft deck, a woodcutter’s axe in one hand and a mason’s hammer in the other. Captain Ikka may have exaggerated a bit when she said they had iron “weapons”, but as long as they worked Akane didn’t care.

  She saw Ukyo first, who’d just finished swatting an errant shark-faced fey back into the sea. “Catch!” Akane hurled the hammer at the other girl. “Let’s take out those tentacles while they’re distracted!”

  “You got it, sugar!” Ukyo chirped back with a nod, and each raced to a different side of the ship. Boarders were still coming, and a couple stopped to intercept them. A few well-placed strikes and their armor shattered and smoking black wounds were enough to deal with them, however, and Akane dove at her tentacle. She knew what to expect this time and swung, and barely managed to leap back to the Mustang’s hull before it crumbled and snapped.

  Ukyo didn’t even have to attack the one on her side: A single tentacle wasn’t enough to bear the weight of the attacking ship and it tore itself apart. Everyone on the Mustang was thrown off their feet as the ship sprang back up out of the water and slammed back down into the waves.

  The pursuing ship fully submerged, the beleaguered defenders focused on repelling new boarders from scaling the ship’s hull while Ranma dealt with the ones still aboard.

  Except…Ranma had stopped attacking. Ryoga watched Ranma dance and twirl and bend but never did he strike back. Ryoga knew his rival well enough to know he was deliberately ignoring opportunities to do so. The hobgoblins were still distracted, which was helpful, but it was like—

  “Saotome’s not taking the fight seriously anymore.” Kuno mused from next to Ryoga, who almost jumped out of his skin. “Whatever came over him has redoubled his already boorish impertinence.”

  “Don’t do that!” Ryoga wasn’t going to let the pompous kendoka get away with that without some kind of acknowledgement, but he wasn’t wrong. “And yeah, Ranma’s arrogant but this is…something else.”

  For Akane, the sight took her back to the first time she and Ranma met and the bad old days when he never treated her like an equal or took her seriously. Watching him so flippantly disregard the danger everyone was in was infuriating, even if he was doing it to the bad guys.

  “Ranma, what’s wrong with you? Fight them!” She bellowed, but all he did was hang upside-down from a crossmast and wave at her while evading attacks.

  “Hey Akane! Dunno why we were so worried about these guys, Saffron’s minions put up more of a challenge!” He laughed and jumped down to land on one of the hobgoblins’ heads, then stuck his thumbs in his ears and waved his tongue and fingers at them.

  Some of the creatures realized they couldn’t get to him, either because of his antics or the throng of their compatriots, and focused their attention on everyone else. Ryoga heard Isu scream in pain as he took a hit to the thigh. The ship bucked as he crashed into the helmsman and the wheel spun out of control.

  “Dammit Ranma!” he rushed the helm with a roar and slammed into Isu’s attacker shoulder-first. His fists slammed into its sides below the armored plates, causing it to wheeze in pain, and he carried it to the side of the ship and flung it away. From his new vantage point he saw an eerie glow under the water: the attacking ship was going to breach from underneath them!

  The only warning he could sputter out in time was “Brace—” before the Mustang violently shook as displaced water shoved it sideways. Handfuls of pirates and hogoblins were flung into the water, and the vessel nearly capsized. Ryoga only barely avoided a crash of seawater thanks to his umbrella. As the ship righted itself, he grasped the damp railing in panic.

  “Hey P-chan, nice job keepin’ dry there.” Ranma was standing on the railing next to Ryoga, utterly unbothered.

  His anger no longer able to be contained, Ryoga swung his umbrella at his glowing rival with a scream, but Ranma avoided the attack effortlessly. “People are gonna get hurt, Ranma!” Ryoga pleaded. “Do something!”

  “Ryoga, relax,” Ranma’s shadowy silhouette patted Ryoga’s shoulder condescendingly, like a parent comforting a child. “These monster things are a joke. They’re not even comin’ close to hittin’ me now, and they just knocked like half of their guys back into the water anyway, like a buncha idi—”

  Ranma bent back to evade Ryoga’s fury-driven hook, but their altercation was cut short when an inhumanly loud voice boomed from the fey ship. The wing-like sails were open, revealing the kaleidoscopic interior of the alien vessel. Standing at the edge of the “deck” was a grotesquely beautiful man. His eyes were large and watery, like a whale’s, and his head was bulbous and round, excess flesh hanging off the back of its skull like a poor imitation of hair. He had no nose and his mouth was too wide and filled with hundreds of needle-like teeth. Mottled blue-grey skin was visible under a sheer orange and pink robe that glittered in the pale sunlight from Ranma’s blazing aura and drifted around his body like a jellyfish.

  Under the robe he was adorned with layers of armor; a polished metal cuirass, vambraces, and jambeaux shaped with dizzying symbols on the surface. In each hand he wielded a long, gleaming falx, too many spindly, long fingers wrapping around their handles. “Lawgiver!” It snarled, pointing at Ranma. “I Unravel the Flesh!”

  Summoning strength, he launched himself into the air and came careening down on the Mustang’s deck with such force that the vessel swayed. Up close, he was nearly three meters tall, though if Ranma was intimidated he didn't show it.

  “For too long the shaped have imposed the tyranny of their perverse order on the purity of the untamed Wyld, and I challenge you to—” Ranma started walking away from the fair folk champion or captain or whatever he was.

  “Yeah yeah, you're the new Kuno, congrats.” Then he tilted his head and started giggling. “Hey Akane! That makes the rest of these guys the new Hentai Horde!” Akane slammed her face into her palm, not believing how unbelievably

  “How dare you compare me to that disgusting mockery of humanity!” Kuno stormed up, dripping wet from the wave that crashed over the deck. “No one shall replace me, I am the Zeal of—”

  “Do not ignore me, Lawgiver!” Unravel (Ranma decided that's what his name would be) charged and spun his blades with unnatural force and speed, though not a single strike found its target.

  Ranma flipped over Unravel’s attacks and gave him a friendly tap on the back of his head mid-leap. “So my name's actually Ranma, Ranma Saotome,” Unravel spun, whipping his twisted limbs at impossible angles in a vain attempt to dice Ranma into indistinguishable red chunks. “I dunno what a ‘Lawgiver’ is, kinda sounds like a cop.”

  Unravel chased Ranma one swing of its wicked blades at a time, tirelessly whirling and slicing. “You were right, Kuno, you're nothin' like this thing!” Kuno frowned. Saotome uttered the lyrics of a compliment with the melody of an insult. “You at least hit me back then!”

  As Ranma flipped away from Unravel’s attacks yet again, the fair folk paused and let his swords hang at his sides. “You mock and belittle me, Sol’s Chosen.” He watched Ranma adopt a carefree pose with his hands behind his head. “If you will not take me seriously, perhaps I shall sate my blades’ thirst with the blood of your allies!”

  With a bloodcurdling howl, he pivoted and lunged at Ryoga, who barely managed to get out of the way.

  And still Ranma seemed unconcerned. “Sure buddy, ya can't even touch me and Plan B is to go after my fri…uh, acquaintances?” Akane, Ukyo, and Ryoga were friends…but he didn't want the others to get any ideas.

  Now Unravel was ignoring him, but that was fine, they'd beaten way tougher challenges than this. The last thing he wanted was to get roped into some dumb war between weaklings in another world anyway, he just wanted to get home.

  That being said, it was kinda boring just sitting and watching Unravel impotently swing at the other folks from Nerima. The other fair folk had abandoned the ship, but he could see their eyes glittering in the water surrounding them, waiting for their next orders.

  “Ranma!” The shriek pierced the veil of ennui that was draped over Ranma’s mind, and it was like waking up from a dream. Ice spread through his veins as reality dawned on him. Ukyo is bleeding, Akane is holding her, looking at me…what am I doing?

  No time to think, Ranma was already picking both of them up and down the first flight of stairs. A group of pirates were huddled near the entrance, including Captain Ikka, who viewed Ranma with suspicion and awe.

  “Get them to Jara!” Ranma yelled, but before the captain could even acknowledge him he was back on deck. “You got my attention now!” He yelled as he bound up the ship's rigging and launched a kick from the sky, aiming to shatter Unravel’s spine.

  Perhaps he shouldn't have called out his attack. Maybe Unravel was waiting for him to make a move like that. Or maybe the fey captain’s reflexes were as good as Ranma's. Whatever the explanation, Ranma's foot crashed against the flats of Unravel's swords. An enormous knee slammed into Ranma's tailbone, launching him up into the air. It hurt, but he righted himself in time to evade the follow-up strike. Except it wasn't one of Unravel’s falces but a glaive.

  Ranma twisted and wrapped a leg around the pole, and saw that Unravel was holding the weapon in a second pair of arms. He lowered Ranma so the two could see eye to eye. “You don’t smell like Creation, Lawgiver,” Curiosity beat out fury, at least for the moment, as he examined Ranma. “The Sun’s Blessing adorns you, but your flesh, your soul…they are unfamiliar.”

  Ranma felt guilty for not helping earlier, and wanted to punish Unravel for how he hurt Ukyo, but Ranma was thinking clearly now. If he could get the fey captain to stand down without further injuries he owed it to his friends and the crew to try.

  “Yeah, some spider god thing pulled us out of our comfy home and dropped us here.” Ranma crossed his arms and tilted his head, pleased that Unravel mimicked his movements. Maybe he could find some common ground with the guy. “You sound like you ain’t from this place either. If you know how we can get back maybe we’ll work out some kinda ‘mutually beneficial arrangement’?”

  If the creature spent any time considering Ranma’s offer, he answered by manifesting yet another pair of arms, this time wielding a pair of hook swords, and swinging them at Ranma’s waist.

  For the first time in the fight, Ranma felt himself instinctively draw on his newfound power to avoid the attack, and sprang away from the follow-up that came from its first two swords. Fighting a foe that much taller than him wasn’t a major challenge — most of Ranma’s opponents were bigger than him to some degree, especially in girl form — but as it sprouted more and more arms its reach advantage increased.

  Each of its arms held a different weapon or pair, adorned with bangles, bracelets, and other decorations that probably spoke to a long and storied career as a reality marauder. “You are human, you are Exalted, and you are one of the Hidden Suns! Your word means nothing! I will peel you apart layer by layer to learn your secrets, sup on your fear and pain until I grant you the release of death!”

  Ranma wanted to roll his eyes at its over-the-top declaration, at its Kunoesque penchant for the dramatic, at the absurdity of the situation, but the newfound power suffusing his body sang to be unleashed. Plus, there was comfort and familiarity with an enemy refusing to listen to him and furiously attacking, it made him think of Ryoga and Shampoo. Though he doubted this guy would end up becoming an ally, begrudging or otherwise.

  “If I got a yen every time I heard something like that…” Ranma muttered, dropped into a fighting stance, and the duel was on.

  Witnesses could barely follow either combatants’ movements: Unravel had so many arms and weapons that flowed confusingly around its body, and Ranma’s aura obscured him in illusory flame and wavering light.

  Unravel was as difficult to hit as Ranma, protecting himself with a barrier of gossamer weapons. All of the young Exalt’s attempts to find a gap in his defense were met with a counter-barrage of lethal force. Ranma felt his ki warp and twist with his body, and unfamiliar instincts assisted him in evading his opponent’s strikes, but without a way to attack back Ranma would be worn down eventually.

  Only if he relied exclusively on his newfound power, that is. As he danced across the deck of the Mustang he pushed himself and tested the limits of his capabilities. He could react faster, last longer, he could tell he was tougher and stronger, but he was still himself. And Ranma Saotome always figured out how to win.

  Part of the problem is that Unravel had a lot of weapons, but did he have unlimited weapons? As a falchion swooped over his head, Ranma put that question to the test. “You talk a big game but you’re not really any scarier than all the little guys you sicced at us.” He taunted, going so far as to casually put his hands behind his back.

  Unravel took the bait and thrust with dozens of straight blades. Ranma stepped between a set of arms and pummeled one of the fey’s wrists and forearms. He recoiled in pain but Ranma flung the tanto it had been holding into the sea. “I’ll catch you sooner or later, you can’t possibly disarm me completely!” Unravel screamed, but Ranma heard frustration in his voice.

  “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Ranma quipped back, and began systematically targeting Unravel’s weapons directly. If he was patient he could whittle the monster down before he got a lucky shot in.

  Akane wasn’t injured, she’d pulled Ukyo out of the way and kept her safe from the worst of Unravel’s attack, but she made sure the okonomiyaki chef was okay before she made her way back to the deck. Captain Ikka stopped her at the stairs, however.

  “Not a soul’s goin’ up there while that Anathema takes on the Cataphract.” Ikka put up a hand to block her and Akane glared at the audacity. “If we’re lucky they’ll tear each other apart afore we have ta deal with ‘em.”

  It took a moment for Akane to process what Ikka was saying because it made no sense to leave her best friend — and former fiancé, or at least temporarily not-fiancé — alone to fight that monster. “That’s Ranma! I don’t care if he’s glowing or made of shadow or whatever, he helped you!”

  Some of the crew looked at each other guiltily, but not enough for Akane’s liking, and Ikka shook her head. “I understand yer impulse, an’ we mourn his loss…” Akane’s cheeks turned red as she scowled, ready to pummel the captain for daring to imply Ranma was already gone. Ikka leaned in and narrowed her eyes, causing Akane to hesitate. “But tha official line izzat Anathema are demons what stole the bodies of our loved ones, ya understand?”

  Captain Ikka was performing for her crew, Akane realized. She had their loyalty, but even the ones who reacted to Akane’s words were afraid. Unfortunately for her, Akane didn’t care about their stupid beliefs: that was Ranma up there, and she was going to help.

  “Move before I make you, captain.” Ikka’s jaw clenched and her pupils widened, but she stepped to the side. Her face was unreadable, but Akane swore she admired her response.

  “Can’t stop ya if I tried, but it’s yer funeral, girl.” She nodded and the pirates guarding the stairs moved as well. Akane didn’t spare a second glance at any of them and rushed out to see Ranma was finally engaging the impossible creature. Most of the pirates escaped below deck, leaving the helmsman, an injured Isu, and the pink-haired woman Akane saw in the galley earlier.

  Ryoga kept near Ranma’s fight to make sure they didn’t come too close to any of the ship’s rigging. Kuno and Kodachi were nowhere to be seen. Trusting that Ranma would kept the fey monster contained, Akane decided to focus on her missing companions. “Where are the other two?” She asked the pirates at the helm.

  Isu winced and gestured to the sea. “They’ve been hauling my crew up from the water, two at a time. Hobgoblins ain’t touched a soul since their captain took the field, if I were the hopeful sort I’d say we’re gettin’ through this without any casualties…” He glanced at Akane and hung his head. “Other’n your purple-haired friend.”

  The middle of combat was no time to explain Shampoo’s curse so Akane ignored his attempt at compassion. “Is that thing weak to iron too?” The woodcutter’s axe was still in her hand and she pointed at Unravel like it was a wand.

  If she could get it to Ranma, maybe he’d be able to actually go on the offensive. He’d been fighting for nearly fifteen minutes against an unending horde before he was injured. Akane didn’t know if his golden apotheosis healed him but he would run out of stamina before long.

  “Yes. The fair folk are creatures of the Wyld, the infinite chaos from beyond. Iron is the purest symbol of the Elemental Pole of Earth at the center of Creation.” Isu sounded like he was reciting dogma, but she’d seen it work against hoboglins and their ship. “Earth is the element that structures and solidifies Creation, so it disrupts whatever baleful animus powers the fair folk.”

  As he finished his explanation, Kuno and Kodachi hoisted themselves over the ship’s railing, dragging three more crew members onto the deck with them. Isu waved them over and nodded appreciatively. “That’s everyone who was on deck accounted for! Get below deck now sailors!” he barked at the drenched crew.

  “Akane, how lovely it is to see you unharmed.” Kuno nodded and smiled. Before Akane could respond or hit him in the face with the axe, however, he shifted his attention to Ranma, who had just stolen a lance from his opponent and launched it into the water.

  Unravel wasn’t replacing his weapons or spawning new ones, but the wicked, claw-like fingernails of his hands kept Ranma from getting too close. Akane knew they had to get involved. “Kuno, go get Ryoga and bring him here, we’re gonna talk strategy.”

  Ranma was flagging. The fight was taking too long, he couldn’t stop moving, even after he’d stolen half of Unravel’s weapons, and he still wasn’t any closer to striking the monstrous captain. The sun’s power healed his injuries, but his muscles burned from the effort and soon he’d feel a blade or a claw sink into his flesh.

  Still, he’d been in worse situations. He wanted to catch Unravel in a Hiryū Shōten Ha, but the Mustang wouldn’t be able to handle a tornado suddenly erupting on deck, plus the creature wasn’t hot like a human should be so he didn’t know if it’d even be effective.

  A blast from his Mōko Takabisha didn’t do much either. When he created enough distance to safely blast Unravel with a dose of his confidence-powered ki — that he swore was stronger than it should have been — all it seemed to do was scuff the weapons he used to block it and knock him a few feet back.

  In short, Ranma was out of options and not making any progress.

  “Ranma, catch!” Kodachi’s voice, of all people, rang out across the deck, and he risked a glance in her direction. She threw something at him, spinning through the air, and he realized it had to be something iron. He scrambled to catch it but Unravel wasn’t a fool, a wall of blades enveloped the space in front of him and whatever Kodachi was trying to get to him was utterly destroyed.

  “I can smell your fear, Lawgiver, and soon I’ll devour your—GWOARH!” An ear-splitting scream of pain sent ripples across the waves as something smashed into Unravel from behind. It spun and thrashed its arms trying to get to it, letting Ranma catch a glance of the smoldering hole in the small of Unravel’s back. The woodcutter’s axe fell free and clattered on the deck, and Ranma grinned as he finally got a chance to stop moving and catch his breath.

  The break wouldn’t last long, however, and Unravel found the axe and hurled it so far and so high that there was no chance they’d be able to find it. He whirled about, scanning the fighters who were now surrounding it, but his wound was severe enough to cause his legs to shake and some of his arms didn’t seem to work any more.

  Ranma took advantage of his scattered attention and launched himself straight at the exposed weakpoint. “Kachū Tenshin Amaguriken!” Every strike was aimed at the injury. The first dozen or so connected, enough to take Unravel down to a knee, before he blocked the remainder. “No!” He quailed, unwilling to concede. “I won’t lose here!”

  With the remaining strength in his good leg, he launched itself high into the air and splashed into the water. Ranma ran to the railing and saw him swimming quickly back toward his ship. Perhaps he should have let him go, but he felt that urge to express his power. As fast as Unravel was going, even Ranma couldn’t swim fast enough to intercept him. Except…

  Ripples and waves on the water’s surface looked wide and stable enough to Ranma that he somehow knew, as long as he was fast enough to skip over them at their peaks, he wouldn’t have to swim. He could run.

  As he weighed his options, something bounced against his foot. The hammer Ukyo dropped when the ship’s tentacle snapped in two. He’d call it providence if he knew the meaning of the word.

  “We did it! They’ve been routed!” Kuno raised an arm in victory and everyone else relaxed. Akane started moving toward Ranma, but he was crouched on the railing with the hammer in hand in a blink.

  “Ranma, wait!” She cried, but the fool leapt as far as he could toward his prey. Everyone watched, expecting him to splash into the water and start swimming. They weren’t prepared for him to land and start sprinting full-tilt over the surface as if it was a puddle.

  He only got the element of surprise once, he had to make sure it hurt, so he urged the power swimming through him to quiet his footfalls. It wasn’t quite the same as using the Umi-Sen Ken, but whenever he pulled on the power it made him feel like a predator or stalker. It felt good.

  Unravel literally didn’t know what hit him at first, just that a searing pain ripped through his shoulder as a golden light streaked behind him. The water churned as he spun in place, desperate to cleave whatever was assaulting him, but it was already too far away. “The Lawgiver…” He muttered, and charged. Nothing in Creation was “his” element, but he knew humans weren’t meant for the water, and he believed that gave him the advantage.

  Ranma vaulted over the wall of blades, parried a few with the hammer, and swung through a wrist that Unravel left dangling just a little too high. The fey creature roared in pain again and tried to mount an effective defense, but Ranma kept sprinting away, circling back around, and cleaving bits and pieces away from him at a time.

  After the fourth such strike, Unravel knew it was just a matter of time before he would be slain. His ship was too far to swim with Ranma on his heels and the pain was burning so intense that he couldn’t mount an effective defense. So he waited for Ranma’s next strike, flailing his arms as he ineffectually limped toward his ship.

  “You’re not comin’ back from this!” Ranma yelled as he readied the hammer for one final blow to Unravel’s head, and began to swin—

  The spear came up from behind the fair folk captain’s head, passing right by his head, and plunged into Ranma’s abdomen. He felt the tip puncture straight through and come out the other side as he was skewered like some sort of butterfly. Air wheezed out of his lungs and his eyes went wide, he heard ringing in his ears, and Unravel pulled him close with a smug sneer.

  “I look forward to killing your next host as well, Lawgiver. Hopefully for you it’s less of a—” It would have been a clever gambit, had Unravel not ruined it by letting Ranma keep the hammer. Maybe he thought the fledgling Solar would drop it. Maybe he thought Ranma was already dead. Regardless, Ranma smashed it into the fey’s forehead, wincing as the spear twisted inside him.

  Sorry Akane, he thought as Unravel’s body began to sink, taking her with it. Shoulda listened, huh?

  “No!” Akane screamed and dove, hell-bent on getting to Ranma and dragging the idiot back to the ship. She’d been taking swimming lessons, she knew not to swallow water now! Apparently Ryoga didn’t know that, however, because she heard the lost boy protest and before she hit the water he grabbed her, pinning her to the side of the hull.

  “You can’t swim, someone else will get Ranma!” Ryoga pleaded as Akane thrashed in his arms. She didn’t understand why he was stopping her, he should be trying to help!

  “Come with me then, help me!” She screamed in his face. He must have known he should be doing something because he blushed in shame and closed his eyes.

  “Look, Akane, I…I can’t swim eith—” he was cut off as a swell of water slammed up the side of the ship, pushing him into her arms. Or, rather…

  “Ryoga?” Akane blinked as she started to slip, realizing he was no longer holding them. He’d vanished somehow, leaving his clothes behind, though something was tangled in the bundle in her arms.

  Suddenly Kuno launched himself off the ship into the water, and Akane allowed herself to relax. It was weird that Kuno would volunteer to save Ranma, but it was a strange time. Grunting, she hauled herself back up on deck and investigated Ryoga’s discarded shirt and pants. Was he in the water? What kept rolling around in there?

  Peeling away wet cloth, she revealed…a little black piglet. P-chan. Her pet for the past two years, though she hadn’t seen him around the past few months. Right around when…Ryoga…and Akari…

  Her pet couldn’t maintain eye contact with her. The animal she used to let sleep next to her was blushing. And…and it was Ryoga. He’d been Ryoga this whole time.

  I can't do this right now, she shook with barely-contained rage and opened her hands. He struck the deck of the ship with a wet thud and shuffled out of his clothes, looking up at her with wide eyes. She couldn't let this distract her right now. Not before she made sure Ranma was okay.

  While the average Imperial soldier camped in the temporary tent city outside of Port Mesere, the elite, Dragon-Blooded members of the Wyld Hunt were invited to stay in Sheer Keep overlooking the port. It was a lavishly furnished, sprawling complex intended to function as a well-defended, luxurious, private resort for visiting Realm dignitaries, admirals, and the like.

  Five of the leaders of the Hunt, one fourth of the 20 Dragon-Blooded, occupied a wing of the palatial home at the center of the keep. Two of them currently lounged in one of the many drawing rooms, enjoying the midnight sea breeze blowing through the open veranda doors.

  Sukha Nellens was the leader of the Hunt. Technically it was her first command, but that was just because her consort, the beautiful Misako Kenzho, lost her family status when her home was overrun by anti-Realm forces. No longer the heir apparent of an important Realm tributary, her command was reassigned to Sukha, scion of one of the Great Dynastic Houses.

  Sukha was tall, bald, skin like the ocean depths, and currently enjoying Misako’s warm, powerful hands massaging her stomach. “Mmm, why didn't you ever ask me to do this for you when I was your second?” Sukha mewled and fluttered her big, shimmering blue eyes at her consort.

  Misako was much shorter than Sukha, with wide shoulders and hips, strong features, and sand-colored skin covered in freckles that resembled gravel. Ruby eyes glinted under her prominent, stony brow.

  With characteristic humorlessness, she scoffed. “A Kenzho woman would never allow herself to be so vulnerable before a member of the Great Houses.” She recited the (hopefully) made-up tenet as if it was holy writ, which made Sukha grin. “Plus I was never hit by a rampaging Lunar Anathema right in the stomach, so I never needed it.”

  Sukha giggled, which made Misako crack a smile and blush.

  “There’s that smile…” Sukha grabbed Misako’s chin and held her gaze. “I haven’t seen her enough lately. Keep your head held high and don’t give up. You’ll have your old command back before you know it.” Misako nodded and Sukha leaned back into her arms.

  Too soon their comfortable reverie was interrupted by an impatient knock at the door. Sukha didn’t bother asking who it was: at this time of night there weren’t many people it could be. “Just a moment!” She sang as she donned a blue silk robe to protect her modesty and Misako dutifully snapped to attention. “Enter.” Three other Dragon-Blooded came through the door, the rest of their Circle.

  Smirking Snipe, lustrous red hair sparking in the candlelight, wore a performatively exhausted scowl that clashed with the gleam in his burnt orange eyes. He still wore the red leather vest and trousers he’d been wearing when the Anathema ambushed them at the wharf that morning.

  Behind him was the green-cloaked lookout who spotted the Anathema, Tinamu. Only their viridian eyes were visible beneath the mossy cloth, but Sukha knew their lily white skin and violet hair were concealed below. Ever taciturn, they stalked through the room and took up a quiet vigil on the veranda.

  The final member of their Circle was also the newest: One Dozen Breezes. Two years ago she graduated from the Heptagram — the Realm’s premier school for sorcery — and was assigned to their Circle. Despite the tropical warmth of the Wavecrest Archipelago, the young sorceress continued to wear her thick, sky-blue coat with its cumulous white fur cuffs and collar. Part of that was her unwarranted self-image issues: she still had a healthy layer of weight thanks to the sedentary, cloistered lifestyle of the Heptagram. She kept her wild, curly, dusky hair contained in a sloppy bun, the only part of her ensemble that she didn’t appear to have complete control of.

  “Sukha, my dear, I hope we’re not interrupting anything with our urgent status report.” Snipe waggled his eyebrows as he darted his eyes back and forth between Sukha and Misako.

  Blushing at his insinuation, Misako blustered out of embarrassment. “That’s Commander Nellens to you, Snipe.” He’d worked with them for almost a decade, so Sukha thought it was cute how Misako thought that would do anything but embolden the fickle Fire Aspect. The Commander knew how to deal with him though.

  “Of course you did!” she put a hand over her chest in feigned outrage. “That you would be so bold as to knowingly intrude on two women in flagrante delicto, and your superiors no less?”

  When Misako was in charge, Snipe never passed up an opportunity to rattle her. It was never malicious, and Sukha honestly thought he brought much-needed levity to their team of mostly stoic, dutiful dynasts.

  Now Sukha was in charge, and she would handle him differently. Draping an arm around Misako’s shoulders, she cooed at Snipe through a lascivious grin. “If you do it again, you better be ready to join us as punishment.”

  The only face redder than Misako’s was Breezes’s, who had to turn away from the Commander’s display. Misako, career soldier and groomed to lead, at least maintained her composure. Snipe smirked, but the light blush on his cheeks told Sukha what she already knew: he was all bark and no bite.

  “Mmm, I love the new policy, Commander,” he managed to vamp through tight lips, desperate to change the subject. “But you’ll be happy to know our latest sweep uncovered no evidence of Anathema on the island. Now that you’ve recovered, perhaps we can take to the sea once again?”

  Sukha chuckled and dismissed the rest of her Circle with a wave of her hand. “I already informed the Duchess’s crew to make ready by tomorrow, I know it’s slow but it’s a symbol of—”

  “Commander!” Tinamu shouted from their post, a surprising amount of worry in their voice. “On the horizon!”

  All five Dragon-Blooded came to the railing to see what had their attention, and five pairs of eyes went wide. At first, the light could have been mistaken for dawn’s early rays, but that was hours away, and the light was too small, too pale. When a bird of flame appeared above the water, they realized what was happening.

  A Solar Anathema had come.