News of the two dark magi aboard The Death Ship soon spread throughout the White Gull.
On hearing this, Seasoft made her way to the deck.
By now, The Death Ship, with its superior speed, sailed alongside the White Gull.
The silhouettes of the two figures, draped in their black magus robes, were now clearly discernible.
Passengers aboard the White Gull let out sharp cries.
The sailors turned ashen-faced.
"I can only hold one of them off," Seasoft declared, her demeanor grave.
Faced with the looming threat of the dark magi, she decisively set aside her dispute over the Divine Artifact.
Only those who survive have the right to possess the Divine Artifact.
"Just take care of the White Gull," Bairon replied, his tone nonchalant.
"What do you mean by that?" Seasoft asked, puzzled.
Before she could grasp the meaning, Bairon stepped forward, invoked Levitation, and descended directly onto The Death Ship.
The audacity of someone from the White Gull willingly boarding The Death Ship seemed to astonish the two dark magi.
"Heh... is he the Battle Magus young Padorn mentioned?" one of them mused.
"It must be him. Young Master Padorn wouldn't deceive us. He is so... fragile," the other responded.
The desiccated corpse hanging from the mast swayed with the breeze.
Of the two magi, the taller one was named Chapman and the shorter, Worn.
"Worn, leave the Battle Magus and the half-Elf on the ship to me. I fancy a soul-swapping experiment between a mage and a half-Elf. The results should prove... entertaining," Chapman said with a sinister grin.
"Deal, Chapman. But all the commoners on the ship must be mine," Worn replied, his tone equally chilling.
"Agreed! I'll handle the Battle Magus. As for the half-Elf, she's yours. Just make sure you don't break her too soon," Chapman leapt onto the ship's rail, fixing his gaze on the White Gull.
As the two ships drew their closest, Chapman opened his mouth to reveal fangs as sharp as those of a wild beast.
A subtle movement in his throat followed.
Though Chapman emitted no sound, the commoners on the White Gull immediately collapsed, their faces twisted in agony, clutching their heads and writhing.
"It feels as if something's tearing apart my head! Please, help me!" cried one sailor.
Unable to bear the pain, he rushed to the ship's rail, intending to throw himself into the sea and end his life. But a smooth sheet of ice materialized beneath his feet.
The sailor slipped, crashing onto the ice and losing consciousness.
The one who intervened was none other than Bairon.
"Frank, get everyone below deck!" Bairon ordered calmly.
"All hands below! If you can still move, help those who can't!" Frank managed to get up, shouting the orders.
Once all the civilians were safely below, Frank, as he closed the cabin door, called out, "Stay safe, Lord Stewart!"
Now, only Seasoft and Bairon remained on the deck of the White Gull.
Seasoft knelt on one knee, her complexion pale, and her forehead slick with sweat.
Despite being a mage, she too felt an overwhelming headache.
Gazing at Seasoft's weakened state, Chapman smirked triumphantly. "Heh... I've heard Elf flesh is delectable. I wonder how a half-Elf tastes?"
On the pirate ship, Bairon handed something to Seasoft, shouting, "Take one out, keep it in your mouth, but don't swallow it."
Seasoft opened her hand and was met with a small vial.
She promptly poured out a single pill and, heeding Bairon's advice, held it in her mouth.
A bitter taste quickly filled her senses, making her refined features contort with discomfort.
"What is this?" Seasoft inquired.
"It's a mix of a certain snake's saliva and wild herbs. Its toxicity is minimal, but its intense bitterness can jolt your brain back to clarity," Bairon explained.
"Thank you," Seasoft remarked, feeling her headache diminish.
"Why aren't you affected?" Chapman asked Bairon, puzzled.
"Your mental assault is called the 'Rend Spell', isn't it? The principle is to project a 'tearing' sensation onto the target through your specially modified canine teeth, using them as a conduit. Am I right?" Bairon replied with a sardonic smile.
It was then that Seasoft realized why Chapman had prominently displayed his unnaturally sharp teeth when he first leapt onto the ship's rail.
He was laying the groundwork for his spell.
"These are not dog teeth; they are the fangs of a blood wolf!" Chapman retorted angrily.
"Blood wolf, said to be the offspring of a sub-species of dragon mixed with a magwolf," Bairon mused, recalling an old tome he once read, then chuckled, "But to my eyes, it's just a dog."
"Insolent cur! I will end you!" Chapman fumed, once again baring his menacing fangs.
"Wind Arrow!"
An arrow, condensed from the very essence of wind, shot towards Chapman's mouth.
Seeing the impending strike, Chapman quickly shut his mouth and dodged to the side.
The one who had cast the spell was none other than Seasoft.
"Leave this dog-toothed dark magus to me," Seasoft declared sternly, holding a bow intricately carved with a Magic Circuit and crafted from an unknown wood.
Elves didn't require magus rings, but they still utilized enchanted equipment in battle.
"Just hold him off for two minutes," Bairon advised.
Seasoft arched an eyebrow in surprise.
"You think you can deal with me in just two minutes?" The previously silent Worn chimed in, pointing at himself incredulously as if he had just heard the punchline of a joke.
Bairon shook his head, "No, you've misunderstood. I only need one minute to deal with you. The extra minute is to toughen up Miss Seasoft. She's a bit too fragile and could use some training."
"Have the Battle Magi of the White Tower grown so arrogant?" Worn sneered.
"Again, you're mistaken," Bairon replied calmly.
"Back when I guarded the gates at the Shadeveil Mountains, I never considered the idea of defeating a dark magus in just one minute... but your blatant stupidity compels me to lower my standards."
"To come out with a 'Rend Spell', such a novice mental spell, as your opening move? Truly pathetic!"
"How dare you call me pathetic? Just you wait!" Worn's face contorted with rage. Closing his eyes, he began to chant a spell.
"Perfect timing, I've been eager to test out my newly mastered Wind Blade technique," Bairon remarked with a smirk.
The Mindergy within his magus ring was frantically pulled into his body.
Following the pattern of the Wind Blade spell, it flowed, constructing one Magic Circuit after another.
With each circuit's formation, a Wind Blade materialized beside him.
Unlike typical Wind Blades, these bore a curved hook design.
Thanks to the stability of the Mindergy in his mind, Bairon could now store ten times more energy than an Intermediate Magus of his level.
As a result, he chose to be extravagant, summoning ten Wind Blades all at once.
"Are you ready?" Bairon grinned maliciously.
Worn opened his eyes and was momentarily stunned by the ten hovering Wind Blades beside Bairon.
His complexion shifted drastically.
He too opened his mouth, but instead of words, unleashed a roar reminiscent of an explosive bear.
Unlike Chapman, Worn had grafted an explosive bear's larynx into himself.
Bairon clutched his chest, stinging from the shock of the roar, and bit down on his tongue.
The sharp pain jolted him back to clarity.
"Wind Blade!"
Seizing the moment of lucidity, he gestured forward.
The ten Wind Blades spiraled towards Worn.
Worn, spotting the incoming threat, smirked darkly.
Just as the blades were about to strike him, he crouched down, placing both hands on the ground.
In that same instance, his slender limbs swelled to a massive size.
Leveraging his newly enlarged limbs, Worn leapt a distance of 5 meters with ease, effortlessly evading the Wind Blades.
"Ha! Little Padorn wasn't lying. You truly are powerful, able to summon ten Wind Blades at once. But against me, you're still a tad lacking!"
Worn proclaimed triumphantly.
His voice was no longer soft and insidious, but now bore the raspy tone of a massive beast.
Concurrently, his eyes shifted to a blood-red hue.
"Soul Transmutation," an intermediate Soul spell.
It is characterized by the ability to extract the soul of a Spellbeast, store it within one's own mind, and in critical moments, substitute the human soul with that of the Spellbeast, thereby granting abilities nearly identical to the creature.
The drawback of this spell is that the mage is highly susceptible to the influence, or more precisely, corruption, of the Spellbeast's soul, often resulting in them becoming a hybrid of man and beast.
But for the fallen dark magus, such influences from the Spellbeast's soul are of no concern.
Bairon's eyes grew icy.
The spell reminded him of his first Legacy Scroll acquired from the Dark Tower's "Equity Scale" through a Mindergy exchange.
The spell brought forth by that Legacy Scroll was called "Flesh".
Its effects were similar to "Soul Transmutation", but "Flesh" only induced hunger in its caster.
By comparison, it was considerably more benign than "Soul Transmutation".
"Could 'Soul Transmutation' be related to 'Flesh'?" Bairon wondered silently.