The storm does not come knocking; it comes crashing in.

  One day after the battle against The Banshee Coil, the sky turned a bruise-colored shade—dark purple mixed with black. The wind screamed through the rigging, creating ghostly whistles that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Outside, the deck of The White Swan was pelted with hail that pierced the skin like needles. Waves as tall as a two-story house slammed against the ship's hull, making the wooden planks groan in pain.

  Yet, inside the Mess Hall, the atmosphere was warm, noisy, and reeked of cheap alcohol.

  Mira sat at a round table scarred with knife marks, surrounded by thick tobacco pipe smoke. She was no longer wearing the bandages wrapped around her chest or the clothes Kars had given her. She wore an oversized white linen shirt that she had borrowed (or stolen) from the clothesline, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing her slender arms now marked with a few new scratches. Her shoulder-length brown hair was tied back carelessly so it wouldn’t get in her way.

  “Call or fold, Princess,” grumbled the ship’s Quartermaster, an old toothless man named Grog who held the cards in trembling hands but with sharp eyes.

  Mira stared at the pile of Kluppe coins in the middle of the table. It was her first paycheck from the old man as a 'bonus for killing an Ogre,' and she was wagering half of it in a game of Sea-Serpent cards.

  “Don’t call me Princess,” Mira shot back sharply, her voice a little hoarse from the warm Rum in her stomach. “My name is Mira.”

  "Sure, Mira," Grog grinned, showing his empty gums. "So? Bet?"

  Mira glanced at the cards in her hand. Three Dragon Heads and two Tails. A strong combination. Across the room, sitting in a dark corner away from the crowd, Kars was reading a thick leather-bound book. That man looked completely out of place among these rough sailors. His handsome, cold face seemed bored, but Mira knew his gray eyes were watching her every move.

  Kars had given her permission to 'socialize' tonight. “Building bonds with the crew is a survival strategy,” he had said earlier. “But don’t get drunk, or I’ll throw you into the sea.”

  Mira ignored Kars’s gaze. She refocused on the gambling table.

  Next to her sat a stranger whom Mira had never spoken to before. He was another passenger, a young man with messy blonde hair and a thin burn scar on his left cheek. His name was Zeal. He was quiet, rarely spoke, but tonight he joined in the game.

  "I'm in," said Zeal, pushing his pile of coins to the center. His voice was calm, in contrast to the commotion around them.

  Mira squinted. She was tempted to use her Intian. Just a little. To channel the Intian into her eyes to see the reflection of her opponents’ cards in the rum bottle, or to see their heartbeats to detect lies.

  But that was cheating. And Kars would break her fingers if she were caught using magic for gambling.

  "I bet all," Mira said recklessly, pushing her remaining coins. Cheers erupted from the sailors watching.

  "So brave," Grog chuckled. "Show your cards!"

  Grog slammed his cards down. Four Tails. A strong defensive combination. Mira smirked. She slammed her cards down. Three Dragon Heads. "I win," Mira said proudly, her hand already moving to scoop up the coins.

  "Wait," Zeal's voice stopped her.

  The young man beside her gently placed his cards on the table. Five Leviathan Eyes. A legendary combination with a one-in-a-thousand chance of appearing.

  Silence. Then laughter and curses exploded.

  "CHEATER!" Mira yelled, jumping to her feet, her face red—half from alcohol, half from embarrassment. "That's impossible! You were hiding cards up your sleeve!"

  "Beginner's luck," Zeal replied nonchalantly, though there was a playful glint in his eye. He swept all of Mira's coins away. "But according to Sea-Serpent rules... anyone who loses an All-In bet badly must face the Sea Punishment."

  The sailors around them began rhythmically pounding on the table. "PUNISHMENT! PUNISHMENT! PUNISHMENT!"

  Mira's face went pale. She looked at Grog. "What's the punishment? Washing dishes? Scrubbing the deck?"

  Grog laughed until he was coughing. "Oh, no, kid. That's a kid's punishment. The Sea-Serpent punishment is the 'Siren's Kiss.' You have to kiss the winner. On the lips. Full ten seconds."

  Mira's blood drained from her face. She stared at Zeal. The young man looked surprised, his cheeks slightly flushed, but he did not resist. He just sat there, looking at Mira with raised eyebrows as if challenging her, Dare you not?

  "I won't do it," Mira hissed, her hand reflexively brushing her waist, searching for the dagger that (fortunately) had already been confiscated by Kars before entering the room.

  "Rules are rules," one of the sailors blurted out. "Or do you want to swim outside with the storm?"

  Mira glanced at the corner of the room. Kars was still reading his book. He didn't look up, but the corner of his lips lifted slightly. Damn it. That man was enjoying her suffering. He wouldn't help.

  Mira let out a harsh breath. Her pride as an adventurer was at stake here. Backing down from the challenge—even a ridiculous one—would make her look weak in front of the crew.

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  "Alright," Mira grumbled. "Ten seconds. Don't expect me to enjoy it."

  Mira turned to face Zeal. The young man was still sitting, forcing her to lean down slightly. The distance between them shortened. Mira could smell the faint scent of sea soap and tobacco from Zeal's clothes.

  Mira's heart raced faster than when she faced the Ogre yesterday. This was a battlefield she didn’t control.

  "Close your eyes," Mira commanded sharply.

  Zeal obeyed, closing his eyes with a faint smile.

  Mira held her breath, shut her own eyes, and bent forward.

  Their lips met.

  At first, they were stiff. Mira's lips were tightly pressed, tense like a bowstring. She counted silently in her mind. One... two... Zeal's lips felt warm. And soft. Unlike his rough external appearance.

  In the fourth second, something changed. The tension in Mira's shoulders melted slightly. The aroma of Rum on their breath mixed. Zeal's hand hesitantly raised, as if to touch Mira's waist, but was held in mid-air.

  Five... six...

  The cheers in the room faded into a background hum in Mira's ears. For a moment, the world was limited to the warmth on her lips and her own treacherous heartbeat.

  Seven... eight...

  Mira could feel something on her back. Zeal's hand managed to enter her territory, then it lifted her shirt, preparing to take it off. And the other hand had already landed on Mira's chest, touching it slowly as if it was touching a kitten's head.

  Nine…

  The kiss was abruptly interrupted, not because time ran out, but because the ship's floor beneath them tilted forty-five degrees.

  Glasses fell to the ground. Rum bottles shattered. The gambling table flipped over.

  Mira was thrown backward, crashing into Grog's chest, who was also falling. Zeal was hurled against the wall.

  "What the hell?!" Mira shouted, crawling up on the slanted floor. "Big waves?"

  Oil lamps swayed wildly, some going out, plunging the room into a chilling dimness.

  The danger siren sounded from the upper deck. Bells rang frantically. But that sound was drowned out by another noise.

  A low growling sound. Not from the wind. Not from the waves. The sound came from beneath them, from the bottom of the ship's hull. The vibration traveled through the wood, into Mira's leg bones, making her instantly nauseous.

  "That's not the waves," Kars' voice suddenly appeared beside Mira. That man was already standing upright, his book gone.

  "Get to the deck! Now!" Kars ordered. He grabbed Mira's shirt collar, dragging her to her feet. "Take your weapon!"

  They ran out of the Mess Hall, jostling with the panicked crew. Mira grabbed her dagger belt hanging near the door.

  As they burst through the door to the upper deck, hell greeted them.

  Hail pelted Mira's face like sharp pebbles. The wind roared so fiercely that she had to hold onto the sail rope to avoid being blown away. But it wasn’t the storm that made her blood freeze.

  It was the air temperature. The temperature had dropped drastically. Rainwater hitting the deck froze immediately into a slippery layer of ice. Mira's breath came out in thick clouds of vapor.

  "Look at the sea!" shouted one of the crew, pointing to the side of the ship.

  In the darkness of that night storm, the ocean glowed—a pale blue light, as if there was a ghost beneath the surface of the water. The source of the light was enormous, as long as the ship The White Swan itself.

  Something moved beneath the ship, circling.

  "Draven?" Mira asked, her teeth chattering from the cold. "Is that Draven?"

  "No," Kars replied, his eyes narrowing as he pierced through the rain. "Draven is an ice wielder. But this creature... this is the source of winter itself."

  Instantly, the sea erupted.

  A giant head emerged from the waves. Its shape resembled a worm, but 'worm' was an insult to this monster. Its head alone was the size of a two-story house. Its skin was not flesh but plates of blue-white chitin covered in thick glacial ice. It had no eyes, only a huge, round mouth filled with thousands of rotating teeth—teeth made of transparent ice as sharp as swords.

  Cold steam spewed from its gaping mouth, freezing the front mast of The White Swan within seconds.

  That is King Winter Worm.

  A mythical monster from the depths of the Abyssal Frost. A top predator that should only slumber at the bottom of the deepest sea trench.

  "Why is it on the surface?!" Grog screamed hysterically. "We're on a trade route! This isn't its territory!"

  The monster roared, emitting a high-pitched shriek that shattered the captain's cabin window. Its body arched high into the air, ready to smash into the ship.

  "Dodge!" Kars shouted.

  The man raised both of his hands. A transparent protective dome appeared over them.

  The giant worm slammed into the left side of the ship.

  The thick oak wood splintered like toothpicks. The White Swan was thrown sideways. Mira slid across the icy floor, her claws scraping the wood, trying not to fall into the raging sea.

  Mira saw Zeal—the young man ahe had kissed earlier—dangling from the broken ship railing. Below him, the gaping mouth of another worm monster (smaller, perhaps its kid) waited.

  "Zeal!" Mira shouted.

  Without thinking, Mira activated her Intian. She had no bow in her hands. She only had a dagger. But she remembered her marble training.

  Light Style: Yellow Prisma Mode. (That’s what Mira called her new technique)

  Mira threw her dagger. She channeled all of her Intian energy into the kinetic thrust.

  Zeal managed to pull himself up, his face deathly pale. He stared at Mira with wide eyes.

  But they didn't have time to say thank you.

  The giant worm rose again. This time, it coiled its body around the middle of the ship. The ice spikes on its skin pierced the wood. It began to coil. To squeeze. The sound of the ship's skeleton being crushed was horrifying.

  "It's going to snap the ship in two!" Mira shouted. "Kars! Do something!"

  Kars stood in the middle of the slanted deck. His robe was soaking wet, and his hair stuck to his face. But his expression was calm, very calm.

  "I can't kill it," Kars said coldly. "Star magic isn’t suitable when there are too many people around. This magic is destructive; it doesn’t distinguish friend from foe. If I use it at such close range, not only will that worm die, but everyone will die too."

  Kars turned to Mira.

  "Mira. Do you remember what Drek said about Draven? About what he was searching for?"

  "Battery?" Mira answered, confused. "What does that have to do with it?"

  "This worm doesn’t hunt flesh," Kars pointed at the monster. "It’s blind. It hunts heat and the Intian. Just like Draven."

  Kars grabbed Mira's shoulder. "You are the voice, Mira. You have two entities in your chest. This monster rises to the surface because it scents you."

  Mira's world stopped spinning. That kiss, the laughter at the gambling table, the brief warmth... it all felt like a distant dream. The reality was this: She was a bringer of bad luck. Her existence endangered everyone on this ship.

  "So what am I supposed to do? Jump into its mouth?" Mira asked, her voice trembling.

  "Don't be foolish," Kars pulled Mira close, shielding her from the monster's blasts of icy steam. "We need to extinguish your voice. Or make it 'unappetizing' to eat."

  The giant worm opened its mouth again. This time, a bright blue light began to gather in its throat. Frost Breath. A freezing breath that could turn the entire ship into eternal statues of ice.

  "Get ready, Mira," Kars whispered, raising his hand high. "This is going to be a very long night."

  In the middle of the storm, on the dying ship, Mira stared into the mouth of the monster ready to devour her. There was no ace up her sleeve this time—no beginner's luck.

  There was only cold, and the choice between being eaten or fighting the god of winter with a kitchen knife.

  Mira wiped the remnants of Zeal's taste from his lips and replaced it with the taste of blood from his own bitten lips.

  "Let's dance, ugly," Mira hissed, two entities in her chest stirring hot against the cold of the night, as if wanting to be summoned, waiting to come out. But Mira, she wouldn't let that happen; she could handle this on her own.

  No. She could handle this together with Kars.