Pirate Path Potion!
"Then I will choose the 'Pirate Potion,'" Ryan declared confidently.
"Smart choice," Freni replied with a slight smile, her fingers curling around the other bottle as she retracted it. "Just make sure to alert me before you consume it. We'll need to ensure your safety and fend off any external disruptions."
"The process of spiritual sublimation and the consolidation of your abilities are critical," Freni continued, her voice taking on a stern note. "An interruption could be catastrophic. It could severely injure you, compromise your spiritual essence, or, in the worst case, result in immediate death."
"I understand," Ryan nodded vigorously, his eyes briefly flickering towards the dark, swirling patterns on Freni's fingers adorned by a mysterious blue ring. Envy sparked within him. "That must be a special piece of equipment for spatial storage, isn't it? I'd love to have one someday!"
Carefully, he lifted the 'Pirate Potion' from the wooden table. The potion swirled inside the bottle, mesmerizing like a galaxy in motion, and he tucked it securely against his chest.
"Is there anything else you need to know?" Freni asked, leaning back in her chair with an air of calm elegance, her hands clasped together.
"Yes, Lady Freni, during your duel with 'Roshan' Salem on the bow deck, what was that 'black mist hemisphere' he conjured?" Ryan inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"You mean this?" Freni responded, her smile broadening as she produced a ring, dark as night with an intricate octopus carving. She twirled it between her fingers. "This is the Ring of Black Eclipse, a low-level rare item. Once activated, it unleashes a black mist in a five-meter radius, corroding all living matter except for the wearer. It's quite powerful for its level but comes with significant drawbacksn, it requires the sacrifice of one-fifth of the wearer's blood."
She paused, her eyes reflecting a serious glint. "You see, rare objects like this are infused with spirituality. Some occur naturally, while others are crafted. They range from low to high levels, each as potent as professionals of equivalent tiers."
"And since this piece holds no value to me, I offer it to you as a token of our encounter," Freni concluded, tossing the ring gently to Ryan.
Catching the ring, Ryan felt its weight and significance in his palm. He straightened up, a serious expression molding his features, and saluted respectfully. "Thank you for your generous gift, Lady Freni!"
"Well, go below and rest well. You've earned it after your efforts in the recent battle. We'll discuss your formal appointment once you're refreshed," came the sincere voice of Lady Freni. She nodded with satisfaction at her own directive.
"The subordinate will take leave first," Ryan responded, bowing deeply before exiting the captain's quarters of the ship.
...
Several nautical miles distant from the "Black Rose', a formidable fifth-level sailing cruiser named the 'White Dove' cut through the ocean waves.
"My lord, among the two three-masted ships approximately seven nautical miles ahead, the larger one flies the 'Skull' flag, helmed by Captain 'Roshan' Salem who carries a bounty of 18,000 pounds. The other is the 'Black Rose'," reported the lookout from his high perch.
Lord Sproul, adorned in an elegant wig and aristocratic attire with a sword at his side, furrowed his brow in concern. He knew well the ruthless reputation of the 'Skull'; even other pirates feared their merciless attacks. Salem, the notorious captain, was not someone Lord Sproul could confidently claim to defeat in single combat.
Naval skirmishes, however, were not solely the province of personal duels. The firepower and capabilities of the 'White Dove' far surpassed those of the 'Skull'. Should a confrontation ensue, his crew would undoubtedly hold the upper hand.
Yet, the unexpected presence of the 'Skull' alongside the 'Black Rose' puzzled him. Holding a device akin to a compass, crafted by an inventor known as 'The Lawyer' and called the "Bloody Guide"—Lord Sproul examined it closely. This unique instrument, capable of pinpointing the location of an individual known as "The Son of Blood," now indicated that Ryan Leland was aboard the 'Black Rose'.
If the 'Black Rose' were alone, he would have commanded an immediate attack. However, the presence of the 'Skull' complicated matters. The strength of its crew was a formidable match for his own.
With a mix of reluctance and resolve, Lord Sproul made his decision, his jaw set firmly. "Maintain a discreet distance, keep watch, and report back immediately with any developments," he ordered his crew, preparing for whatever the sea might bring.
After issuing his command, Lord Sproul retreated to the solitude of his captain's cabin, his footsteps echoing faintly in the narrow corridor. Seated at his desk, he opened a drawer and carefully extracted a light green conch, its surface glistening under the dim cabin light.
"El, I need your help. I am at the conch's location," he whispered into the shell, his voice laced with urgency.
Setting the shimmering conch down, Lord Sproul clutched at his chest, grimacing in pain. Calling upon El's aid came with a steep price, a sacrifice he was reluctantly prepared to make. To capture "Blood Son" Ryan Leland, no cost was too great.
The "Bloody Mark" tracking Ryan would fade in less than a week, rendering even the "Lawmen" powerless to pinpoint his exact location thereafter. With less than five days remaining, time was a luxury he couldn't afford. Once the mark expired, finding Ryan in the vast ocean would be akin to searching for a phantom.
Uncertainty clouded Lord Sproul's mind regarding the alliance between the 'Skull' and the 'Black Rose', as well as the relationship between "Roshan" Salem and Ryan Leland. Faced with these unknowns, he could only prepare for the worst. His opportunities were dwindling rapidly...
Meanwhile, aboard the 'Black Rose', in the second officer's cabin, Ryan was making adjustments to his new quarters. Compared to his previous accommodations, this cabin offered more space. He integrated an [Unknown Ship Sculpture] into a wooden box, crafting a miniature "small sailing raft" of the same style. After sliding it under the bed, he let out a weary sigh and collapsed onto the wooden bunk.
Despite Freni's magical abilities to heal physical wounds, they offered no remedy for mental exhaustion. Clutching the "Pirate Potion," Ryan's expression was a mix of hope and trepidation.
The adventurous life he had long dreamed of was now within reach, yet his heart felt heavy. Below the detailed description of the "Pirate Potion," a line of extremely fine print flickered intermittently, as if some unseen force sought to obscure its ominous message. This cryptic text suggested complications he hadn't anticipated, adding a shadow of doubt to his quest.
Previously, his excitement had blinded him, but now, with a clear mind, Ryan scrutinized the potion's label more closely and discovered a chilling detail:
[After using this potion, during the process of spiritual sublimation and professional advancement, you will be targeted by an unknown entity. Upon reaching the seventh level, you will be assimilated.]
A weight settled heavily in Ryan's chest as he read these words. The initial thrill of adventure had vanished, replaced by a profound sense of foreboding.
He was unfamiliar with the "unknown entity" mentioned on the label, but the term "assimilation" carried a sinister implication from any perspective. Although the seventh level seemed a distant goal, the very thought of such a fate made the prospect of advancing in his career daunting.
As he pondered his dilemma, a spark of an idea flickered in Ryan's mind. Perhaps the ominous lock had a range limitation. If he could send a traveling clone to consume the potion and advance in his stead, might he evade the grasp of this mysterious force?
This thought rekindled a flicker of hope and curiosity within him, pushing him towards experimentation.
Unfortunately, it was still midday, and the ability to travel wouldn't be available for another half day. With his heart racing with both excitement and trepidation, Ryan forced himself to calm down.
He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Closing his eyes, he allowed the weariness to envelop him fully, conceding to the need for rest before he could further contemplate his next move.