With a resounding clang, a visible shockwave erupted, scattering wood chips and dust into the air. A figure staggered backwards under the force, carving deep grooves into the wooden deck.
"One-eyed" Santas, eyes narrowed, extended his hand in a commanding gesture, a spectral light swirling in his palm as he attempted to summon the spear back to him. To his astonishment, though his call was answered, the spear remained immobile, as if ensnared by an unseen force.
A perplexed frown creased Santas' brow as he fixed his gaze on the silhouette emerging from the swirling debris.
As the dust settled, the pirates and Santas beheld the sight of a young man, defiantly holding his ground. In one hand he brandished a sword; in the other, he gripped the silver spear that vibrated violently, attempting to escape. Yet, his grasp was unyielding, firm as iron, thwarting the spear's frantic efforts to break free.