Chapter 20: What Goes Up, Must Come Down

The interior of the airship was in complete disarray. Tables, chairs—even the light fixtures—had been flung across the dining room. This was where most of the passengers had been evacuated. Normally, in an emergency, protocol dictated that passengers be moved to the open-air decks for easier rescue. But given the chaos outside, the staff had made the obvious call—lock everyone inside.

Yet, that did nothing to silence the horrifying sounds of battle. The passengers flinched as they heard the screams and yells from the deck above. Then—a deep, metallic groan. The ship shuddered as something massive tore into it. Each creak and crack of metal signaled the slow dismemberment of their vessel. Someone muttered, voice trembling—“Giant hedgehog… it’s a giant hedgehog.” No one laughed.

A child wailed somewhere in the crowd, and the sound shattered whatever calm had remained. Parents clutched their children tighter. A young woman whispered a prayer to a god she didn’t believe in. No one moved, but everyone’s heart was racing toward the same horrifying conclusion.

The ship tilted sharply forward. The air pressure shifted, and suddenly, passengers were sliding toward the lower end of the room. Outsiders reacted first, linking arms, grabbing onto furniture, and pulling people to safety. One woman nearly impaled herself on a jagged chair leg, but at the last second, an extraordinarily long-limbed local snagged her mid-slide, reeling her back to the huddled crowd.

Still, with each passing second, the tilt worsened. The ship wasn’t stabilizing. It felt like they were tumbling forward through the sky. Like they were falling.

Someone’s panicked realization cut through the murmurs. “Are we crashing?! WE’RE CRASHING!” The words ignited a chain reaction. The crowd erupted into chaos, people climbing over each other, screaming, shoving—desperate to escape the inevitable. The staff and outsiders did their best to contain the panic, but fear overpowered reason. Nothing they said reached the passengers.

Until the cracking glass silenced them all.

It started as a hairline fracture on the glass wall behind them. Slowly—agonizingly—it spread upward, creeping like a growing scar. Each snap of breaking glass twisted their stomach into knots. By the time it reached the ceiling, everyone knew what would happen next. The glass was going to give.

And then—

It did.

A massive shard broke loose, plummeting straight toward the screaming crowd. Some faced their imminent death with stoic resolve. Others shut their eyes, praying this was all a horrible dream. Most? They ran. Even knowing it was pointless, they ran.

“LEVITATION!” A voice boomed over the chaos. The glass froze mid-air. Suspended mere inches from a passenger’s face. The sheer terror was too much—the man passed out on the spot.

All eyes turned toward the source of the voice. A figure wrapped in a cloak stood tall, balancing with ease on the tilted floor. Beside her, a smaller woman with a massive tome and a staff steadied her with one hand. The cloaked woman cupped her hands, shouting, “Alright, people! Listen up!” Her voice rang with authority, cutting through the fear and confusion. “We either get to the control tower or we all die. Got it?” She gestured sharply toward the upper levels. “MOVE IT! ALL ABLE-BODIED ADVENTURERS—GET TO THE DECK. NOW!”

The smaller woman tugged on the other’s robe, her voice hushed but insistent. “I could have… did… done it, you know.” She fumbled over her words, cheeks flushing slightly.

The taller woman waved a hand dismissively, still directing people with sharp, commanding gestures. “Nonsense!” she declared. She threw the smaller woman a grin over her shoulder. “You’re much too cute to be shouting like that!”

* * *

“You’re sure you can’t do anything?” Lucian gritted his teeth, his hands clutching onto a boulder embedded in the tilting deck. The airship was in freefall now, and the angle was getting worse.

Ru shrugged, completely unbothered. “Nope. Not on something this big.” His damaged headwear flapped in the wind, a long gash running from the eye slit down to the edge of the fabric—a souvenir from Faust’s sword toss. Lucian finally got a better look at what lay underneath. The glowing tattoos on Ru’s skin pulsed—not just markings, but living, shifting symbols of magic. “Not alone, at least,” Ru added.

Lucian jerked a thumb toward the two remaining tattooed men—they were busy gathering the corpses of their fallen brethren. “What about them?! Won’t they be able to help?!”

Ru didn’t answer right away. He just… sat there. Back on his claimed rock, watching. Observing. His gaze locked onto the two Rune Mages, their tattoos flickering as they worked. Lucian could see his brain turning, gears shifting—but they didn’t have time for this.

“Well?!” Lucian snapped.

Ru finally turned to him and spoke in his usual, irritatingly casual tone. “Yup. Their magic can help mine. But the aid we’ll provide is… minuscule.”

Lucian rolled his shoulders. “That’s fine!” He crouched low, boots glowing faint yellow. “Whatever help you can give will have to do.”

Ru raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going?”

Lucian cracked his neck, eyes locked on the control tower. “To the control tower.”

Ru tilted his head. “To huddle with the rest of the passengers?”

Lucian’s boots flared brighter. “No.” He exhaled, his muscles coiling like a spring. “I’m going to save our lives.” With a burst of light, he launched himself upward.

Ru watched him leap from boulder to boulder, climbing his way toward the control tower’s shattered window, where, through the jagged glass, he could see people already scrambling inside.

“Aww, why did he have to say something so cringe?” Raven appeared back on deck, Aurora and a few others trailing behind her. She crossed her arms, pouting. “Now I’m kinda hoping he fails.”

Ru chuckled. “That’s some friend you’ve got there.” He finally hopped off his rock, stretching. “He’s got a fire in his spirit that just won’t go out.” He continued, “So, how many people do we have?”

Raven gestured broadly. “Well, there’s six of us. You, me, this cutie-patootie, Sphyx, and the two muscle men over there.” She turned to the ragtag adventurers behind her, some looking more formidable than others. “And then we’ve got these yahoos. Twenty of ‘em. That makes twenty-six.”

“Hey!” One of the adventurers protested. “We’re not just yahoos!”

Raven whipped around and snapped. “Shut it!” She pointed an accusing finger. “Didn’t you all come aboard ‘cause you heard rumors of a Master Beast crashing airships?” The adventurers shuffled awkwardly. “And what did you do at the first sign of actual danger?” Her voice dripped with mockery. “You ran away and hid!” She jabbed her finger toward them again, eyes gleaming smugly. “That makes you yahoos in my book.”

A wave of grumbling rolled through the group—some angrily muttering under their breath. But before anyone could argue, Raven grabbed Aurora and hoisted her into the air like a prized trophy. “LOOK AT HER!” She spun around, showcasing the tiny Wizard like a parent proudly presenting a child’s first magic trick. “LOOK AT THIS CUTIE!” Aurora’s glasses slipped slightly as she blinked in confusion. "DO YOU THINK SHE RAN AWAY AND HID?!” Raven shook the poor Wizard slightly for emphasis. “NO! SHE STAYED AND FOUGHT! AND THEN—” She paused dramatically. “SHE CAME BACK TO SAVE YOU YAHOOS FROM GETTING SPLATTERED!”

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A beat of silence followed. A tiny, hesitant wave. “H-Hi,” Aurora murmured. The adventurers mumbled among themselves, shuffling their feet. Satisfied, Raven put Aurora down. “Th-Thank you,” the Wizard mumbled, adjusting her hat.

Raven grinned, patting her on the head. “No problem, cutie.”

Ru finally raised both hands, stepping forward. “Alright, enough fun.” His voice commanded attention. “I need a clear space on the deck. So if you’d all be so kind…”

* * *

One more jump. Lucian propelled himself upward, his boots glowing faintly as they launched him onto the deck of the control tower. He landed with ease, barely making a sound, thanks to the Master Boots’ enhanced Agility. If I’d known how amazing these would be, I would’ve crafted them first.

Straightening, he scanned his surroundings. A glass wall separated him from the control room, similar to the ones on the deck below. But when his gaze fell on the interior, his stomach dropped. A familiar red blade gleamed inside the control tower.

Lucian’s breath caught. A cultist of the Red Blade had made it inside. Almost everyone was dead. The only survivor was the captain, unmistakable in his broad, gold-trimmed hat. Lucian slammed a fist against the glass. “Hey! STOP THAT!”

The cultist turned her head, staring at him through a smooth, featureless red mask. Unlike the robed Soldiers below, her attire was sleek, fitted, and lined with black and dark blue. A design built for stealth.

An Assassin. They must have slipped aboard during the first attack. Lucian gritted his teeth and pounded the glass with his shield, but nothing cracked. Damn it! The Assassin turned away, raising her blade to finish the captain.

Lucian scanned the room, brain racing. There’s no time! Then, an idea. He backpedaled across the deck, crouched low, the Master Boots humming with energy, charging. He sprinted forward, the deck cracking apart beneath him as his speed skyrocketed. At the last moment, he jumped. His booted foot slammed into the glass.

The entire wall exploded inward. Lucian sailed through the shards, foot connecting cleanly with the Assassin’s mask. The cultist’s body snapped backward, rocketing across the room and straight into the wall. Lucian landed hard, boots scraping against the floor. The Assassin, however, didn’t move. She wasn’t breathing.

Lucian whirled. His relief vanished instantly. The captain was slumped over his console, the cultist’s blade already buried in his throat. “Damn it!” Lucian slammed a fist on the nearest console.

The plan had been simple. Get the crew to steer toward a safe landing zone. Use the distraction to hunt the Master Beast. Maybe—if he got lucky—kill it in one hit. But now? Now, he had no one to steer the ship but himself.

Lucian inhaled sharply. He scanned the room, eyes locking onto the central wheel. That’s gotta be important. He took position behind it, gripping the handles. From here, he could see everything ahead of the ship. And that’s when his confidence crashed.

Ahead of them—nothing but mountains and dense, endless forest. No open land. No clearing. No water. Just towering trees, and the jagged rock beneath them. Lucian’s throat tightened. Where the hell am I supposed to land this thing?! He scanned frantically, eyes darting over the landscape, but everywhere, the same reality: no safe way down.

His vision blurred. The left side of his sight darkened, like ink spreading over paper. What the hell?! Am I passing out?! Now?! Of all times?!

A voice echoed in his mind. “Hello? Can you hear me, Lucian?”

Lucian froze. His eye twitched. Ugh. Not this guy.

* * *

“Clear the deck of these rocks.” The command came from the man in green, his voice even and firm.

Immediately, protests erupted. “Why do we have to do it?” “Can’t we just move them with magic?” “Yeah! We have spells for this!” But their grumbling was cut short. The older adventurers in the crowd—the ones who recognized the man before them—shut them down with pointed remarks. “What use is that high Strength stat if you can’t even lift a rock?” The fear of being called out had the rest quickly falling in line. They worked together, systematically clearing the boulders one by one—until a large open space stretched across the deck.

Ru, Raven, and Aurora stepped forward, turning toward the two tattooed men who had remained near the rubble. One of them held a corpse in his arms.

Ru rolled up his sleeves. “Sorry for your loss, but we don’t have much time.” His tone was not unkind—just direct. “We need to prioritize landing the ship so we don’t join your brethren.”

The man carrying the body raised a hand. “No worries,” he said. His voice was steady. “It’s only been about two minutes. We still have time.”

Ru arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Seasoned adventurers, are you?”

The other man nodded, carefully setting the corpse down. “What do you need us to do?”

Ru pointed to the open space on the deck. “One of you—cast a Clairvoyance Rune here.”

“Consider it done.” One of the tattooed men knelt down, his muscles flexing as the glowing tattoos across his body shifted. The rune began to take form—first expanding across his back, then shrinking, moving down his arm, spiraling onto his palm, before finally transferring onto the deck. The wooden planks shimmered, overtaken by a blank, static-like space. “What do I project?” the man asked.

But Ru didn’t answer him directly. Instead, he turned to the other Rune Mage. “Do you know how to mold the Visual Hijack Rune?”

The man stiffened slightly, then nodded. “Y-Yes. We only learned it recently. It’s a high-level Rune Mage spell, but… I can perform it without a problem.”

Ru grinned. “Perfect. Now, channel the rune toward the control room in that tower.” He pointed to the highest point of the ship, where Lucian was. “There’s only one person in there. The rune should latch onto him easily.”

Raven crossed her arms, stepping beside Ru. “Wow. How’d you even know that kind of rune existed?”

Ru had already pulled up his [Menu]. Without looking at her, he smirked. “Just years of experience, Ms. Vespertine,” he replied smoothly, tapping Lucian’s name in the [Party Status] tab. He cleared his throat. “Hello? Can you hear me, Lucian?”

“How are you—” Raven began, but she was cut off by the sudden, crystal-clear sound of Lucian’s voice, as if he were standing right beside her.

“Hello?! Hello?! What the hell is going on? How are you talking to me?! And what the hell are you doing to my eye?!” Lucian’s voice crackled with a faint static, and then—without warning—a crisp image materialized on the deck floor. It took Raven a second to realize that it was a live feed of Lucian’s view from the control tower.

Ru’s voice remained infuriatingly calm. “What are you talking about? This has always been a standard feature for party members.” He paused. “The talking, I mean. Your eye? That’s a different story.”

Raven leaned toward Aurora. “Did you know about this?”

“N-No,” Aurora admitted, her fingers twitching nervously. “And I really hope Sphyx isn’t here to find out about it.”

Meanwhile, Lucian was still spiraling. “Nothing to worry about?! Are you crazy?!”

“Yes, Lucian, you’ll be fine,” Ru assured him. “Once we remove the spell, your eye will go back to normal. Now, listen up. I can see that we’re near Darham. It may look like there’s nowhere to land, but the area below is actually swampy.”

“Great, so we can land anywhere?” Lucian asked.

Raven was impressed—where had that temper gone all of a sudden? That thought vanished as she noticed passengers finally pouring into the control room, huddling around Lucian.

Ru continued. “Yes, but we need to be smart about this if we want to minimize the damage.”

Lucian scoffed. “Minimize the damage? We’re falling out of the sky, Ru!”

“Trust me, Lucian. Once we’re through the trees, I’ll handle the landing,” Ru said, his glowing tattoos shifting once more. “Just stay calm. Don’t start a panic.”

Lucian exhaled sharply. “Fine. I trust you.”

Everyone held their breath as the airship plummeted closer to the ground. The adventurers tensed. The passengers clung to each other. Even Raven and Aurora, who had seen Ru pull off some absurd feats before, were on edge.

Suddenly, a massive shadow blotted out the trees below. Lucian’s stomach dropped. “The Tunneler!” The Master Beast flapped its comically tiny wings and veered away, abandoning the sinking airship like a rat fleeing a doomed vessel.

“Lucian! Focus on the forest!” Ru shouted. The image on the deck projection remained unchanged—Lucian’s gaze was still locked onto the Master beast as it fled. “Lucian!” Ru bellowed again.

For what felt like an eternity, Lucian hesitated. Then, finally, he tore his eyes away from the retreating creature and snapped his focus back to the treeline they were seconds from colliding with. The airship struck the canopy like a battering ram. Branches splintered, leaves exploded into the air, and the entire vessel shuddered violently as it smashed through the trees. Everyone inside was thrown about, barely managing to keep their footing.

Except for Ru. He stood firm, unshaken, watching the projection below him with an eerie calm. The trees thinned. Then—suddenly—they were in open space. A lake stretched out to their side. Ru didn’t hesitate. He raised a hand, a glowing emblem forming in his palm.

One second, the ship was barreling toward another tree. The next—it wasn’t.

The entire airship jolted midair, then settled. The violent plunge stopped. A stunned silence fell over the passengers as they realized they were no longer crashing.

Instead, they were floating. On water.

Lucian blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with reality. “What the hell just happened?” he asked, more to himself than anyone else.

From the deck, Ru’s voice rang out, smug as ever. “Emblem Magic, baby.”