Taking the Mafia to the Magic World - Chapter 1037

Chapter 1037 Fury of the Stars

The ship's violent rocking intensified as the group ventured beyond the relative safety of Light Cay's territorial waters. Waves of unprecedented size, dwarfing anything Larissa and Vicente had encountered in their previous voyages, battered the vessel relentlessly. Each collision felt as if the ship was striking hidden reefs, the floor beneath them shuddering with each impact.

The tumultuous sea rendered standing impossible. Every passenger remained firmly seated, safety belts cinched tight around their bodies, a stark reminder of the perilous journey they had undertaken.

Amidst this nautical chaos, the Flaming Lion, reduced to his diminutive form, was lost in a haze of misery and nausea. Unlike the magicians and special beings capable of regulating their senses, the beast's attributes were intrinsically tied to his physical form. The heightened sensitivity that usually served as an asset now worked against him, amplifying every pitch and roll of the ship.

Cradled in Larissa's arms, the once-mighty creature looked pitiful, his usual vitality sapped by the merciless sea. His condition was so dire that he seemed to teeter on the brink of death, a sight that filled Larissa with a concern.

A brilliant flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the turbulent night, drawing the travelers' attention to the windows. The white streak carved through the hazy sky, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a momentary afterimage in their retinas.

The tempest outside seemed to rage with a personal vendetta against their small vessel. Even the surrounding mana, far more potent than anything they had experienced on Light Cay, felt hostile. It seeped through minuscule gaps in the ship's protective barriers, allowing the crew to feel the raw, terrifying power of the elements they were challenging.

"What kind of phenomenon is this?" Larissa's voice was barely above a whisper, her usually vibrant face now ashen. Her lips were parched, and her large, clear eyes, typically full of curiosity, now reflected a deep-seated worry.

Nan empathized with Larissa's palpable fear. Experiencing the Fury of the Stars for the first time was indeed a terrifying ordeal. Even though this was Nan's third encounter with the phenomenon, she couldn't suppress the flutter of dread in her heart.

Before Nan could offer words, the elf seated beside her spoke up, his voice carrying a mix of awe and trepidation. "They say that when the seas convulse like this, it heralds the rise of emerging pillars, taking the place of Anicane's mightiest ancient experts."

The dwarf, his knuckles white from gripping his seat's supports, added gruffly, "Fury of the Stars—that's what we call this maelstrom we've been enduring for the past few hours." Despite his secure belt, the ship's violent rocking tossed him from side to side.

"Fury of the Stars?" Vicente asked, a spark of curiosity igniting in his eyes despite the fear etched on his face. Aside from his encounter with Demien Bloodthorne, nothing had ever made him feel so vulnerable.

"I'll do my utmost to maintain your physical and spiritual conditions," Vicente announced, his voice strained but resolute. "We must press on. We will overcome this trial and claim the spoils left by those who faltered on this treacherous path!"

The men controlling Nan's ship silently agreed, having no choice but to work hard.

The Fury of the Stars could last a whole week and they were only on the first day of this terrible storm!

...

Days blurred together as Vicente's group endured the relentless assault of the Fury of the Stars. The seas and skies seemed to harbor a particular vendetta, their fury surpassing even the limits known to Nan and her seasoned companions.

What should have been a week-long storm stretched into an unending nightmare, reaching its ninth day that afternoon.

The once-pristine ship, fortified with multiple protective formations, now bore the scars of its harrowing journey. Rust marred its surfaces, and its magical barriers had shrunk and weakened. Yet, despite its battered appearance, the vessel remained intact, its crew bowed but unbroken.

Even Vicente, the pillar of strength among them, was a shadow of his former self. His skin, now pale as parchment, clung to his bones, veins visible beneath the translucent surface. This decrepit figure stood in stark contrast to the vibrant man of mere weeks ago.

Pain etched every line of Vicente's face, his parched skin, sunken eyes, and inflamed gums. Yet consciousness clung to him, an indigo pentagram glowing around his form as he continued his tireless efforts to protect the crew.

In this state of near-collapse, Vicente's bleary eyes caught sight of something extraordinary—a different quality of light on the distant horizon. A celestial glow pierced through the roiling clouds, illuminating an area not far ahead.

"Brace yourselves," he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're breaking free of the storm!"

Following his words, the ship's defense systems shut down and all the pressure that had been attacking them for the last few days disappeared!