Canna boarded the ship with an eager smile, his feet tapping lightly against the wooden deck as he took in the scene before him. Four figures stood ready at the forefront, with Captain Drennard leading the charge. His broad figure, wild hair, and the mischievous gleam in his eye all scread of a man who had seen more than his fair share of adventures on the high seas. Canna had a good feeling about this crew already.
Drennard approached him first, clapping a hand on Canna's shoulder as he turned to introduce the crew. "Let introduce ya to the heart and soul of this vessel, lad. These three will make sure this ship sails wherever ye need it to go, even if that ans through hell itself."
First, Drennard pointed to a tall, imposing figure standing beside the ship's main mast. Kaelor, the defense master, towered above the rest. His stature was intimidating, his muscles rippling beneath his armor. His expression was calm, almost serene, as though the dangers of the sea and the monsters that lurked beneath it held no fear for him. A scar ran down the side of his face, a testant to the battles he had fought, and his deep blue eyes carried the wisdom of countless voyages.
"Kaelor here handles the defenses," Drennard explained. "When monsters co at us—and believe , they will—he's the one takin' 'em down. He's also in charge of the ship's safety, makin' sure no beast sinks us to the bottom of the ocean. Ain't no one better suited for the job. True-transcendent, this one."
Kaelor gave Canna a nod, his voice deep and asured. "If you're looking to sail into danger, I'll make sure nothing touches this ship while we're out there."
Canna grinned and shook the man's hand, feeling the strength behind Kaelor's grip. "Good to have you with us."
Next, Drennard turned toward a man who lounged lazily near the rigging, a playful smirk on his face. Finnick, with his wild hair and roguish charm, looked like the type who never took anything too seriously. But there was a sharpness in his eyes, and his gaze never seed to leave the horizon. He was constantly scanning the sea, watching for the slightest change in the waves or the sky.
"Finnick," Drennard continued, "is the one who keeps the sails in check and the wind in our favor. He's a bit eccentric, aye, but when it cos to navigation and scouting, there ain't anyone better. He's got a feel for the ocean like it's an extension of himself."
Finnick gave a wink and extended a hand. "I keep us moving, and I see things before anyone else does. You got nothing to worry about, boss."
Canna shook his hand with a chuckle. "I'm sure you do. Let's keep this ship sailing smooth."
Finally, Drennard gestured to a small, energetic beastkin woman, who was busy checking the cannons and adjusting the supplies on deck. Linna, a cute, short beastkin with fluffy ears and a quick smile, had a bounce in her step as she worked. Her job, it seed, was more than just tending to the ship—she was also responsible for making sure Canna had whatever he needed during the journey.
"And this little one here," Drennard said with a grin, "is Linna. She'll take care of ye, lad—whether ye need a al, a drink, or soone to tend to the cannons. And trust , ye want her behind those cannons when things get rough."
Linna looked up from her work, her bright eyes eting Canna's. She gave a friendly salute. "Anything you need, just say the word! Oh, and if things get ssy, I'll make sure these cannons do the talking."
Canna returned her smile, amused by her energy. "Glad to have you onboard, Linna."
With introductions complete, Canna pulled out three large barrels from his storage ring and set them down on the deck. The sight of the barrels imdiately caught Drennard's attention, his eyes widening with barely concealed glee.
"Is that what I think it is?" Drennard asked, practically drooling at the sight of the barrels.
Canna nodded. "The finest beer. Consider it a down paynt."
Drennard let out a loud, hearty laugh, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "Aye, lad! Now ye're speakin' my language! With this in our stores, we'll sail anywhere ye need us to go, no matter how long it takes. Only condition—every so often, we'll need to stop at ports to resupply."
Canna couldn't help but laugh as well. "Deal. Now, how about our first destination?"
Drennard narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, stroking his beard. "Where to, lad?"
Canna's grin widened. "Take to an island. One with the most ferocious monsters you know of."
Drennard raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, ho, lad. Ye sure about that?"
Canna nodded firmly. "I'm certain."
The captain thought for a mont before his face lit up with a wicked smile. "I know just the place. There's an island out west, filled with cyclops. Big ones, nasty ones. Most folk don't go near it 'cause the cyclops attack anything that sets foot on their land. The island's mostly unexplored on account of it."
"That's the one," Canna said, excitent in his voice.
Drennard slapped his knee and shouted to his crew. "Prepare to sail, ye bastards!"
In unison, the crew shouted back, "AYE!"
With that, the ship sprang to life, the crew hustling around the deck, securing the sails and preparing for departure. Canna stood at the bow of the ship, a smile on his face as he looked out toward the horizon. This would be his first sea expedition, and he could already feel the thrill of adventure bubbling up inside him.
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anwhile, back to Malon's mission…
After three days and two nights of grueling travel, Malon and his team finally reached their destination—the nest of the monsters they were tasked with hunting. The sight before them was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The nest was an enormous, sprawling structure made of twisted roots and earth, with tunnels that seed to lead deep into the ground. And guarding it were the monsters—ant-like creatures, their carapaces gleaming in the dim light, their mandibles snapping nacingly.
These weren't just any ants—they were the worst kind, the type that could spew acid and tear through armor with their destructive mandibles. The mission, which had been labeled as a simple C-rank with reports of only low-calamity ants, seed horribly misreported. The monsters they now faced were far stronger—Great Calamities, even True Calamities—much more dangerous than what they had been led to believe.
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Reolus and Celia, two mbers of the group who hailed from prestigious clans, exchanged worried glances. They had taken this mission to earn easy points, but what lay before them was anything but easy.
"Sothing's not right," Celia whispered, her voice trembling with fear.
Reolus nodded in agreent, his eyes wide. "This is beyond what we signed up for. We should report back to the guild and let the clans handle this. There's no way we're dealing with this on our own."
It was a logical plan—turn around, report the discrepancy, and let more capable adventurers deal with the threat. But when they looked back at their companions, they were t with a sight that filled them with even more dread.
The three shock troops that had been sent with them were already moving toward the nest. Clad in white robes, the shock troops showed no hesitation as they charged straight into the sea of ant monsters.
"IDIOTS!" Celia scread. "NO! YOU'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"
Reolus, panic rising in his chest, grabbed Celia's arm. "Co on! We need to leave now! If they stir up the nest, more of these monsters are going to co out!"
Without waiting for her response, Reolus turned and sprinted away, dragging Celia with him. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, communication artifacts in hand, as they sent frantic ssages back to their clan, detailing the situation.
anwhile, back at the ant nest, one of the shock troops, Maggi, fought against the tide of monsters with a wild grin on his face. Dodging left and right, he launched close-combat fire spells, each one obliterating the ants in his path.
"Malon!" Maggi shouted, his voice filled with a mix of urgency and humor. "Can we hurry this up? My stomach's killing —I think it's from your cooking!"
Malon, leader of the shock troops, casually decapitated a massive ant with his dual chakrams, sparing Maggi a quick glance. "You'll live."
Another mber of their team, Jean, a shock troop with a nature affinity, stood at a distance, casually summoning vines to ensnare any monsters that got too close to Malon or Maggi. She barely needed to heal the two, only occasionally casting buffs while dealing with enemies in their blind spots.
For anyone watching from the outside—like Reolus and Celia—the scene would have seed suicidal, with three individuals fighting a horde of monsters far beyond their rank. But for the shock troops, it was just another day.
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