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Abel frowned as he gnawed on a piece of dried fish meat. Beside him, sitting on a floating bloated leviathan corpse, the other four members of the Fangs of Capitis were chewing on food as well, their expressions equally grim. “How long have we been floating around for?” Abel asked as he spat a bone into his hand before tossing it into the ocean. “You still haven’t made contact with Mistle?”
One of the Fangs, Charlotte, shook her head. “You know how fickle she is. That’s why I chose white mage as a subclass.”
“We’ve been on the ocean for a month, maybe two,” one of the Fangs said. There was a leather whip wrapped around his armored waist, but instead of being brown like it was during the match against Tafel and Alice, it had been bleached white by the sun. “Thank the holy dragons we were teleported with our armor. Can you imagine how burnt we would be if we weren’t?”
“Always looking on the bright side of things, aren’t you?” Abel asked, raising an eyebrow. He finished up the piece of meat in his hand before putting on his helmet. His armored head faced Charlotte. “What’s the point of contracting with an elemental if she doesn’t even appear for months at a time?”
“Hey,” Charlotte said with a frown. She finished her food as well, donning her helmet in a similar manner as Abel. “She’s an ocean elemental—the strongest water elemental out there. There’s no way she would’ve made a contract with me if I had her chained to my side. Elementals have more pride than that.”
“Isn’t that just dandy,” Abel said and snorted. “Look at where we are—the middle of the ocean! How the hell are we supposed to find our way back to land without your elemental’s help? We might be drifting towards the abandoned northern continent for all we know. Goddam useless elementalist, what good are you?”
“Yelling at me won’t help,” Charlotte said, turning her head away. The other members of the Fangs averted their gazes as well. A second later, she raised her hand and pointed. “Hey, am I hallucinating or does that thing actually exist?”
Abel’s gaze followed her finger, landing on a black dot on the horizon. “Something’s there,” he said and stood up, walking to the edge of the leviathan corpse. “A raft? It looks like there’s two people on it.”
“More drifters?” the Fang with a rifle in his lap asked. “Great. We can be lost together.”
“How do you know they’re lost?” the Fang with two axes strapped to his back asked.
The Fang with the rifle shrugged. “Look at them,” he said. “Oh, right. Your eyesight’s not as good as mine. Well, they have no oars, no sail, nothing except for the poorly lashed together logs underneath their bodies. One of them looks dead, and the other looks like a dark elemental. I’ve never seen such a humanoid elemental before.”
Charlotte brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs while chanting under her breath. Abel drew his sword while the other Fangs readied their weapons as well. The leviathan corpse and the raft drifted closer and closer until they were within shouting distance.
The figure that was mistaken for a dark elemental nudged the corpselike figure lying on the raft. “Gale! Gale! Wake up!”
“I’m awake, Breeze,” Gale said as he opened his eyes. They were sunken, and hints of yellow tainted the whites of his eyes. His skin was tanned, dried, and cracked while the hair on his head and face had become brittle and pale. His bones were clearly outlined against his skin like a mummy. He tried to wet his lips with his tongue as he sat up but nothing happened. “Water?”
Breeze shook his head. “It hasn’t rained in a while. There’s no fresh water,” he said and pointed at the leviathan. “But look at that! It’s dead, but it’s floating! Even the fish in the ocean are turning into zombies. Is there anywhere we can go?”
“Are those … people?” Gale asked and shielded his eyes with his hand. His movements were slow as if his body were being controlled by a novice puppeteer. “They’re all armored.”
Breeze sucked in his breath. “Living armor,” he said. “The tier of undead are a lot worse than I thought. If even living armors are crossing the ocean…”
“Hey!” Abel shouted and waved his arms. “Hey! Are you lost?”
“Can living armors speak?” Gale asked. His lower lip cracked, and a bead of blood oozed out. He grimaced and wiped it away with the back of his hand. “They might be people. Real, live people.”
“We’re loster than the lostest blind quadriplegic tasked with wandering through a maze that has no exit,” Breeze shouted while cupping his hands over his mouth. He turned towards Gale. “Living armors only understand real words. If you make some up, they won’t be able to respond.”
“You’re very creative with your words,” Abel shouted back. “Do you know the general direction of land?”
Breeze glared at Abel. The raft and the leviathan had drifted within speaking distance of each other. “If I knew, would I be out here? You’re not a living armor?”
Abel removed his helmet. “I’m a human, you dingus,” he said. “If you’re lost, then scram. Your contractor looks like he’s going to die if a strong wind hits him.”
“You don’t want to invite them on board?” Charlotte asked. “That man looks like he won’t survive for another day without help.”
“He already looks dead,” the axe-wielding Fang said before putting his weapons away. “We have plenty of meat and blood. Good karma should always be sown if possible.”
“Are you kidding me?” Abel asked, his face contorting into a snarl. “What if we run out of food and drink because of him? We have no idea when we’ll reach land. We don’t know if we’ll catch another shark to eat. There’s no need to pick up extra baggage.”
Gale sighed and lay down, staring up at the blue sky. “It seems like they’re lost too, Breeze.”
“The undead apocalypse really did a number on people, huh?” Breeze asked and clicked his tongue. “I can tell they’re pretty strong, but even they had to flee from land. But at least we know there are survivors now.” His voice lowered. “Should I possess one of them?”
“I think they’ve turned slightly insane from drifting for too long,” the Fang with the rifle said. “Hell, I think I’m going insane as well.”
“Guys!” Charlotte shouted. “Mistle’s here! We’re finally saved!”
A blob of water rose up from the ocean, taking the shape of a featureless fish. The fish floated in the air and swiveled around, inspecting its surroundings. “You’re in a real doozy of a situation, aren’t you?” it asked in a melodic voice. “How did you manage something like this?”
“Some wench with horns teleported us out here,” Abel said. “Do you know the way back?”
“Yes, I do,” Mistle said as her fishy body dropped into the water. A current formed, pulling the dead leviathan and raft along. “It’ll take half a month or so. You’re really far out.”