Chapter 36: Mirtha the Musketeer

Ian's laugh echoed unabashedly through the room, his shoulders shaking with amusement. Across from him, Leah shot him an annoyed glare, her eyes brimming with mock irritation.

Ian had intentionally left his earlier words vague, fully aware of how they might sound. It was his way of teasing her.

"You don't think I'm joking, do you?" Ian asked, his smirk widening as he observed the faint traces of skepticism in Leah's otherwise calm demeanor.

"I'm serious," he added, his tone steady. "This is an official invitation, Leah. I want you to join my crew—as the first mate."

For a moment, Leah stared at him, her lips pressed together, as if trying to determine the sincerity of his offer.

"You've lived on Paradise Isle all this time," Ian pressed on, sensing her hesitation. "But the Sea of Wonders is vast. Don't you want to see what's out there?"

Leah's expression shifted, a faint smirk forming at the corner of her mouth. "Do you even have a ship, Mr. Traister?"

Ian rose suddenly, his energy infectious. "Follow me."

Leah sighed, but her curiosity got the better of her as she followed him up the spiral staircase to the observation deck.

The tower's roof, still bearing the scars of its damaged spire, was littered with debris. Ignoring the mess, Ian pointed to the cliffside below, where a sleek, compact galley lay moored at the water's edge.

A peculiar sight awaited—ropes moved seemingly of their own accord, sorting supplies and neatly retying knots that had been carelessly secured by Mirtha earlier.

"That's my ship," Ian announced with pride. "It may not look like much, but it's powered by a propeller. No ordinary sailboat could hope to catch it."

Leah's response, or lack thereof, was telling. Ian knew then that his invitation had fallen on deaf ears.

"You don't want to come," he said softly, the corners of his mouth twitching with a resigned smile.

Leah's eyes remained fixed on the distant waves. Her voice was almost carried away by the wind when she finally replied, "I can't."

The sea had once been her home. But after that fateful injury, it had become her exile.

Ian hesitated, words forming on his tongue but never spoken. Was it that she didn't want to leave, couldn't leave, or simply didn't dare to?

Yet even if he asked, what right did he have to interfere in her life?

The two stood in silence, the gusting wind the only thing between them.

"I should go," Leah said at last, turning toward the stairs. Ian followed her down and to the door.

Before she could leave, Ian reached out, placing something in her hands.

"A parting gift," he said with a faint grin. "And no refusing this time, or I'll be thoroughly embarrassed. Maybe we'll meet again someday—and when we do, you'd better have a gift ready for me too."

Leah blinked, startled by the unexpected gesture. With a small, bemused smile, she cupped her hands under his and caught the tiny vial he dropped into them.

Inside, a single red droplet shimmered with a faintly glowing aura. Even through the crystal, its spiritual energy was unmistakable.

"This is something I picked up during my travels. It can heal wounds and alleviate curses. I think it might help you," Ian explained lightly.

For a moment, Leah stared at the vial, her fingers curling around it. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, "I can't accept this."

Ian stepped back, avoiding her attempt to return it. "It's of no use to me," he said simply.

Leah's skeptical gaze hardened. She didn't believe him for a second. Such an artifact was invaluable to anyone, especially someone like Ian.

She pressed closer, her hand extended. "I haven't agreed to join your crew. Your future first mate might need it more than I do."

Ian's smile grew faint, but his tone remained firm. "What you choose to do with it doesn't change my decision to give it to you."

Leah froze, caught off guard by his words.

Before she could say anything else, Ian stepped inside and shut the door.

"I need to meditate now," he said through the wood. "Safe travels, Leah. Until we meet again."

Leah raised her hand to knock but hesitated. Slowly, she let it drop to her side.

That evening, Ian ordered extra food from the tavern, knowing from memory that awakening one's spirit always left a ravenous hunger in its wake.

Mirtha's spiritual energy had steadily grown since the ritual, now stabilizing. Ian estimated he'd wake soon.

When Mirtha finally opened his eyes, he found Ian seated at the table, smiling warmly at him. For a moment, dream and reality blurred as the young man struggled to reconcile what had just happened.

"I… I've become extraordinary?" Mirtha whispered, staring at his hands as if searching for some physical change.

His body felt the same, yet entirely different—stronger, sharper, as if years of training had been compressed into an instant.

Without hesitation, Mirtha strode to Ian, dropping to one knee. With a knightly bow, he solemnly declared, "Your will is my mission."

Ian's smile softened. "This is only the beginning, Mirtha. The path of the extraordinary is a long one. Keep that determination—and your humility."

As they ate, Mirtha couldn't contain his excitement, eagerly recounting the surreal training he'd undergone in his dream and the abilities he'd awakened.

Ian listened, reassured. The card hadn't stripped Mirtha of his personality or spirit—it had merely enhanced his potential.

Mirtha's newfound spiritual musket, capable of firing almost undodgeable bullets, came with immense power but clear limits. Ian noted the weapon's range and energy costs, already planning to supplement it with an alchemical firearm for greater versatility.

It was only the start of Mirtha's journey, but Ian felt a rare surge of confidence. Destiny had a strange way of guiding him, and he was ready to see where it led next.