The cultist stared at Kaelira flatly.
"Stop asking stupid questions."
A brief pause followed.
"As if you suddenly developed memory problems."
Without waiting for a response, she turned toward the ship.
"Get onboard."
Her voice remained calm and firm.
"We're leaving the city exactly like my lord ordered."
The pilot adjusted the heavy supply bags hanging over one shoulder and nodded casually.
"Yeah, Kaelira, what's with that?"
He gestured toward the restored vessel behind them.
"Wasn't it already obvious?"
Kaelira frowned faintly before clicking her tongue in annoyance.
"…It just came out."
"Then stop letting things come out," the cultist replied immediately.
Kaelira looked mildly offended.
"That sounded more hostile than necessary."
"It was meant to."
The pilot snorted quietly while walking toward the lowered boarding ramp.
"Honestly, I don't think she can help herself anymore."
The cultist didn't deny it.
Which somehow made the statement significantly worse.
Above them—
massive cargo rails thundered through the smoky evening sky while suspended maintenance platforms drifted away from the repaired vessel one after another.
The ship itself looked far more stable now.
The damaged stabilizer fins had been fully restored.
Fractured sections of the hull had been sealed cleanly.
Fresh mana lines glowed faintly beneath the outer plating while the circulation systems hummed with renewed stability.
Workers moved away carrying tools and repair equipment while final inspection arrays flickered across the surface of the hull.
Kaelira glanced toward the distant skyline while walking beside the others.
"…You really think something's going to happen?"
The cultist answered without slowing her pace.
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
Only absolute certainty.
The pilot muttered under his breath,
"…Comforting."
Together, they stepped onto the boarding ramp.
Metal clanged softly beneath their footsteps while warm engine vibrations pulsed faintly through the structure of the ship itself.
Several dock workers were already disconnecting the final external anchor lines from the vessel.
One of them shouted upward—
"Clear on the lower locks!"
Another voice answered from above—
"Port stabilizers disconnected!"
The ship's mana engines emitted a deeper, heavier hum in response.
Inside the vessel—
Lyriana stood near the main controls within the control deck while Nia remained quietly beside her, still holding the small pastry bag carefully against her chest.
Both of them turned toward the entrance as approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor.
The door slid open.
Kaelira entered first.
Then the pilot carrying enough food supplies to survive a siege.
Then the cultist.
Lyriana immediately looked toward her.
"…Everything is prepared?"
The cultist nodded once.
"The repairs are complete."
A brief pause followed.
"We leave immediately."
Kaelira exhaled softly while leaning one shoulder against the corridor wall.
"…Still feels weird."
The pilot blinked.
"What does?"
"That we're actually leaving because the master got angry."
Silence followed.
The cultist's eyes shifted toward her briefly before she answered in a calm voice,
"We are not running."
A pause.
"We are creating distance."
The pilot stared at her for two full seconds.
"…That is literally the same thing."
"It sounds more professional."
Kaelira snorted quietly.
"Still don't see why."
Then—
deep beneath Blackwater's layered skyline—
far away from the suspended docks and crowded industrial sectors—
Draven remained seated silently beneath the massive steel support arch while artificial wind drifted faintly through the quiet park.
The city around him still moved normally.
People walked through illuminated pathways.
Transit rails thundered overhead.
Distant conversations echoed softly beneath glowing lanterns.
Completely unaware that something inside the city was slowly approaching a breaking point.
The ship shuddered softly as the main mana engines fully activated beneath the hull.
A deep mechanical vibration spread through the vessel while glowing propulsion arrays ignited one after another beneath the restored stabilizer fins.
Outside—
dock workers stepped back from the boarding platforms while the final anchor locks disengaged with heavy metallic clanks.
Then—
slowly—
the ship began to rise.
Wind exploded outward beneath the hull as the vessel ascended into Blackwater's smoky skyline.
Cargo rails passed below them.
Towering steel frameworks drifted beneath the ship.
The suspended sky docks gradually shrank as the vessel climbed higher through layers of industrial haze and glowing transit lanes.
Inside the control deck—
the pilot rested both hands across the navigation controls while glowing runic displays flickered across the front panels.
"…Alright."
He adjusted one of the steering arrays as the ship tilted slightly westward.
"So where exactly are we heading?"
A pause followed.
"I understand we need to leave the city…"
He glanced sideways briefly.
"…but flying randomly into the horizon sounds like a terrible long-term strategy."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then—
Lyriana answered calmly from near the rear control station.
"West."
The pilot blinked once.
"…West?"
Silence followed her answer.
The pilot stared ahead through the massive viewing glass where Blackwater's endless industrial skyline stretched beneath drifting smoke and glowing transit lanes.
"…West," he repeated.
Then he shrugged.
"Alright."
No argument.
No further questions.
At this point—
everyone aboard the ship had already learned something important.
When Draven gave an order—
it was usually far smarter to obey first and ask questions later.
The pilot adjusted the navigation arrays while glowing runes shifted across the control panels beneath his hands.
Outside—
the ship continued climbing higher through Blackwater's layered skyline.
Suspended cargo rails drifted below them.
Towering steel frameworks passed beneath the hull.
Neon lights blurred through smoke-filled haze while distant mana towers glowed faintly between the city's endless industrial structures.
Then—
the ship tilted fully westward.
The propulsion arrays beneath the vessel flared brighter.
And the ship accelerated.
Wind roared violently across the outer hull as Blackwater slowly began to disappear behind them.
Inside the control deck—
nobody spoke for a long while.
Only the steady hum of the mana engines filled the room.
Kaelira leaned silently against the rear wall while staring out toward the distant city.
The pilot focused entirely on guiding the vessel through the crowded upper air lanes.
Lyriana stood calmly near the rear controls.
Nia sat quietly beside one of the side panels while holding the small pastry bag against her chest.
The cultist remained near the center of the room with folded arms.
Watching.
Waiting.
Thinking.
Far below—
Blackwater still looked alive.
Busy.
Normal.
Industrial smoke drifted endlessly upward beneath layers of steel bridges and glowing transit rails.
Thousands of lights flickered through the evening haze.
People continued moving through the streets completely unaware that something dangerous still remained inside the city.
Kaelira stared toward the shrinking skyline for several more seconds before finally muttering quietly,
"…Feels strange leaving like this."
The pilot never looked away from the controls.
"Feels smart to me."
A brief pause followed.
"I've survived this long by leaving places before they turn into disasters."
Honestly—
that was completely fair logic.
Kaelira glanced sideways toward the cultist.
"…You really think the master's going to do something? I bet it'll be fun."
The cultist remained silent briefly before answering calmly,
"I believe my lord is already restraining himself."
The atmosphere inside the control deck immediately grew heavier after those words.
Even Kaelira stopped talking.
Outside—
the ship pushed further west through the darkening sky while Blackwater slowly faded deeper into the industrial haze behind them.
And far below—
beneath towering steel structures and glowing park lanterns—
Draven still sat silently beneath the massive support arch while faint crimson light flickered beneath the hood like restrained fire—
waiting patiently for the moment it would finally be allowed to burn.