The Ghost Ship retreated even faster than it had appeared.
The dense fog over the sea seemed to be stirred by an invisible giant hand, surging in from all directions toward the black cruise ship and wrapping its outline layer by layer.
Harding's final bolt of lightning struck the fog, raising only a brief ripple without any feedback that it had hit something.
The Storm Eye circled several times at low altitude. Only after confirming that the target had completely left its range of perception did it slowly contract, setting Harding and Dirk back down on the pier. By then, the harbor had been utterly transformed beyond recognition.
Pier Three was covered in drag marks, with cargo containers scattered everywhere like toys.
Several cranes leaned crookedly against nearby buildings. Broken cables still hung from the fractures in their steel frames, swaying gently in the wind. There was quite a lot of blood on the ground, but not many corpses.
The people sucked onto the ship had not even left corpses behind.
Harding stood at the edge of the pier, his chest heaving and fine beads of sweat covering his forehead.
The Storm Eye's full-power output put no small burden on his body, but it remained within what he could endure.
Dirk crouched beside him, one hand pressed to the ground. Shadow Snake's threads slithered swiftly through the rubble, confirming that there were no lingering anomalies or survivors nearby.
"That thing really ran off." Dirk stood and dusted off his hands. "Its energy fluctuations have completely vanished, and no signs of life were detected either."
Harding fell silent at that. After a moment, he nodded without saying anything more.
He took out his communicator and pressed the call button.
"Pier Three at the harbor. The Ghost Ship has retreated. Casualties are