Although a strange twist of fate had allowed him to wipe out the pirates, Renato still doubted whether he could return to human society aboard the Hispaniola after inspecting the sailing ship, its deck battered and its hull half stranded on a shoal.
Fortunately, his fears proved unfounded. This unassuming three-masted warship was actually a Magic Ship capable of carrying two hundred people. Its hull had been reinforced with runes, leaving the coastal rocks and sand unable to damage its bottom.
The Protection Runes engraved on the keel and ribs looked dull in the sunlight, but when De Leon inserted the Magic Key into the slot at the base of the helm, a low hum ran through the entire ship, as though some sleeping behemoth had just awakened.
Once the Magic Anchor holding the entire ship in place had been disengaged, Renato did not even need to lend a hand. The captain and his first and second mates could push the Hispaniola slowly off the shoal and set it afloat again.
The three men braced their shoulders against the stern bulwark, gradually pushing harder in time with their rhythmic chants. Inch by inch, the hull pulled free of the sand and returned to the deep blue sea.
Impressive as the sight was, all three were seasoned warriors of considerable strength. With the Magic Ship's functions assisting them, the feat was not particularly outrageous.
And once they had left the island and were sailing across the sea, the night's trial began.
The sea breeze was a little cooler than during the day, dispersing the lingering smell of gunpowder on deck. But the dark red blood had dried black in the gaps between the planks, leaving mottled stains no amount of washing could remove.
Several torches had been set up in the