Gunmage

The waters remained perpetually black, refusing to reflect the morning sun. It was an eerie, natural phenomenon—one the seasoned sailors had long since accepted. The Devil Sea did not welcome light.

Following the battle, Lugh's ship had been repositioned to the safest part of the formation: the center of the fleet. The officers called it recuperation, but rest was a luxury no one could afford.

The wounded were tended to, and the dead—what remained of them—were buried at sea.

Lugh got a splint on his injured wrist. Those medical supplies were really coming in handy now.

Ashes needed sweeping, charred monster corpses had to be disposed of, and the deck required scrubbing to restore a semblance of dignity to the battered warship.

Lugh wasn't exempt from the labor. If anything, the officers seemed particularly enthusiastic about working him to the bone. Stowaway or spy, it didn't matter—he had one good hand, and they would see it put to use.

This however, didn't bother Lugh as much as they might have expected. He'd been through much worse.

Suddenly, a thunderous boom echoed across the deck.

Lugh's eye twitched. Doesn't she ever get tired of this?

The culprit was easy to identify—Sergeant 'Sparky'. A woman of lean muscle and restless energy. Dressed in a tank top and some cargo pants, she was covered in fading tattoos that ran across the length of her arms.

The lady wasn't a demolitions expert, but her uncanny talent for mimicking explosions had convinced more than a few rookies otherwise. From the sharp crack of a rifle to the low rumble of TNT, she could imitate them all with unsettling accuracy.

The first time Lugh heard her, he almost dropped to the ground on instinct, expecting an incoming blast. Now, it was just annoying.

Sparky noticed his glare and grinned. She strode over, loud and confident as always.

"Oh my, if it isn't the little raccoon!"

Laughter erupted from the nearby crew. The nickname had latched onto him at some point, and the soldiers never missed an opportunity to use it. Lugh failed to see the humor in it, but as always, he kept his thoughts to himself.

"But I gotta say, kid," Sparky continued, her voice loud enough to carry across the deck,

"You are a terrible shot, absolutely dreadful. So many good bullets wasted in the last battle! Hell, I can shoot better than you while drunk. With my eyes closed! Don't you have real guns in Heieg? I'd have been ashamed to show my face after a performance like that"

Another round of chuckles.

An exaggeration

Lugh thought while remaining impassive. He didn't plan on arguing, he never did.

If anything, the fully trained soldier comparing herself to a regular teenager was the truly shameless one!

Seeing no reaction, Sparky clapped him on the back—hard. The force sent Lugh stumbling forward.

"You gotta loosen up, kid! Oh, I know—why don't you tell us a joke!"

Lugh grimaced. A joke?

The surrounding soldiers perked up, anticipation in their eyes.

"I don't know any jokes," he replied flatly.

"Cooome oooon," Sparky coaxed.

"Cooome oooon," the others joined in.

Lugh sighed. Fine.

"What do you call a military-issued T-Rex?" He let the silence stretch. "Small arms."

...

The mess hall always had a strange atmosphere after battle.

Lugh scanned the room. A soldier slumped against the wall, clutching a letter he had likely never sent. Another paced back and forth, hands trembling—fear, anger, or something in between.

Far to the right on a table, a group of 5 shared a cigarette in silence, passing it around without a word.

A steaming bowl of porridge was set in front of him.

"Eat up, kid. You look like you died twice and came back for more," a gruff voice remarked.

Lugh nodded in thanks, taking the bowl and moving to an empty table.

He had only taken a few bites before the inevitable disruption arrived.

"Yo, raccoon! We almost missed you there!"

'I would have preferred if you did'

Lugh thought to himself

Sparky, joined by a few others, slid into the seats across from him.

"Dude is as silent as a ghost" someone remarked.

Marcus was it? Lugh remembered the name because he was the first, and perhaps only, person to laugh during his earlier attempt to tell a joke.

"Who knows? Maybe he is a ghost." Another soldier nudged Sparky. "He never really answered the captain's question."

Lugh paused, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"What question?"

Sparky cleared her throat and mimicked the captain's deep voice.

"Who are you? My name is Ruhr."

"It's Lugh," the 14-year-old corrected.

"Oh, right, Lugh." She waved him off before continuing, her voice taking on an exaggerated seriousness. "What are you?"

Lugh's grip on the spoon tightened slightly. He remembered now. Back when the captain had first interrogated him, he had thought the question was stupid.

But now, drifting in the Devil's Sea, surrounded by horrors that defied reason, he understood why the captain had asked it.

He met their gazes and answered, "I'm a human."

For now, at least

---

Somewhere Below Deck

Veyland leaned against the cold steel wall, arms crossed. Shadows swallowed the corner of the room where his partner sat, half-hidden from view.

"Why is the kid still alive?" the man asked, his voice unhurried.

The captain took his time before answering. "I noticed something."

A beat of silence. Then—

"During the battle, one of those creatures completely ignored me and went straight for the kid. He was farther away, an easier target, but still…"

His partner said nothing, waiting.

"I thought it was a coincidence," Veyland admitted. "But then it happened again. And again."

His partner shifted slightly. "Yeah, I noticed that too."

Veyland exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back against the wall.

"Not all of them had the same reaction. I saved him because I needed to be sure. But even then, there was still a margin for doubt… until I got the battle reports."

He let the words settle before delivering the final blow.

"In this entire fleet, our singular ship was besieged by at least seventy percent of the sea monsters."

The silence was heavy.

"Some say we were unlucky," Veyland continued. "Others chalk it up to coincidence. But I say—"

"The kid is a monster magnet," his partner finished for him.

Veyland smirked. "And right now, we're in the middle of the fleet."