The fire roared again, this time like a serpent coiling to strike. It soared into the sky and hurtled down toward the sails.
Drake didn't flinch.
Raising his hand, he activated another layer of defense—a sigil carved into the mast ignited as he cast another spell:
"Fluctus caelestis, ignem devoret!"
From the mast, a wave of blue magic surged upward—taking the form of water—and met the fire midair.
Steam exploded from the clash, boiling and hissing as the two forces collided.
The flames, having once raged so fiercely, shattered like waves crashing against a rock, scattering harmlessly into the sea.
Cheers erupted from the crew.
But Drake remained cold and composed.
'We're blocking the attacks… but there's no way through that barrier. We need the lord here, and soon.'
The island's shield pulsed stronger than ever. The monks' voices climbed higher, their chants louder than before.
Just as the tension reached its peak, a shimmer of light split the sky.
