It took one whole month for the Harbor Guards to gather enough parts—scrounging materials from every wreckage in the giant remipede, near and far, to cobble their warship back together.

Marisol was no shipwright, though she'd worked her fair share of part-time construction jobs back in the desert town, so she spent today the same way she spent most other days in the past month: scouring the wreckages for extra casks of freshwater and live crustaceans, and tending to the bonfire so she could cook some form of stew filled with dried mushrooms and vegetables and other crustaceans and all the like. The Guards all took turns repelling the walls of water throughout the month, and sometimes she'd try to help, too, but the fact was, she was the only decent cook in the group. Terrible food meant terrible morale, so she was the resident chef, and she'd been experimenting with a hundred different ways to cook the same food over and over just to keep their palates fresh.

To that end, today was the day even the Archive ran out of new recipes for cooking crabs over a small fire. There were only so many ways you could cook a crab with limited ingredients.

Thankfully, today was the last day they'd be inside the giant remipede.

She'd already briefed the Guards on her plan to break all of them out of the remipede several weeks ago, and while many of them had responded with all sorts of 'no way' and 'are you insane', she'd gradually won all of them over the past month.

Desperation to live was a power motivator.

… How many points do I have, Archive? she thought, sitting curled up on a wooden beam as she poked the bonfire with a stick. The last rack of crab legs was still cooking, so she might as well finish it if everybody else was already sick of eating crabs. She knew she sure was, but the points would always be useful.

The Archive pulled her status screen up a second later, showing her best efforts the past month had amounted to something. If she'd given up eating crustaceans just because they made her feel a little sick, she wouldn't have so many points to work with now.

[Name: Marisol Vellamira]

[Grade: E-Rank Giant-Class]

[Class: Water Strider]

[Swarmblood Art: ???]

[Aura: 692]

[Points: 160]

[Strength: 4, Speed: 4, Toughness: 3 (+1), Dexterity: 2, Perception: 3]

[// MUTATION TREE]

[T1 Mutation | Striding Glaives Lvl. 2]

[T2 Mutations | Basic Gills Lvl. 1 | Repelling Hydrospines Lvl. 5]

[T3 Mutations | Basic Apiclaws | Basic Wings | Basic Setae] 150P

[// EQUIPPED SYMBIOSTEEL]

[Ghost Crab Scarf (Grade: F-Rank)(Tou: +1/1)(Aura: -200]

… Just enough points to unlock one tier three mutation, huh?

[Indeed,] the Archive said, appearing atop her shoulder. [I will admit, all the tier three core mutations are not particularly powerful at level one, but paired with later core mutations and branch mutations, they could prove rather useful. You are free to pick whichever one you would like to unlock first, but if you would prefer to increase your attribute levels instead, that is also a valid option.]

She paused for a moment, glancing at her status screen as she turned the rack of crab legs over. My attribute levels feel high enough for the situation I'm in, and increasing both my strength and speed would cost… a lot, right? Four times four times four is—

[Sixty-four. So you would only be able to increase both your strength and speed to level five.]

As opposed to unlocking an entirely new mutation. I'm thinking a tier three mutation would be more… useful? What do you think?

[Well, you might as well check out your options, at least. Here is the first of the tier three core mutations:]

[T3 Core Mutation: Basic Apiclaws]

[Brief Description: You will grow sharp bones that can extend out of your elbows like blades. Their current toughness is the same as your toughness level. Subsequent levels in this mutation will increase their toughness. At max level, they will be twice as tough as your toughness level]

[The first tier three core mutation is simple enough to understand,] the Archive said, crawling down to her left forearm and tapping it with a tiny leg. [The normal human forearm has two bones: the ulna and the radius. If you unlock basic apiclaws, you will grow a third bone that can whip out your elbows like a blade. Much like your glaives, the apiclaws will regenerate if they are sliced off. They are decent offensive and defensive weapons should you find yourself in a situation where you must attack or block, and your glaives are… preoccupied.]

She mulled over the mutation, imagined blades sticking out her elbows, and immediately brightened up at the thought.

That sounds cool! So they're blade-like bones coming out of my elbows? How tough are they?

[The toughness scales with the level, and there are branch mutations at level five and ten that will allow you to modify them for extra offensive and defensive power.]

Cool! Then, let's go—

[Please refrain from deciding so quickly. Here are your second and third options:]

[T3 Core Mutation: Basic Wings]

[Brief Description: You will grow short wings specialized for gliding between your shoulder blades. These wings are incapable of flying. Subsequent levels in this mutation will decrease the stamina drain from using your wings]

[T3 Core Mutation: Basic Setae]

[Brief Description: You will grow microscopic setae across your skin that will allow you to cling to and move on walls. Subsequent levels in this mutation will decrease the stamina drain from sticking on walls]

[The other two are quite self-explanatory as well: basic wings will let you glide, while basic setae will allow you to cling to walls and ceilings,] the Archive said plainly. [Please note, however, that for the Water Strider Class, there is no branch mutation for the 'Basic Wings' core mutation that will allow you to truly fly. This is because water striders experience wing dimorphism—meaning, water striders have varying wing lengths depending on the season, which greatly affect how far and how long they can fly for. Basically, water striders are terrible flyers. You can flap your wings and use them to gain bursts of speed, but in terms of mid-air mobility, you are limited to gliding only.]

Her eyes lit up, nevertheless, at the description of the other two mutations. So you're saying I can still kinda fly.

[No. You can glide.]

That's just flying with slightly less control.

[Let us see if you can still say that in the face of a storm, which will make certain you never get to glide in the direction you want—]

Oh, but the other mutation that lets me cling to walls sounds cool as well, she thought, scratching the back of her head as she hummed in indecision. I think… hm. So there's one mutation that'll let me cut crabs open easier—

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[An offensive and defensive weapon option, yes—]

One mutation that'll make my silhouette look prettier and more flowy when I'm dancing—

[An emergency escape option through the air, yes—]

And one mutation that'll let me do more impressive dance techniques, like skating up and then backflipping off a wall—

[Do you realize these mutations were designed to assist you in battle—]

But if I can only pick one core mutation to help us get out of this remipede safe and sound right now, there's only one real option, right?

She finished her thought the moment she smelled something sizzling in the air, and she immediately panicked, yanking the rack of burnt crab legs off the fire. A couple Harbor Guards laughed atop the ship they'd righted and were still patching up—she shot them all a squint as she munched on the legs, knowing she'd only be getting a few more points for her troubles. Not nearly enough to unlock another tier three mutation.

Even still, the best option was obvious, and the Archive had nothing to say in response to her decision.

Unlock the third tier three mutation for me.

I want 'Basic Setae'.

And then I'll have…

[Ten points left over.]

Upgrade my 'Basic Gills' to level two, and increase my dexterity to level three.

I'm gonna need the extra balancing power.

[T3 Core Mutation Unlocked: Basic Setae Lvl. 1]

[Brief Description: You have grown microscopic setae across your skin that will allow you to cling to and move on walls. Subsequent levels in this mutation will decrease the stamina drain from sticking on walls]

[Basic Gills Lvl. 1 → Basic Gills Lvl. 2]

[Dexterity: 2 → 3]

[Aura: 692 → 852]

[Points: 160 → 0]

She immediately felt tingly all over the moment she unlocked her new tier three mutation, as if a thousand invisible tweezers were stabbing into her skin and plucking out hairs she didn't even know she had, but… it wasn't really painful.

She could deal with pain.

[Just sit here for the time being. Give or take a minute, and you will be able to walk on walls.]

Alright.

One minute was just about long enough for them to gather one last time, too, so she was delighted to hear Captain Enrique shouting at all his men to stand around her bonfire. He had impeccable timing as always. One by one, the forty burly men finished off the last of their tasks before jumping down onto their favorite coral chunks, making sure they were within her line of sight as she wolfed down the last of her crab legs.

Captain Enrique was the last to jump down next to her, and he gestured in front of her with a proud grin on his face.

… It was something to be proud of.

A month ago, they'd all been huddled behind a half-broken ship that'd been knocked flat onto its sides, but their resourcefulness had to be commended. The giant warship's hull was a mosaic of timbers, planks, and metal plates scrapped from wreckage all around. The triple masts were repaired and lashed with thick, sinewy ropes. The old, tattered sails that bore the Harbor Guards' emblem were replaced by shiny, silvery fabrics they wove together out of giant fish scales. Thirty black cannons lined the gunports on both sides of the ship, and they'd made sure to load all of them with as many anti-chitin cannonballs as they could scrounge from the other ships before them.

They hadn't done the repairs while the ship was lying on its side, of course. The Guards had yanked the warship upright and kept it upright with dozens of ropes wrapped around coral moors. Now that it was standing tall and strong, its Deepwater Legion architecture influence was all but apparent. The ship was sleek and elongated, tapering into a sharp prow with the bowsprit jutting forward like a pointed sword.

Cool ship.

[Functional.]

Aesthetic.

[Efficient.]

Can it move underwater?

[It can most certainly survive underwater for a good minute or two.]

The whole ship was thirty meters long and twice as tall—it looked every bit a warship the likes of which Marisol had seen in picture books since she was a child, and while she'd been excited to explore the marauders' warship—that the children painstakingly repaired for her—that was nothing compared to the real deal.

She felt like breaking into a stupid grin.

If there was any ship that could possibly break through the giant remipede, it would be the warship in front of her.

"... We good to go, boss?" Enrique asked.

She shot the captain a cheery thumbs-up in response, and that was all the Guards needed to cheer up a frenzy. All forty of them rolled up their mats, picked up their wine barrels, and tossed every crate of food they'd taken out of the ship back onto the ship. They moved with vigor and efficiency like she'd never seen them do before. They were raring to go, hearts pounding in sync, because damn if all they did was sit and wait to be digested.

The Guards had a reason to return to the surface, and so did she.

Without a word, Captain Enrique offered her a hand off the wooden beam she was sitting on, and she took it—only to be immediately tossed fifteen meters up onto the warship's upper deck, his superhuman strength kicking in with a laugh.

She landed perfectly on the tip of her glaives, of course—courtesy of her higher dexterity level—so she bowed, stuck out her tongue, and shot him a thumbs-down as the Guards around her laughed. The Guards were busy with all manners of tasks: some were knotting off the corners of the sails, some were hacking off the mooring lines with their cutlasses, but everyone knew their task. She'd briefed them dozens upon dozens of times over the past month just to make sure they knew exactly what they were going to be doing.

However anxious they still felt about her plan, though, her role wasn't down here on the upper dock. It was up on the very top of the warship's largest mast.

[For the record, I do think this is the most reckless and dangerous plan you have concocted by far.]

Thank you.

The Archive looked at her weirdly.

[... Exhilaration masochist.]

She squinted back at the Archive pointedly.

Coward.

[Realist.]

What's the percentage?

[A hundred percent chance of either life or death.]

You're useless as always.

While Captain Enrique jumped up himself and manned the steering wheel, shouting at his men to hasten their preparations, she began climbing the ratlines. The ropes swayed and wobbled as she tried not to cut them with her glaives, and it was a bit scary, but eventually she reached the crow's nest at the very top of the front sail—overlooking the rest of the remipede's stomach from far, far above ground.

The ship was pointed towards the giant remipede's teeth, and the last wall of water hit around twenty minutes ago.

So, with ten minutes left to spare, she sat down on the crow's nest and let her glaives kick back and forth over the edge as she took out her mama's book again.

She'd already read every single chapter in the book—and she'd read them a few dozen more times the past month—but considering the third technique was what she was hinging on to help her deal with the barnacles on their way out, she felt like reading the third chapter again.

"... To El Borde Vellamira, Marisol, my only little runaway."

"Captain Antonio was wrong. He'd assured me over and over, saying the round trip would take just half a year at most, but if you're reading this third chapter, you must be more than a few months away from home. Something's happened to you, right?"

"I'm sure the future me who gave you this book told you it would be a trip longer than 'just' half a year, and I'm also sure the future you told me it wouldn't take longer than 'a few months', so I'll say this here and now: I told you so."

"I'm always right, you little rascal. Don't you ever forget that."

Marisol snorted immediately upon re-reading the letter on the first page of the third chapter, and she felt a little teary-eyed as she flipped to the next page.

Has it really been three months since I left home?

[You spent a week riding from the desert to the Harbor City, then three days on Antonio's ship, then thirty-three days on the horseshoe crab island, then twenty days on the marauders' warship, then thirty days in here.]

[It has been almost exactly three months since you left your home.]

She smiled slightly. A lot had gone wrong, and she was sure her mama wouldn't believe her if she said she was swallowed by a giant bug.

"I reckon, if you're reading this, that you're either still on Antonio's ship or stuck in transit inside the Whirlpool City."

"I don't know if the city's still brimming with crowds and performers on the streets, but if you've been away from home for more than several months already, I also reckon you're running out of Scales. After all, you only saved up just enough to afford a round trip and a vial of healing seawater. Maybe you've been begging or working menial jobs for Scales in the Whirlpool City just to pay for food, but I just can't stand the thought of a Vellamira sleeping out on those cold, damp streets."

"So here's a technique for you to woo a bigger crowd than any other street performer in the city—but use it sparingly, alright?"

"It can hurt your crowd if you're not careful, and you don't want to be on the bad side of the Imperators."

She chuckled softly again as she flipped to the next page, and from there on until the chapter four lock, it was all diagrams and drawings of the technique she'd already practiced many, many times this month. She'd seen her mama perform this technique a few times when she was a lot younger. Compared to the power needed for the War Jump and the dexterity needed for the Silent Step, it wasn't particularly difficult for her to figure out how to adapt this third sand-dancing technique for use on water.

If anything, she was excited feeling the ground rumble, because she'd spent the past month honing this technique of hers.

The bioluminescent lights dimmed as the fleshy walls undulated one last time. Four hundred meters in front of her, the giant remipede opened its mouth to swallow a gargantuan wall of water, and Captain Enrique roared for his men to get into position beneath her.

… Archive?

[Yes?]

Update that objective, won't you?

The wall of water charged in, making the remipede rumble as it neared the stern of the warship.

Marisol dragged a glaive back, a small, nervous grin coming onto her face.

It'll be a messy kill.

[Objective #8: Escape from the giant remipede before you get digested]

[Objective #8: Slay the C-Rank Giant-Class Remipede]

[Time Limit: 10 minutes]

[Reward: 3,000 points, 2x Remipede Olfactory Nerve Centers]

[Failure: Glorious death]

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