Eclipse of the immortal

Keon, still dripping wet and barely recovering from his near-death experience, blinked at the crew in front of him.

"Pardon, good sir… could you repeat that?"

The response?

More gibberish.

"Togar mi'zak! Vuro'da leno?"

Keon sighed. "Yup. Thought so."

The men standing before him were a strange sight—their naval coats and cleanly pressed uniforms looked eerily similar to 18th-century British navy soldiers, yet they had an air of small kingdom knights.

The most interesting part?

Their hats.

They were shaped like pirate hats, yet they weren't rugged or tattered—instead, they looked high-quality, decorated with gold linings and rare gemstones.

"Wait… navy soldiers? Pirates? Which one is it?" Keon wondered.

Before he could question further, the crowd suddenly shifted.

The sailors moved aside, making way for someone.

A man stepped forward—his dark blue coat swayed slightly in the wind.

There was no doubt—this guy was important.

Maybe even… the captain.

But what caught Keon's attention wasn't his presence—

It was the energy radiating from him.

That same feeling—

The same mystic energy Keon had sensed from his cloak.

It wasn't just there.

It was asking for something.

And before Keon could react—

The system panel appeared.

---

[Mana Communication Invitation]

Captain ??? is requesting Mana Communication.

Requirement: Mystic Affinity 2

Your Current Mystic Affinity: 4

[Accept] | [Reject]

---

Keon frowned.

"Mana Communication?"

There was a moment of hesitation.

It felt weird.

It wasn't just words—it felt like something deeply personal was about to happen.

But…

What choice did he have?

With slight concern, Keon accepted.

The moment he did—

Something clicked in his mind.

It was like a floodgate had opened.

New words. New meanings. New knowledge.

All of it transferred into his brain in an instant.

But it wasn't like learning a new language.

It was different.

It felt like…

Online chat messages.

Instant. Direct. No need for translation.

Keon barely had time to process before—

A wave of intent formed in the air.

Not words.

Not speech.

Just pure mana shaping itself into meaning.

And Keon understood it instantly.

"Who are you?"

"Where do you belong?"

"How did you get here?"

The questions bombarded his mind.

Keon had to choose his words carefully.

He couldn't just blurt out, "Oh yeah, I Rift-Leaped into the ocean because my system is a troll."

That would be a terrible idea.

So, he played it safe.

With a slight bow, he introduced himself.

"My name is Keon. I'm from the western region. My crew was attacked by a sea monster. I was the only survivor."

It was vague, but plausible.

Unfortunately—

It wasn't enough.

The captain's mana pulsed again.

The next wave of questions hit harder.

"Which country are you from?"

"Why were you in this region?"

"Why don't your clothes match any navy or faction we know?"

Keon barely stopped himself from clicking his tongue.

"Damn it. This guy's sharp."

He tried his best to give believable answers.

But the captain's eyes never wavered.

Then—

The decision was made.

"You're lying."

Keon's heart dropped.

Before he could react—

Two armed sailors grabbed him from both sides.

"Wait, hold on—!"

But it was too late.

The next thing he knew—

Keon was thrown behind bars.

Inside the ship's brig.

Keon let out a deep sigh as he sat on the cold wooden floor of the cell, resting his back against the iron bars.

"Of all the places I could've ended up... it had to be a prison on a ship."

The scent of saltwater and damp wood filled the air, mixed with the distant sound of crashing waves. Outside the cell, the ship creaked as it sailed, its rhythm almost calming—if not for the unfortunate company around him.

The Other Prisoners

Keon wasn't alone.

Four other men were locked up with him. They looked rough, worn-out, and were clearly criminals.

Across from them, in a separate cell, were a few women.

One woman stood out—a mature lady, her alluring figure clad in well-worn yet stylish pirate gear.

Another had fiery red hair, and from the way the others gave her space, she was probably their leader.

The women were talking among themselves, but—

Keon couldn't understand a word.

"Great, back to the gibberish again."

He was too tired to care. At this point, he just wanted to close his eyes and rest for a bit—

But that peace didn't last long.

A large shadow loomed over him.

The Challenge

A heavy hand landed on Keon's shoulder.

He looked up.

A bulky man, muscles tense, smirk wide and confident, was staring him down.

The man said something in his strange language, his tone mocking.

Keon didn't need to understand the words.

"Oh, great. Let me guess—this guy thinks he's the boss of this cell?"

Annoyed, Keon shoved the man's hand away and muttered a few choice curses in his own language, knowing full well the guy wouldn't understand.

But that only seemed to irritate him further.

The man cracked his knuckles, his smirk widening.

A challenge.

Keon sighed.

"I really don't have time for this..."

The man threw a punch—

Faster than Keon expected.

But—

It passed straight through Keon's face.

The man stumbled forward, eyes wide in shock.

The Fight Begins

Keon took a step back, realization hitting him.

"Wait… why could he touch me earlier, but now his attack went through?"

It took only a second to figure it out.

"I can only phase through attacks when I'm being attacked directly…"

The discovery sent a mischievous grin creeping across his face.

And just like that—

The rest of the prisoners jumped in.

The fight escalated.

One man lunged—Keon sidestepped easily, causing the guy to slam into the iron bars.

Another swung a kick—Keon ducked just in time, making the attacker stumble over his own weight.

The first man recovered quickly and charged at him again—this time feinting a punch before twisting into a knee strike.

Keon saw through it.

Instead of dodging, he leaned in, letting the attack phase through him.

The man's knee met nothing but air.

That completely threw him off.

Keon took advantage, spinning behind him and giving a firm shove—not too hard, but enough to send the guy crashing into his own allies.

The others hesitated.

Their expressions turned from confidence to confusion.

One of them muttered something, eyeing Keon warily.

He could almost guess what they were thinking.

"Is this guy using some kind of ability?"

Keon smirked.

"Nope. Just a little system magic."

With their hesitation, Keon took the chance to step back and raise his hands.

A universal sign of "I'm done."

The prisoners, still wary, muttered among themselves before backing off.

The red-haired woman from the other cell chuckled, amused by the whole situation.

The fight was over.

Keon let out a breath and sat back down.

"Well… at least now they won't mess with me."

The ship continued sailing forward into the unknown—

With one new, unpredictable prisoner aboard.