### Chapter Seven: Mischief (Part One)
…m*rder?
I froze for a moment, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
Just then, I heard the wind whoosh by, and with a “swish,” one of the crew members who had been chatting with me a second ago suddenly darted towards the bow, shouting at the top of his lungs. My eyes followed him, and more people were rushing towards the bow, the hoarse shouts from the dock still echoing.
“The tower! The tower! Several people are dead! Hurry before it’s too late—”
“Shut up…”
Amidst the shouting, a low reprimand cut through the noise, followed by three loud, muffled thuds—”bang, bang, bang”—like someone’s head meeting a solid object. The man’s scream abruptly ceased, but the commotion at the bow surged to a fever pitch; the crowd was furious, some aiming crossbows at the ship’s railing, while a few silhouettes leapt off the boat.
“Stop—”
“Do you really think we Eastern Continent folks are pushovers?”
“Hold your ground!”
“Sixth Knights Order! Draw your swords and prepare for battle—”
“I dare anyone to make a move!!”
Voices, footfalls, the clanking of armor, and the ringing of swords echoed in the air. A handful of crossbows were drawn, targeting the dock below, ready to fire. Travelers and merchants, eager for the spectacle, began retreating in panic. Those who reacted the quickest—fearful of getting embroiled in trouble—darted back past me, glancing over their shoulders.
…This is turning into a hassle.
I furrowed my brow, contemplating as I wove through the retreating crowd and strolled towards the bow. The chaotic shouts continued, and it was packed with people. The atmosphere was rife with tension, but I had no intention of joining the fray. I hovered by the ship’s edge, hiding behind the crew, standing on tiptoe to get a better view.
Gradually, the scene at the dock came into focus.
On the not-so-wide wooden planks, over ten knights were face-to-face with a few furious guards and sailors who were coming down from the ship, swords drawn. Two knights had already managed to subdue one individual, pressing his head to the ground. A glance was all it took for me to recognize him: he was the one previously shadowing the captain—his position unknown to me, but he was now bleeding profusely, unconscious, and motionless.
It looked like his head had been bashed with a hilt.
“Let him go!”
“Church Knights! What you’re doing is going to land you in hot water with the Merchant Association! You’re violating the holy contract—”
“Step back.”
“Release him immediately! We need to see the captain!”
“Take us to the captain! We need to ensure his safety!”
“I said back off—!!”
“Let him go first!”
“You think we’ll just walk away without seeing our captain?!”
The sailors on the ship, daring to confront the Church Knights and aiming their crossbows at these holy warriors, showed no signs of backing down. You could call their quality outstanding, each one a hardened tough guy, and perhaps that was just the brutal nature of the Eastern Continent.
Shouting aside, while they displayed defiance, they definitely wouldn’t initiate a fight—not that they would be the ones to throw the first punch. They figured the Sixth Knights Order wouldn’t truly escalate things, given the myriad rules the church had in place—some knights wouldn’t dare to cross certain lines. The sailors were used to dealing with the Sixth Knights and knew which rules could be bent and which could not.
However, this time, events seemed to spiral out of control.
The tense standoff lasted less than five seconds when a figure burst forth from the darkness of the dock like a golden flash, trailing a shower of wood splinters. In an instant, they soared over the heads of the knights, with a loud “bang,” colliding with one of the guards at the front and sending him and a few others flying.
“Uh—”
“Ugh!”
Moans of pain accompanied splashes of bright red bl**d.
“Knight… Captain…”
The arrival of the golden light was so abrupt that even the knights seemed momentarily stunned. As the knocked-over figures tumbled into the water with audible “splash” sounds, the person who appeared to be the Captain of Knights landed firmly, unsheathing his blade with a “clang,” and shouted, “Drop your weapons!!”
That command was like a hammer hitting an anvil, jolting everyone still reeling in shock awake.
“Glokar—!”
“You dare harm civilians!”
“Someone’s been killed! The knight just killed someone—”
“Jump ship! We need to run…”
With the dock atmosphere spiraling into chaos, an ominous feeling of dread washed over everyone. The onlookers remaining on the deck all scattered in a panic toward the aft of the ship; some even considered jumping overboard, desperate to avoid being caught up in this disaster. But then, they all heard the Captain of Knights bellow from the dark: “Nobody’s leaving!!”
Trapped among the crowd, I watched as the golden figure danced around with his sword, ordering the knights behind him to march forward. “I suspect among you are remnants of heretics! Sixth Knights Order, take control of this ship! Anyone caught fleeing will be dealt with! Let’s see who dares to escape—”
This shout instantly frightened many on the ship, freezing them in place. When their gazes returned to the dock, they witnessed a kn*fe-wielding guard being knocked to the ground, while those still standing clenched their fists in anger. Ultimately, they also did not dare to truly engage with the Church Knights. Under the glare of the golden light, the remains of their will crumbled, dropping their weapons and knelt. Some knights pinned individuals to the ground and restrained them, while others swiftly boarded the ship following the Captain.
Outside the dock, more knights were rushing over, responding to the commotion.
“Ah…”
I watched the unfolding scene, quietly withdrawing while sighing softly.
What a hassle…
I hadn’t intended to get involved at all.
Honestly…
Lost in thought, my feelings remained oddly subdued.
Seizing the moment of chaos, I squeezed my small frame into the shifting crowd, quickening my steps back toward the aft. The knights had their hands full ordering the deck crowd to kneel; no one noticed my presence.
Reaching the third lowered mast at the aft, I swiftly darted behind the sail, grabbing my hood with my right hand. Taking a deep breath, my eyes glimmered faintly blue beneath the hood, a frosty mist gathering and then vanishing at my feet. With a loud “bang,” the scenery blurred, and in the next instant, I was soaring nearly a hundred meters high.
Moon Step—
Bang bang bang bang bang!
The soles of my ragged shoes crunched on the frost, creating a series of explosions against the pitch-black night sky. My cloak fluttered as my petite form dashed through the night, rapidly covering several hundred meters outside the port city. In the blink of an eye, I left the commotion on the merchant ship, the “Kalivel,” far behind, heading swiftly towards the distant tower.
“…Huh?”
On the deck, the Captain of Knights, having just kicked over an angry crew member, stopped in his tracks, his sharp gaze scanning the sky. He heard those explosive sounds, but in the murky starry expanse, aside from a few scattered, dreamlike white dots, there was no sign of anyone.
—
Update Notice
I got home past 1 AM, sat in front of my computer in a daze for ten minutes. I opened the new chapter, intending to write, but then realized if I finished it, it would probably be dawn. Not to mention I have a meeting in the morning; even if I didn’t, having only slept maybe five hours last night meant I probably wouldn’t make it to the finish line. Any effort to write while pushing against fatigue would just result in something subpar.
But it seems now that I can’t even sleep.
What to do?
Lost in thought, I suddenly realized I’ve been stuck in this frustrating cycle lately: writing late at night, editing in the day, and by the next day realizing there’s no time to edit and then dragging it into another night, only to find myself too drained to write another chapter, even a half-baked one.
In the end, I released only one chapter over two days, while I felt guilty about keeping my readers waiting. So I promised a double update out of guilt, pressuring myself for the next day because I’d already made the claim—this meant no matter what, I had to finish two chapters today. But the usual result was—time slipped away, and before I knew it, it was nighttime again, and I’d not written a word.
Should I pull another all-nighter?
If I do, can I guarantee quality?
Will I have the energy to write tomorrow’s update?
Who knows…
I kind of miss the state I was in when I first started writing—back then, besides my passion for writing, my main goal was to avoid wasting my leisure time, steering clear of nightclubs and useless socializing. I just wanted to engage in something meaningful, something that would make me happy and possibly bring joy to others as well.
At that time, aside from my work during the day, I could dedicate almost all my free time to ideation and creation—many “friends” back then thought I was going through something since they could no longer reach me at night—those friends, the ones who didn’t matter, pretty much faded into oblivion.
Back then, even if I had insomnia and only slept three hours, I’d still get up feeling refreshed, ideas flowing like a fountain. My happiest moments were sitting in front of my computer, frantically tapping away at the scenes in my head, weaving them into a story to share with you all.
I have to admit I can’t seem to do that anymore.
I can’t pull all-nighters anymore.
During my free time, I start to feel fatigued, both physically and mentally.
There just isn’t as much leisure time as before.
My state has worsened over the past two months, and I’ve seen many people say, “If it’s too much, take a break; the novel can wait a bit. Just don’t go on hiatus—let us wait; your health is the priority…” Every time I read something like that, it warms my heart.
Thank you, really.
The readers of “Abyss” are predominantly gentle souls.
So I’ve also thought about just taking a good month off… or half a month, to reset myself and then return to writing.
But then I realized I couldn’t do that.
Because deep down, I know if I really put my pen down, giving myself a leisurely break, there’s a strong possibility “Abyss” will be left unfinished.
I’m not a perpetual motion machine; I’m a person—people aren’t machines; we have our lazy moments.
To me, writing—at least at the beginning—was a pastime, a passion; it was about creating something that touched others. If that feeling is put aside, once I actually ease up, I’d probably want to just stay relaxed for good.
I don’t know if I can reignite that feeling to continue finishing the story.
The longer I rest, the more uncertain I feel about it.
So I can’t do as you suggest and take a proper break—I don’t dare stop because I truly want to keep writing.
Especially recently, during these moments, my leisure time can no longer feel like it once did—wherever I want, it can be completely mine to do as I please. Now, I have to share that time with someone who will accompany me for life; my leisure time is now hers.
But I can only carve out one day a week—usually Saturday—so I typically break my writing on Saturdays. It’s the only day I can thoroughly devote to her. More often than not, even sitting down for a peaceful meal or watching a movie together is pretty difficult.
Sigh…
That silly girl doesn’t complain at all.
But recently, when I can’t sleep, I often find myself wondering who would want to find someone like me—busy every day, almost like living with air. If I were a girl, I’d definitely think that having such a man would be worse than having a dog—at least a dog would wait for me at home.
But the more I think this way, the more I tell myself I can’t stop…
I’m a greedy person.
I want to hold on to everything I like and love.
This book carries too many of my emotions.
And writing these stories has changed so much for me.
I still want to write well.
Finish the first book, then the second, and then the third… In fact, I’ve already got roughly half of the worldview, main character settings, and initial storylines for my next book plotted out. I’m quite confident it’ll be more exciting and engaging than “Abyss.” Writing “Abyss” was just passion-driven, a spur-of-the-moment idea, without such rich and intricate settings.
If I ultimately can’t finish it…
I’d feel so regretful.
And “Abyss” too.
…Feels like I’ve digressed a bit.
In any case, that’s the current state of updates… sometimes one chapter, sometimes two, occasionally even missed updates, and I don’t know when I’ll regain the relatively stable update frequency. I hope to find that balance soon.
But no matter what, there will continue to be updates—there’s no risk of abrupt, long-term hiatus. If I find a month where I have plenty of time, I still want to aim for full attendance again. To confess, since starting “Abyss,” I think I’ve only managed full attendance once or twice.
This author is truly lacking.
