I Only Summon Villainesses

Before I could respond to Kassie, Derry’s voice boomed across the deck.

“All hands! Preparing for approach!”

The crew moved with practiced efficiency — almost hypnotic, actually. Ropes were checked, sails adjusted, and the ship’s angle shifted almost imperceptibly as Derry guided us toward our destination.

I straightened against the railing and looked ahead.

The shapes on the horizon had resolved into something real. An island — no, a cluster of islands, scattered across the water like gems dropped carelessly from some giant’s pocket. Buildings rose from the largest of them, stacked against hillsides in layers of white and terracotta that caught the dying light. From this distance, they looked almost organic — like the stone had grown rather than been built.

And the harbor…

The harbor was chaos made beautiful.

Ships of every size and design crowded the waters. Merchant vessels flying colors I didn’t recognize jostled against sleek frigates that looked built for nothing but speed. Massive cargo haulers dwarfed everything around them, their hulls scarred and salt-stained from a hundred voyages. They competed for position near dozens of docks that jutted out from the shoreline like grasping fingers, and the sound of their bells and horns drifted across the water — a discordant symphony of commerce.

’This is Crystalis.’

The merchant archipelago.

The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of blood and gold. Light caught the water and turned it to liquid fire, waves rippling with colors that hurt to look at directly. Against that blazing backdrop, the islands looked less like land and more like something from a fever dream — beautiful and slightly unreal.

Po appeared beside me, gripping the railing with both hands and leaning out over the water with childlike wonder. His tail twitched behind him.

“There it is, Mr. Cade! Crystalis!”

His voice dropped to something approximating a whisper — though with Po, whispers still carried halfway across the deck.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Like a painting!”

“It’s something.”

“Wait until you see it up close.” He bounced on his heels, practically vibrating. “The markets! The food! The people who’ll sell you anything if you have the coin!” His eyes were bright, eager. “And nobody cares who you are or what you’ve done. It’s wonderful!”

’A place where nobody cares what you’ve done…’

I wasn’t sure if that sounded like freedom or just a different kind of danger. Probably both.

Derry’s heavy footsteps approached. He stopped beside us, his massive arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the approaching harbor with eyes that had seen this view a hundred times before. Whatever wonder the sight inspired, he’d long since worn through it.

“We’ll anchor in the outer harbor tonight,” he said. “Too late to dock proper — the harbormaster’s office closes at sunset, and I’d rather not deal with the night clerks. They charge triple and ask twice the questions.”

“So we wait until morning?”

“We wait.”

He glanced down at me, something unreadable in his expression.

“Use the time to rest, kiddo. Once we’re in Crystalis proper, things move fast. Meetings to arrange, contacts to reach. We gotta procure a new ship to secure the southern route.”

The southern route. If my memory served me right, that meant the Ashara continent.

’It’s slowly coming to an end.’

Even though it practically wasn’t — even though there was still so much left to do — this moment made it feel like it truly was. The voyage. The ocean. This Chapter, at least.

I was getting closer to something.

Home… maybe.

The ship slowed as we entered the outer harbor, joining a scattered constellation of other vessels that had arrived too late for proper docking. Lanterns were being lit across the water — on ships, on the distant docks, in the windows of buildings that climbed the hillsides like glowing eyes opening one by one.

Crystalis was waking up for the night.

And it wasn’t the only one waking.

Yuan finally stepped out of the cabin after hours of sleep, her face still swollen from rest. It was funny — despite how she looked, she still managed to appear resplendent. Rumpled and slightly ridiculous, but resplendent nonetheless. The sunset painted her features in shades of orange and red, and for a moment she looked like the goddess of slumber herself.

If such a being had ever existed.

“I feel really strange,” she said quietly as she approached me.

“Well, you did have a very full night.”

Yuan wore a gentle smile, soft and warm and slightly dazed.

“I did…”

To be honest, she looked like she was further gone than anyone could save her. That particular expression wasn’t something I could fix. Wasn’t sure I wanted to.

I glanced at the horizon and back at her.

“We’re approaching Crystalis, by the way. I suppose you’ll be dropping off soon.”

Her gaze fell immediately. The dreamy contentment flickered, replaced by something more fragile. It was almost too easy to tell where her heart was — written all over her face like she’d never learned to hide a single thing she felt.

I gave her a reassuring smile.

“You do have to go home. Take care of your business.” I paused, then added what she needed to hear. “And we have the oath too. I’m sure our fates are entangled now.”

Not that I particularly believed in the obvious lie that Mr. Reincarnator had cooked up to get between the panties of several ladies. But it was what Yuan believed, and it was the surest way to lift her mood.

And indeed, my efforts bore fruit. She looked at me with light flooding back into her eyes.

“Yes! We did it so many times! So many oaths! We will definitely meet again!”

She was so sure of it.

I felt a little sorry for her. Not that I planned to ditch her — I wasn’t that kind of bastard. But did fate really give a shit about people like us? If we did meet again, it would be because I decided to find her.

’I couldn’t forsake a member of my harem, after all.’

I smiled and patted her head, right between her ears. The fur was soft.

“Certainly, Yuan. We’ll meet again.”

Suddenly, I felt something.

It was like there was a prickle at the back of my neck. The unmistakable sensation of being watched — targeted, even. Like an invisible gun was trained on my skull.

I turned and there, from the opposite railing of the ship, Po was glaring daggers at me. His ears were flat. His tail had gone rigid. The childlike wonder from moments ago had curdled into something considerably less friendly.

’Good God. Why does he look like that?’