The ghostly pirate barely had a chance to wrap his mind around what was happening, before Scar's hand lunged forwards and latched around his throat like a vice. The spirit let out a gargled whimper, despite the fact he never had to breathe ever since he died, he was suddenly overcome with a suffocating feeling as soon as that hand touched him.

The most horrifying part about it, for him at least, was that the hand was flesh and blood. Something that should have passed through him harmlessly instead of being able to touch him, never mind being able to make him feel this way.

It was a defiance of the natural laws, the new natural laws that was, that it startled not just the pirate that was being held but all of those surrounding the ragged man. All at once they halted their desperate attacks, looking on in abject horror at the hand gripping their crew-mate as he was lifted into the air by his throat.

A thin layer of azure flames flickered around the ragged mans hand, coating it all the way up to his elbow, where it fizzled out of existence. The man's eyes flashed with a hint of wonder and excitement behind the mask, as he let out a soft chuckle.

"It was so obvious... Coating weapons in spiritual energy to allow them to bridge the gap. Merge the spiritual and the physical, so they can touch one another. I'm sure I would have figured it out eventually, but thank you for helping me understand so succinctly. Now... where was I. Ah yes, Extermination."

"W-wait... Please... No!"

Scar ignored the pirates pleading, the ghosts voice becoming strained as he was choked in a way that should not have been possible. Scar cared little for how much the ghost was struggling in his grasp, or the desperate blows that were landing on his body.

From the start, they had never hurt him. He might not have had armour on his level, but these ghosts didn't even seem like they were in the transcendent level. They would have never been able to harm him no matter how hard they tried.

It was strangely cathartic, to have struggled for so long and always fought on the verge of death or insanity for so long. It was nice being the one so overwhelmingly powerful one for a change. Of course there have been a few other occasions, here and there, but nothing like this. The sheer power difference between them... It was almost intoxicating, but not enough that he would forget that there still existed being above his current level.

He wasn't going to become complacent, but still. It was a nice change of pace to indulge in his power over an army of weaklings.

Come to think of it, how weak they were was odd. Considering most of the creatures in the world were at least stepping into transcendent at the very least, it was strange to find so many that weren't even half way there.

Perhaps these were just the runts of whatever ghoulish litter spawned them. He'd figure that out later. For now, however, it was time for experimentation. Using his spiritual energy to allow him to touch spiritual beings was good and all, but he could easily do that with his threads or just by turning into his soul form.

He needed something more. So as Scar opened his mouth and began to pour oxygen into his special organ, which rapidly began to turn it into an explosively flammable gas, he decided to add some spiritual energy into the mix.

He carefully controlled the mixture, trying to find the sweet spot of cost and effectiveness. It wouldn't be very useful of an attack if it used too much energy, but it also wouldn't be useful if it didn't damage them enough.

Thankfully, his new Celestial level as well as the body it had given him meant that he had tremendous control over his soul energy. It was good before, considering it was his main source of energy alongside mana, but the difference between Celestial and Transcendent was astonishing.

The difference in finesse was like being able to split an arrow with a bow versus being able to throw a needle across the room and pin the wings of a buzzing fly, and then do it a hundred more times without missing.

All of the finesse and fine tuned control of his spiritual energy as he refined the mixture happened in less than a second, which was just enough time for his threads to form a familiar symbol in front of his open mouth.

The rune of fire burst into flames at the same moment as Scar exhaled, spewing the gas that had built up with expertise that could only be gained by training with a true dragon. Or in his case, a Wyvern.

When the gas touched the flames, their scarlet hue immediately shifted, as a roaring blaze of pure silver flames burst from Scar's mouth and engulfed the pirate in his hand. The damned soul didn't have a chance to scream before he was completely incinerated. All that was left was the sword which Scar still held by its blade, not even the hand that the pirate had held it with.

Other than that, not a single hint of his undead existence remained, so much so that there wasn't anything that his threads could absorb to nourish his existence.

He wriggled his fingers in the air, letting them relax as the spiritual fire coating the hand dimmed. He made note of the pink flesh of burns on his skin. It probably wasn't the best idea to use it on something he was holding like that.

However, it did give him some useful data. The spiritual coating definitely seemed to reduce the effects. Perhaps there was a way he could weave it into some kind of armour.

"Very destructive, testing on living targets will be required. Alas, total incineration isn't the best option, even if he was barely an appetiser. Still... There are plenty more morsels to fill me up."

His gaze snapped to ghosts who stood around him, frozen in fear, and when those eyes landed on them they felt like little more than a mouse in the eyes of a lion. They were no threat, only prey to be toyed with and devoured.

Scar flipped the sword in his hand, letting the hilt of the cutlass land in his hand palm, before swinging the sword casually. As he swung, the spiritual energy flowed from his hand and flooded the blade.

Its sickly green appearance was banished, turning it the same azure as Scar's coating, as the azure flames coated the edge of the Cutlass just like the pirate had done. The blade hummed and vibrated, cracks splintering across its body from the sheer amount of energy flooding it.

What Scar was expecting was little more than a sharper edge to cut with, but instead as he swung the sword a trail of azure flames formed in the air. The cracking blade carved through the body of the nearest ghost, yet the trail of flames carried on.

A semi-circular sword slash of flames burst forth, carving through bodies and ship just as easily as one another. It continued on beyond that, taking a downwards angle from his swing, as it cleaved into the cliff side he had stood on and left a crevice more than 3 metres in length and double that in depth.

The ghost ship creaked beneath his feet as its deck was nearly cleft in twain and pirate bodies split apart, the two halves sliding off each other and splatting against the ground with spurts of putrid black gunk instead of blood.

Scar glanced at the cutlass in his hand, ignoring the destruction it had rot, and raised an eyebrow at the cracks covering its body. It looked like a shattered vase that had been poorly glued back together before your parents noticed, ready to shatter once more at the slightest touch.

With a shrug of his shoulders he swung again, recreating the first swing and refining the technique. He used less energy, and this time aimed it upwards. It sliced bodies apart, tore heads from their ghostly necks and only managed to damage the ship by slicing cleanly through the centre mast.

As the wooden pillar creaked, felling like a chopped tree and tumbling into the fog before plummeting to the ocean below that, Scar continued his rampage.

He didn't go all out. Instead he continued to take time, playing with his food and experimenting. On many occasions he had to switch weapons, as the second swing had shattered the Cutlass completely leaving him with a bladeless hilt.

The crew themselves were helpless, no better than lambs to the slaughter. If they were lucky, they were tossed to the young ghost girl instead to keep her fighting. Yet they soon discovered that was not as fortunate as they seemed.

Instead it was little more than a cruel joke, giving them hope they could defeat an enemy and possibly even escape. Yet whenever one came close to killing her, they were stopped by threads as thin as a hair and stronger than steel, before simply being used as an instructional lesson on combat techniques.

Their fate was either humiliation at the hands of a child, or horrific death at the hands of a monster.

It was torture that went on long into the night, as Scar was thorough with his experimentation. Then, at the stroke of midnight, he blinked... and found himself standing at the entrance of the town alongside Daisy, Cynthia and Alexandra.

All around them curious townspeople gawked at them in amusement and wonder, as the midday sun hung over their heads.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.