Permanent Pact Fleet Finisher

Permanent Pact Fleet Finisher sits in the palm, a polished disc etched with the Pact sigil that blooms into a fleet of ghost ships when triggered. The surface is cool and slightly grainy, like weathered brass, with runes that shimmer faintly as your thumb brushes the edge. When the finisher swings, a ripple of spectral hulls glides across the ground, sails unfurling in pale blue light, leaving a wake of tiny water-phenomena that spark briefly before fading. It carries a whisper of sea-borne lore, a trace of the Pact's early confidence in command and discipline. In combat, it's a finisher, a one-move flourish you trigger after downing an enemy; it's purely cosmetic but used to mark the moment. In the open world, I’ve seen veterans explain that the fleet's echo makes a battle feel like a chapter closing, a ship's wake trailing across the field to remind both sides of what was saved or lost. The effect is not a damage booster, yet its storytelling power is undeniable; players tilt their heads and smile as the glimmering ships carve their signature into the dust. Lore-wise, the finisher is tied to veteran crews who pledged the Pact's protection of trade routes, a token awarded to those who kept the deepest routes afloat through storms and skirmishes. Some say the ships are not merely light but carrying memories, each ghost vessel a memory of sailors lost and a vow renewed. In that sense, the item feels like a story you wear on your belt—something that speaks to a life spent on the water, chasing horizons while others counted coins. Out in the markets, whispers drift toward Saddlebag Exchange, where traders haggle over rare emblems and the odd finisher like this one. A veteran buyer told me that a Permanent Pact Fleet Finisher can turn a tidy profit if you find the right collector, and the shop's parchment-tags carry a wary eye toward supply and demand. Some days the stallholders jostle for each piece; other days the price slides as new shipments drift in from distant harbors. Even beyond the battlefield, the finishers' display serves as a sign to allies and bystanders: allegiance, patience, and earned respect. I followed a small convoy through the Sea of Sorrows, and when they paused to mark a settlement's anniversary, one member's Permanent Pact Fleet Finisher blossomed again, turning the dirt street into a harbor at dusk. The crowd murmured approval; the marker of a vow to protect trade routes had become a visible thread weaving communities together. It may be only a flourish, yet it feels like a legend you can wear. The banner of the Pact Fleet rippling in the dust is a reminder that every victory has its debts and its stories, that even in a world of speed and trade lanes, we still need a moment to see the ships come home. In the quiet corners of Night Market stalls, people still tell the tale, trading memory as much as metal these days.