The harbor pulsed with life.

  Shouts echoed across the docks as cranes creaked, ropes snapped taut, and sailors hurried between ships. Dozens of vessels worked in unison—some disgorging cargo from distant lands, others swallowing goods destined for foreign shores. Spices, silk, metal crates, exotic beasts—wealth from across the world flowed through the port like a living tide.

  For the first time, Rose truly understood the scale of it all.

  This wasn’t just travel.

  This was the world in motion.

  She watched silently as the caravan workers unloaded their supplies, guiding pack animals up the ramps and into the ship’s hold. Crates vanished into the darkness below deck, each one carrying promises of profit—and danger.

  Then she felt it.

  Sai’s mana—steady, familiar.

  And another presence beside it.

  Before she could speak, Mardukir answered, his voice calm and knowing.

  “Sai and Kaveh are inspecting the ship,” he said. “Making sure nothing aboard can threaten the vessel—or us.”

  Rose glanced at him.

  “Threaten us how?” she asked. “You think the captain or his crew might betray us?”

  Mardukir snorted softly.

  “No. They’re well aware we’d cut them down long before that thought became action.”

  His gaze shifted toward the open sea.

  “And this port is safe enough,” he continued. “But once we reach the Eastern Continent… that changes.”

  Rose frowned.

  “Changes how?”

  “A curse etched into a beam. A tracking stone hidden among the cargo. Or something worse—something meant to destroy the ship along with everything aboard.”

  Rose stared at him.

  “All that… just to ruin a shipment?”

  Mardukir’s lips curved into a thin, humorless smile.

  “In this continent, wars are fought with soldiers and banners,” he said.

  “In the Eastern Continent, they’re fought with gold… and knives in the dark.”

  He went on evenly, as though explaining something obvious.

  “There’s always someone who benefits.

  A rival’s cargo lost. A trade route weakened. A message sent. A debt paid in blood.

  Sometimes the reason is small. Sometimes it’s political. Sometimes… it’s personal.”

  His eyes met hers.

  “But there is always a reason.”

  Rose absorbed his words in silence, her gaze drifting back to the ship. The final workers were boarding now. The ropes were being prepared. The ship felt less like transport—and more like a threshold.

  Mardukir placed a steady hand between her shoulders.

  “It’s time,” he said. “Let’s move.”

  Rose tightened her grip on her spear.

  The wood beneath her boots felt solid as she stepped forward, toward the gangplank, toward the unknown. The wind carried the scent of distant horizons, stirring something fierce inside her chest.

  This wasn’t just another mission.

  This was departure.

  This was commitment.

  And as Rose set foot on the ship, her heart thundered with certainty—

  The adventure had truly begun.

  Several hours had passed since the ship departed the Port of Rethaz.

  Rose leaned against the ship’s railing, her eyes following the steady flow of the river below. Ships moved in disciplined lanes—each section of the river clearly assigned, one for entry, the other for departure. The traffic was constant, yet orderly.

  She glanced toward one of the watchtowers rising along the riverbank and spoke to Sai, who stood beside her.

  “We’ve passed so many towers already,” she said. “Do they really need all of them?”

  “Yes,” Sai replied. “They’re essential for managing river traffic. Just look at how many ships are moving through here. If something goes wrong, messages can be sent quickly from tower to tower—and traffic can be redirected before navigation is disrupted. It’s actually a very clever system.”

  Mardukir, standing nearby and chewing on a strip of smoked meat, nodded thoughtfully.

  “Whoever designed it knew what they were doing.”

  Sai shrugged slightly.

  “I don’t know who came up with it, but Lord Casper’s council is said to be filled with sharp minds.”

  Mardukir looked toward the riverbanks.

  “I’ve heard many things about Lord Casper.”

  Rose turned to him in surprise.

  “Really?”

  He smiled.

  “Yes. In less than fifty years, Rethaz has become one of the main hubs for caravans traveling to and from the Eastern Continent. Stories of his soldiers and his wars have reached far beyond these lands—passed along by traders and caravans.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Rose glanced at Sai.

  “I didn’t realize Lord Casper was that important.”

  Sai snorted softly.

  “You idiot. How did you miss that when you grew up here?”

  Rose bristled.

  “How was I supposed to notice? I spent my childhood getting my backside kicked daily by his soldiers and knights in the training yards.”

  A brief silence followed—just long enough to draw the attention of both Sai and Mardukir.

  Then Rose frowned.

  “…What’s that smell?”

  Mardukir smiled.

  “That, girl, is the scent of the sea.”

  Rose’s eyes widened as she looked around.

  “The sea? Where? I don’t see it.”

  Mardukir pointed upward.

  “Climb the mast. You’ll see.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Rose took off. She scrambled up the ropes, leaping and climbing with such speed that several sailors paused mid-task, staring in surprise as she passed them. She climbed higher and higher until she reached the top.

  And then—

  She froze.

  Before her stretched an endless expanse of blue.

  Water as far as the eye could see, merging with the sky itself. No banks. No edges. No end. The ship below felt impossibly small, as if it were drifting through the heavens rather than sailing across water.

  She had heard her father describe it countless times.

  But seeing it—

  This was something else entirely.

  “So this…” Rose whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind,

  “…this is the sea.”

  A soft smile touched her lips.

  “It’s… beautiful.”

  A few quiet minutes passed as Rose stared into the horizon, her expression calm—almost reverent.

  Sai eventually climbed up beside her.

  “You look like you’re enjoying the view,” he said.

  Rose didn’t turn to him.

  “It’s more beautiful than I imagined.”

  Sai smiled faintly and sat down next to her, following her gaze toward the endless blue.

  “That’s good,” he said. “Because if the winds and weather favor us, we’ll be sailing for nearly ten days before we reach the port of Veyrasha.”

  Rose remained silent, still watching the distant line where sky and water met.

  Sai joined her in that silence.

  He had read about the sea countless times in books—descriptions of endless waters, shifting tides, and distant horizons—but seeing it with his own eyes was something else entirely.

  The words on the page had never done it justice.

  Near the center deck, Karandash stood beside Sharruk, both of them watching Rose and Sai from a distance.

  “I haven’t had the chance to speak about them properly,” Karandash said at last. “So tell me—honestly. What do you think of our adventurers?”

  Sharruk kept his eyes on the pair as he answered.

  “They’re very young. That worried me at first. And to be frank… I still don’t know whether their rank should impress me—or make me uneasy.”

  He paused, then added quietly,

  “Especially the girl. She’s far stronger than she looks. And Kaveh tells me the boy’s mana reserves surpass his own.”

  Karandash turned sharply.

  “Stronger than Kaveh? That’s hard to believe.”

  Sharruk shook his head.

  “I didn’t say stronger. I said his mana pool is vast—far larger than Kaveh’s. Raw power alone doesn’t decide a battle… but it’s still remarkable.”

  He folded his arms.

  “I believe we’ve hired exceptionally capable adventurers. And just as importantly—their temperaments are easy to deal with. That matters more than most people realize.”

  Karandash’s gaze drifted back to Rose.

  “Temperament aside,” he said slowly, “in all my years, I’ve never seen a girl quite like her. Especially those eyes.”

  He smirked.

  “Have you ever seen anything like them, Sharruk?”

  Sharruk exhaled.

  “No. And you’re right—she’s beautiful. Even by elven standards.”

  Then, more seriously:

  “I just hope she doesn’t bring us trouble.”

  Karandash laughed.

  “Oh, she will,” he said with a knowing grin. “But trouble can be… profitable, if handled correctly.”

  Sharruk shot him a warning look.

  “Try not to get us all killed with your schemes.”

  Karandash laughed even harder.

  “Relax, my friend. Look at me—I’m still alive. And not just alive… wealthy.”

  He clapped Sharruk lightly on the shoulder.

  “Which brings me to a small request.”

  Sharruk narrowed his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “Arrange a sparring match,” Karandash said casually. “Between that girl and Mardukir. I want to see her in action.”

  Sharruk frowned.

  “Is that really necessary? I’ve told you she’s strong. The Adventurers’ Guild doesn’t hand out ranks lightly.”

  Karandash shrugged.

  “I trust you. But I’m a merchant.”

  His smile sharpened.

  “And a merchant doesn’t buy fish while it’s still in the sea.”

  Sharruk sighed.

  “…Very well.”

  He turned and began walking toward Mardukir, shaking his head slightly.

  “I swear,” he muttered under his breath, “one day I’ll understand what kind of trouble you’re always trying to drag us into, Karandash.”

  While Rose and Sai were sitting atop the mast, a familiar voice called out from below.

  “Rose! Rose! Can you hear me?”

  With effortless grace, Rose flipped upside down from the mast, hanging by one leg as she looked down at Mardukir, annoyance clear on her face.

  “What do you want?” she called.

  “Come down here,” Mardukir said. “I want to test my shield .”

  Rose tilted her head.

  “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

  Mardukir raised his voice.

  “You wouldn’t happen to want to fight me, would you?”

  A grin spread across Rose’s face.

  “…Alright. I’m coming.”

  In a series of fluid movements, Rose leapt from mast to mast, descending toward the deck. Sailors and caravan workers stared in disbelief as she moved with fearless precision, landing lightly in front of Mardukir.

  She pulled her spear from her storage stone and rested it against her shoulder.

  “Alright,” she said brightly. “Show me your best.”

  Mardukir laughed.

  “We won’t be using real weapons.”

  He tossed a thick wooden staff toward her.

  “Use this.”

  Rose frowned.

  “Why?”

  “First,” he said calmly, “this isn’t a training ground—it’s a ship. Second, we’re not risking damage to the vessel.”

  She sighed in irritation.

  “Fine.”

  Sai landed beside her just then, catching her spear mid-air.

  “He’s right,” he said simply.

  Mardukir walked toward the center of the deck, fastening his sword securely into its scabbard. The sailors and workers quickly cleared the area, forming a wide circle. Even Karandash, Sharruk, and the ship’s captain turned their attention toward the scene. Nearby, Zamirah and Kaveh appeared to be placing quiet bets.

  Rose stepped forward, wooden staff in hand.

  “Ready?” Mardukir asked.

  She smiled.

  “Always.”

  Mardukir advanced steadily, shield raised.

  In the next instant, Rose exploded forward.

  Most of the onlookers barely registered her movement as she closed the distance, using the reach of her weapon to unleash a rapid series of strikes. Mardukir deflected each blow with practiced ease, but the length of Rose’s staff prevented him from counterattacking immediately.

  Instead, he advanced slowly—step by step—absorbing each strike, forcing her backward.

  She knows exactly what she’s doing, Mardukir realized.

  Rose maintained her distance carefully, her attacks relentless, controlled, probing—searching for an opening.

  Then she saw it.

  A brief gap on Mardukir’s left side—where the shield didn’t fully cover.

  Rose thrust.

  Mardukir twisted aside just in time, using the opening to close the distance. Now within sword range, he went on the offensive.

  His strikes came fast—not just with the sword, but with the shield as well—pressuring Rose, denying her space.

  She tried to retreat.

  He didn’t allow it.

  He’s good, Rose thought grimly.

  Then, in a split second, she channeled mana into the wooden staff.

  Even crude wood could hold a small amount—if handled carefully.

  When the staff struck Mardukir’s shield, the mana detonated.

  A shockwave burst outward.

  Gasps rippled through the deck.

  But instead of shattering the shield—

  The energy was absorbed.

  Then reflected.

  The staff exploded in Rose’s hands.

  Before anyone could react, Mardukir struck.

  Rose’s body moved on instinct.

  She slipped into Sir Rainer’s technique—deflecting the sword with the back of her hand, twisting aside, and springing backward in one smooth motion.

  Rose landed safely, already drawing a dagger.

  The deck fell silent.

  “Enough!” Sharruk’s voice rang out. “The match is over.”

  Mardukir removed his helmet, staring at Rose with genuine admiration.

  “You’re good,” he said. “Who trained you?”

  She sheathed her dagger.

  “A great teacher.”

  Then she glanced at his shield.

  “…And what is that shield ? Did it absorb my mana?”

  Mardukir laughed.

  “Yes.”

  Rose crossed her arms.

  “That’s cheating.”

  He shrugged.

  “Sorry. I needed to test it.”

  She stepped closer, eyes shining as she examined the shield.

  “That’s incredible. Could something like that be made for wrist armor too? I can think of so many situations where that would be useful.”

  “I don’t know,” Mardukir admitted. “You should ask Kaveh.”

  Sai approached them, nodding.

  “It’s a good idea. I’ll see what’s possible.”

  Rose beamed.

  “Perfect.”

  She turned back to Mardukir.

  “You’re really good,” she said honestly. “Can we fight again sometime?”

  Mardukir smiled.

  “Anytime.”

  Above them, on the command deck, Karandash watched with open satisfaction.

  “She’s strong,” he said. “Very strong.”

  His smile sharpened.

  “If we play our cards right… there’s a great profit to be made here.”

  Narishta shot him a warning look.

  “Master Karandash,” she said firmly, “please don’t do anything reckless.”

  Karandash chuckled softly.

  “My dear Narishta… without risk, there is no reward.”