The harbor at Qara City's eastern port was busy at dawn.
Riyan stood at the gangway of the transport vessel, checking his equipment one final time. Shift A thoroughness meant he'd already verified everything twice, but verification was never wasted effort. The ship was a Hunter Association diplomatic transport—reinforced hull, mana-powered engines, crew experienced with long-distance continental travel.
Gray Aero was already aboard, standing at the rail with that Sword Saint stillness that made him look like part of the ship's architecture. May stood beside him, her spear strapped across her back, golden eyes scanning the harbor with the attention of someone who'd spent decades assessing threats.
