The battle had come to an end.
But it was far from over.
The island of Fire moved with a different kind of energy now—not the chaos of war, but the heavy rhythm of recovery. Broken ships were dragged to shore, their hulls torn open like wounded beasts. Blacksmiths worked without rest, hammering metal back into shape. The air smelled of smoke, salt, and iron.
And among the many names whispered across the island, one began to rise quietly.
Henry.
His actions in the battle had not gone unnoticed. What began as survival had turned into something far more significant. The way he fought, the precision in his movements—it had reached the ears of those who mattered.
Including the captain.
—
The fortress stood at the center of the island, unmoved by the destruction around it.
Henry stepped inside.
The chamber he entered was vast, yet strangely bare. At its center sat the captain of the Fire Pirates. The same imposing figure he had seen before—broad, silent, and commanding.
And yet…
Something felt different.
Henry couldn't explain it, but the presence felt… distant. Not weaker. Just… altered.
He dismissed the thought.
Beside the captain stood a man in a deep purple coat.
Dakota.
Sharp eyes. Controlled posture. The kind of man who noticed everything.
"The captain acknowledges your actions," Dakota began, his voice steady. "Few among new recruits survive such a battle. Fewer still stand out."
He stepped closer.
"You did."
A brief pause.
"As is our way, you will be rewarded. Speak your desire."
Henry didn't hesitate this time.
"Melarium."
Dakota's gaze sharpened.
He leaned toward the captain, whispering something. The captain did not respond, but after a moment, Dakota straightened.
"It shall be given."
Just like that.
The journey that had begun with uncertainty had already borne fruit.
But Dakota continued.
"There is more. You are being considered for the position of assistant commander."
The room seemed to grow quieter.
This was no small offer. It was power. Authority. A place among the core of the fleet.
Henry shook his head.
"I didn't come here for rank."
A faint shift passed through the room.
"Only for melarium."
Behind him, footsteps echoed.
"You're leaving?"
The voice was familiar.
Henry turned slightly.
The captain's son stood there, his expression tense.
"You should stay," he said, stepping forward. "You don't understand what you're walking away from."
Henry met his gaze.
"I know exactly what I came for."
Dakota's voice cut through the moment.
"If that is your decision, you are free to leave."
The captain remained silent.
The son looked toward him… waiting.
But no words came.
Slowly, he stepped back.
The meeting was over.
—
At the docks, the world felt different again.
Ships creaked against the waves. The horizon stretched endlessly, as if calling Henry back into uncertainty.
He stood there, ready to leave.
Then—
"Henry!"
He turned.
The captain's son approached quickly, slightly out of breath.
"I need to talk to you."
There was urgency in his voice.
Without waiting, he led Henry away from the docks, through narrow streets and into quieter alleys. The noise of the port faded behind them until only distant echoes remained.
They stopped.
"I need your help," Eren continued. "There's something I need to find. A plant. Rare. It doesn't grow on this island."
Henry crossed his arms.
"And why me?"
Eren hesitated.
"Because you're not tied to this place. And because… you can handle yourself."
Henry wasn't convinced.
"I can offer you something," Eren added quickly.
Henry raised an eyebrow.
"An artifact. From my father's collection."
That made him pause.
Artifacts weren't just objects—they were history. Power. Knowledge.
"…Fine," Henry said at last.
Relief flickered across Eren's face.
"Follow me."
—
They didn't return to the fortress.
Instead, they moved deeper into the less-traveled parts of the island. The buildings grew smaller, older. Eventually, they stopped before a modest structure tucked between two larger ones.
Henry frowned.
"This doesn't look like a place for someone like you."
Eren smirked slightly.
"That's the point."
He pushed the door open.
Inside, the air was warmer. Livelier.
A group of young pirates filled the room. Unlike the seasoned fighters on the docks, these were different—closer in age to Henry. Their movements were relaxed, but their eyes were sharp.
They weren't inexperienced.
They were… untested.
As the door closed behind them, the room grew quiet.
Then someone stepped forward.
A young man with striking red hair, his expression carrying effortless confidence. A faint scar ran across his cheek, and his eyes held a spark that bordered on reckless.
He stopped in front of Henry.
Looked him over.
Then smiled.
"So," he said, folding his arms, "you're the one joining us."
Henry said nothing.
But he observed.
To the side stood a tall, quiet girl with silver hair an elf, leaning against the wall, watching everything without speaking. Near her, a dwarf sat casually on a table, spinning a dagger between his fingers with practiced ease.
Each one different.
Each one capable.
"This isn't an official crew," Eren said, stepping forward. "Not yet. But it will be."
The red-haired man chuckled.
"Call it a special unit," he added. "We take jobs others avoid."
Henry glanced at Eren.
"And this plant?"
Eren's expression turned serious.
"It's not just a plant."
The room stilled.
"It's something people have stopped searching for."
A pause.
"Because most don't come back."
Silence followed.
The red-haired man's grin widened.
"Now it sounds interesting."
Henry exhaled slowly.
What was meant to be a simple journey had changed again.
Not just a detour.
Not just a mission.
Something bigger.
And for the first time since stepping onto the island—
Henry chose to stay.