The waves lapped gently against the side of the grand cruise ship Starlight Horizon as it sailed steadily toward the mainland. The sun painted golden streaks across the vast ocean, and the sky was a canvas of scattered clouds tinged with orange and pink hues.
Marcus Graveblood stood at the edge of the ship's railing, gazing out into the endless expanse. His navy-blue suit, tailored and graceful, flapped gently with the ocean breeze. He breathed in the salt-laced air and let out a soft, content sigh.
"So this is what freedom smells like," he thought, closing his eyes. "Mom… I'm finally off the island. I hope you're watching."
Earlier, the ship had buzzed with energy—laughter, music, the clinking of glasses. As a cruise ship, the Starlight Horizon was equipped with everything from banquet halls to ballrooms, and even a small arena for mock battles. Marcus had filled his stomach at the buffet with sweet bread and roasted meat before wandering into conversations with a few curious passengers.
"You from the mainland, lad?" asked a jolly merchant with a thick beard.
"Nope! Brown Island born and raised!" Marcus had answered with a smile. "This is my first time out into the world."
That sunny grin won over most people instantly.
Later, he stepped outside for some air, letting the festive noise fade behind him. That's when he heard the firm yet calm voice behind him.
"Beautiful evening, isn't it?"
Turning, Marcus found a tall man in a dark blue captain's uniform adorned with gold trim. He had slicked-back silver hair and sharp gray eyes that had clearly seen years of storms and battles.
"Sure is," Marcus said with his trademark smile. "You the captain?"
"Aye. Name's Captain Reiner Vael," the man said, offering his hand.
Marcus shook it firmly. "Marcus. Marcus Graveblood."
"Interesting surname. You heading to the mainland for business or pleasure?"
"Adventure," Marcus chuckled. "I grew up on Brown Island. Trained there. My mom just… passed away."
Captain Reiner's expression softened. "My condolences. She must have been proud of the man you've become."
Marcus nodded. "She always said I looked like a proper gentleman in this suit."
"You carry yourself like one. And that presence of yours… it's something," Reiner muttered, almost to himself.
They talked more—about life on the mainland, the rise of prana users, and the role of the United Shield Authority (USA).
"The USA," Reiner explained, "they're peacekeepers. If you're interested in exploring ruins—and I mean the real ones—you'll need a license. There's an exam for it, held in the regional branch."
"Ruins, huh… Sounds dangerous and thrilling," Marcus thought, eyes glittering with curiosity. "I wonder what kind of power and history lies within them?"
Reiner watched him closely. "He didn't flinch when I approached, even though I hid my presence. His instincts… they're razor-sharp. That kid is no ordinary traveler."
After their chat, Marcus explored more of the ship. He peeked at the mock arena, danced briefly with a little girl who wanted a partner, then returned to his room. As he lay down, arms behind his head, his gaze turned to the ceiling.
"Tomorrow's going to be a brand-new start. Mainlanders… adventures… Maybe I'll even find something about my past I never knew. Mom… I hope I do you proud."
A sudden jolt rocked the ship.
"What the—!?"
He was on his feet instantly. Another thunderous boom followed, accompanied by a deafening alarm and screams. Marcus dashed outside.
From the deck, he could see the chaos: flames in the distance, smoke billowing, and flashes of battle. The ship's guards clashed swords with a group of rugged, screaming figures.
"Pirates!?"
The guards were trying their best, but it was clear—they were being overwhelmed. The pirates were numerous, well-trained, and several even used prana-enhanced strikes.
"This is bad. If they breach the guest quarters, people will die."
Marcus didn't hesitate.
In a flash, his form blurred. One moment he stood watching—the next, he was gone, appearing in the middle of the skirmish.
SLAM!
One pirate's face met Marcus's fist before the man even saw him.
SWISH—CLANG!
A blade swung at him from behind. Without turning, Marcus ducked low, swept his leg back, and knocked the attacker off his feet. He caught the pirate's sword mid-air, spun, and flung it like a dart into another assailant's leg.
"Who the hell is that guy!?" a pirate yelled.
"I don't know—he's too fast!!"
Marcus moved like a dance—graceful, precise, devastating. He struck with such fluidity it left the pirates in awe. Even when surrounded, he didn't flinch. Instead, his sword flashed with brilliance, reflecting moonlight as he spun and weaved through attackers.
"Get him! Don't let him get closer to the main hold!" shouted one.
"You sure about that?" Marcus said, his grin unfazed.
With a downward slash, he cracked the deck slightly and sent a pirate sprawling.
From a distance, the guards watched, dumbfounded.
"Is that guy human…?"
"He just took down ten pirates alone!"
The chaos escalated as a sudden explosion ripped through the ship's cabin. Wood splinters flew, and flames burst forth.
"Captain Reiner!!" shouted a guard.
The ship's captain flew out like a ragdoll, crashing hard against the railing. Blood dripped from his mouth.
From the smoke, a hulking figure stepped out.
The man was massive, shirtless, covered in tattoos of krakens and black flames. He wore a long coat, pirate captain's hat, and carried a jagged black cutlass. His dark eyes scanned the deck with amusement.
"Well, well," he growled, "someone trashed my crew."
Marcus stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
"So he's the captain of these bastards."
The large man smirked. "Name's Davy Black. Captain of the Dark Tide Pirates. Ever heard of us?"
"Nope," Marcus said cheerfully, "but I'm about to make sure no one hears of you again."
A beat passed.
"His aura… it's sharp. This brat… He's the one who beat my men?" Davy thought. "And that sword stance... He's confident."
"You got a name, kid?" Davy asked.
"Marcus. Marcus Graveblood."
Davy raised an eyebrow. "Graveblood, eh? You got guts, I'll give you that."
Without another word, the pirate dashed forward—his cutlass trailing prana-infused shadows.
Marcus didn't move. He stood tall, feet firm, hand resting on his sheathed blade.
Just before impact, the world slowed for Marcus.
"Focus. Read the movement. See the breath. Strike like fire."
With a sharp inhale, he whispered, "Dragon Draw."
FWOOOOOSH!
In a flash, he unsheathed his sword in a sweeping Iai slash.
CLANG!!
Sparks flew as blade met blade. The force of the clash blew nearby debris away, and for a moment, neither man moved.
Then—they both jumped back, breathing heavily.
"What the hell was that!?" Davy thought. "That move… That precision. That wasn't just swordsmanship—that was art!"
Marcus twirled his blade and brought it back to his sheath.
"Wanna try again?"
Davy growled and activated more prana, covering his blade in dark energy.
But Marcus stood calm.
"I don't need to use prana to beat you."
He dashed forward with three quick slashes—first deflecting, second disarming, third cutting across Davy's leg. The pirate stumbled.
Then Marcus flipped, spun mid-air, and landed a clean strike to Davy's chest—non-lethal but powerful.
THUMP!
Davy crashed onto the deck unconscious.
The guards erupted.
"He did it!!"
"He beat the pirate captain!!"
Reiner stumbled over, wiping blood from his mouth. "Kid… you're something else."
Marcus helped him up, smiling. "No thanks needed. Happy to help."
Guests emerged and began applauding. Many thanked him, some even offered handshakes or hugs.
"Just doing my part," Marcus said, almost embarrassed.
As the ship returned to calm and the pirates were restrained, Marcus stood again at the railing, the sea wind brushing through his hair.
In the distance, the silhouette of the mainland finally came into view.
He smiled.
"A new world awaits. Let's see what you've got."