The sky was steel gray, the waves restless.
Karim dove into the cold water, his breath steady, eyes sharp. A glint of silver flashed beneath the surface—a small Bluefin Spirit Carp. A weak spirit beast by this world's standards, but enough to teach a boy about the law of survival.
He gripped a sharpened wooden spear and moved like a shadow through the water.
> "Strike the gill, not the tail. Don't let it suffer."
His arm thrust. The spear pierced true. Blood bloomed into the water like ink.
Another one caught.
---
🐟 The Sea as a Training Ground
Karim no longer trained like other children. He didn't run, lift, or meditate anymore.
Now, he hunted.
Each day, he swam out past the reef and tracked fish-beasts—some no larger than rabbits, others as long as boats. He studied their movement, their behavior. He learned how they reacted to fear, blood, shadows.
Sometimes he caught one. Sometimes he came back with wounds. Once, a claw had raked his shoulder. His blood had mixed with the ocean, but he didn't cry.
> "I bleed now so I won't bleed when it matters."
---
🔥 Firepit Conversations
His adoptive father, a quiet fisherman named Tuo, watched Karim cook the fish over an open fire.
"You're not like the other kids," he said, sipping his soup. "You don't play. You don't smile. You act like you're already grown."
Karim didn't answer immediately.
Then: "Because the world doesn't care about children. Only power."
Tuo blinked. "…You're four."
"Five," Karim corrected.
Tuo said nothing after that.
---
📆 Counting Down
The Spirit Awakening ceremony was still a year away.
One more year to build himself.
He'd already learned the weak points of every fish-beast around the village. He made simple traps using bait and stone. He studied the temperature changes of the tides, learning when spirit beasts came close to shore.
Villagers sometimes gave him odd looks. Others started calling him "Fish Ghost", because he was always in the sea, silent, half-naked, and deadly focused.
> "Let them talk. In one year, I will awaken. And I will be ready."
---
🐾 One Day, a Mistake
That afternoon, Karim spotted a strange fin slicing through the waves near the reef. It wasn't a fish-beast he recognized.
Too fast. Too smooth. Too quiet.
He dove after it anyway—eyes narrow, grip tight on his wooden spear.
But the moment he struck, the water exploded. Something larger than him—sleek and silver—spun in the water and struck him with a powerful tail.
Pain shot through his ribs. He tumbled back, dazed, lungs screaming.
> "Too strong…!"
He barely made it to the surface. Gasping. Bleeding. But alive.
He didn't cry. He didn't speak.
Just one thought: "I was too reckless."
---
🌅 That Night
As he lay under the stars, bandaged and still, Karim whispered to himself:
> "I'm still weak. That's okay. Because every scar means I'm one step closer to strength."
And the next morning, bruised and aching—he went back into the sea.