The Royal Audience Hall.
"Allen, my child." The King's voice carried an exhausted majesty as he tried to persuade a child who had gone astray. "Do you realize what you are saying? You want to abandon your noble bloodline to chase an illusory legend? Those Wizards... perhaps they exist, but we cannot comprehend them, nor should we touch them!
"Just be a Prince in peace. The entirety of Black Reef City will be your fiefdom in the future. Why must you..."
"Father," Allen interrupted him calmly. His voice wasn't loud, yet it echoed throughout the grand hall. "What I want is not a fiefdom, but truth itself."
"Truth?" His older brother Kane sneered. His robust physique looked highly intimidating even beneath his formal attire.
"Allen, put away those childish words from your books. You couldn't even pass the physical trial for a Knight's knighting ceremony, and now you delusionally speak of a path ten thousand times harder?
"I will only remind you of one thing," Kane said, taking a step forward with a raised voice. "If you leave, the inheritance rights to Black Reef City under your name will be redistributed immediately. Those 'new mills' and 'improved farm tools' you worked so hard on will instantly belong to someone else. Are you sure you want to abandon these tangible benefits for an illusory legend? Don't be naive!"
"Kane is right," an older sister added in a seemingly gentle tone. "Allen, stop making a scene. What is that ship for? It's a place where desperate paupers sell their sons and daughters for money! You are a Prince—if you mix with them, where does that leave the royal family's dignity?"
He wondered if they thought it was an illusion. Truly, one could not explain ice to a summer insect. What was the point of explaining the vast cosmos to people who couldn't look past their own backyards? It was a pure waste of time. Allen could not even be bothered to feel angry.
Under the shocked gazes of the King and the crowd, he did not offer a single word of explanation. He simply took off his royal crest and signet ring—the symbols of his status—and placed them gently on the cold floor.
"From today onward, there is no longer a Seventh Prince Allen Wesren in the Rhine Kingdom, only a commoner pursuing the truth."
In the days that followed, he ignored all the admonishments and ridicule, preparing in silence. He sold all the property under his name that could be exchanged for coin. In truth, the wealth a former Prince could mobilize was not much.
When he piled a heap of Golden Crows, Silver Sepuls, and jewelry in front of the mysterious merchant, only to receive an inconspicuous leather pouch in return, his old attendant beside him gasped in heartache. Allen opened the pouch to reveal fifteen murky crystals, each the size of a thumbnail, emitting a faint warmth to the touch.
"Only fifteen Magic Stones?" the attendant couldn't help but exclaim softly. "Your Highness, all those treasures of yours..."
"It's worth it," Allen interrupted, tucking the small pouch into his inner pocket.
On the day of boarding, the sky was overcast and gray.
The port was crowded with commoners watching the spectacle. Waiting in the designated area with Allen were several hundred teenagers. Most of them were in rags, sallow and emaciated, their eyes mixing fear with a trace of desperate hope. When they saw Allen, they subconsciously stepped away. This boy, who was dressed plainly but still immaculately clean, possessed an aura so incompatible with theirs that it made them feel awed and distant.
"Look, that's the Seventh Prince..."
"Has he gone mad? Refusing to be a proper Prince and competing with us for a living?"
"We were only sent here because our families have no money. Does the King lack money too?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down. What the hell do you know about the affairs of noble lords?"
Their whispers drifted over on the wind. Allen turned a deaf ear to them. His gaze passed over the crowd and landed high up in the direction of the palace. There, he could faintly make out several familiar figures staring down coldly. They were watching the final performance of a "royal disgrace," a "foolish quitter."
He did a final check of his belongings: a change of clothes, a few pieces of jerky, a small waterskin, and the leather pouch containing the fifteen Low-tier Magic Stones safely tucked against his chest. He looked as shabby as a refugee.
The sea breeze at the port carried a salty, fishy stench, unable to disperse the crowd's commotion and unease. Allen pulled his coarse linen cloak tighter around himself and stood at the edge of the crowd, staring intently at the distant horizon. Advisor Merlin had only said that the "ship" would come, but no one told him it would be a "ship" like this.
At first, it was merely a black dot tearing through the clouds, rather than appearing on the surface of the sea. It descended soundlessly, its silhouette expanding rapidly in the morning light, bringing with it a sense of oppression that defied all common sense. It was a cold, inhuman feat of engineering!
It ultimately hovered ten meters above the port, casting a shadow that swallowed half the dock. The hull was constructed from a dark, light-absorbing metal. Devoid of any visible rivets or weld seams, it was so smooth that it appeared to be molded in one piece. Shaped like a triangular arrowhead magnified ten million times, it carried an ominous aura that mercilessly shattered the materialistic worldview of his past life.
It had no sails, no oars, no smokestacks, not even a single window. There was only a terrifyingly smooth surface, along with the faint, ghostly blue light that occasionally rippled across its underside, briefly illuminating geometric patterns so intricate they made one dizzy.
"A miracle... This is a miracle!" An old man next to him knelt down trembling, instantly causing a large swath of people around him to follow suit.
But Allen did not kneel. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, not out of awe, but from the thrill and tremor of having his perception entirely overturned.
He thought, "This thing couldn't possibly be cobbled together in the Middle Ages, and even Earth would struggle to build it... Isn't this just a damn spaceship?"
"DSeek, analyze the target!" he roared in his mind.
[Warning: Target structure exceeds database's cognitive scope. Internal structure cannot be detected.]
[Hypothesis: Unnatural construct. Material: Unknown. Propulsion system: Unknown. Anti-Gravity principles: Unknown.]
The string of "Unknowns" made Allen's scalp tingle. This ship was the loudest slap to the face of his past knowledge. It hovered quietly, like a Starry Beast resting beneath the mortal Sky Vault, coldly scrutinizing the tiny lives below.
This was the world he truly wanted to pursue after burning his blueprints! That magical, magnificent world was revealing a mere fraction of itself to him in an incredibly shocking manner.
A cold metal gangway slid silently from the ship's underbelly. CLANG. The foot of the stairs struck the stone slabs of the dock. The sound wasn't loud, yet it brought all the commotion to a momentary halt.
An icy voice rang out, "Board the ship."
What followed was even more intense chaos. The hundreds of teenagers broke into a frenzy, shoving each other with faces full of panic and hesitation. Yet, as if driven by some invisible force, they began to climb up. Watching this chaotic scene, Allen also stepped forward. Without looking back, he walked toward the gangway.
Just before he could step onto the stairs, a sharp voice pierced through the din of the port.
"Allen! It's not too late to turn back! Stop dreaming that damn pipe dream!"
It was his brother Kane shouting from the distant high balcony of the palace, delivering his final, condescending "advice."
Allen didn't pause his steps, nor did he even glance back. He simply raised his hand and waved it carelessly behind him. Then, he stepped onto the cold, matte gangway.
Feeling the distinct touch of metal beneath his feet, he completely cast aside all the mockery, incomprehension, and mortal bonds. The gangway was wide enough for four or five people to walk side by side. He walked on the very edge, keeping a distance from his ragged peers. They reeked of sweat, grime, and poverty, whereas Allen carried only the scent of clean linen and the sea breeze.
This incongruity made him look like a solitary island. He didn't walk fast, but his steps were exceptionally steady.
A freckled girl stumbled, nearly falling off the edge of the gangway. Allen instinctively reached out and caught her. The girl looked at him in terror, her lips trembling so much that she couldn't even utter a thank you. She immediately ducked her head and scrambled upward on all fours, leaving him behind as if terrified of being associated with him.
Allen retracted his hand, expressionless.
The end of the gangway led to a massive circular opening, inside which lay fathomless, pitch-black darkness. There was no one to welcome them, no guards; there was only a silent, all-devouring entrance. When the last person boarded the ship, the gangway began to silently retract. The dock rapidly shrank beneath their feet, and the clamor of the crowd quickly faded away.
Allen took one last look at the royal city where he had lived for over a decade. In the gray morning light, it appeared tiny and distant. He bid it a silent farewell in his mind.
The gangway merged with the hull seamlessly, letting out a low CLICK.
In his mind, DSeek's prompt quietly surfaced:
[New journey recording initiated. Objective: Analyze the real world.]
Allen responded in his mind with unprecedented clarity and resolve, "That's right. Analyze... and control."