Mysteries of the Eternal Skies

Chapter 4: The Sea Does Not Love the Weak

They moved down toward the coast, where the damp sand shrank beneath their feet, and the tide whispered a ghostly song between the broken planks of the pier.

The small ship waited there—half-burned, but its frame still resisting the pull of the depths.

Adam, with his quiet presence and long silver hair draped over his shoulders, looked like a sage pulled from legend. His features were sharp, and his gray eyes carried a cold glint, like the sea's silence before a storm.

Gyro, the slender boy with short brown hair, trembled from cold and fear, but tried to hide it as he gathered firewood and tied cloth over the ship's punctured boards.

Adam watched him from the corner of his eye—a faint smile brushing his lips.

(He's learning. Fear is the best teacher, as long as you don't run from it.)

He sat near a small fire and pulled out the leather scroll.

His finger traced a single word:

"Consumption."

He stared at it for a long time.

(Just a name… but I see far greater potential.)

He clenched the scroll and tucked it into his coat.

His eyes turned to Gyro, who was huddled near the fire, his wide eyes still searching for safety.

— "Gyro."

— "Yes, sir?"

— "Get on board."

The boy glanced at the burned-out boat, his voice shaking:

— "But… it'll sink."

— "It'll float just enough."

Adam gestured with his hand:

— "There's nothing left for us here."

Gyro hesitated, then climbed aboard cautiously, pulling his knees to his chest at the bow.

Adam pushed the boat until it touched the water, then boarded with heavy steps.

His hand gripped the helm firmly, and for a moment, he watched the sea—his long hair whipping in the wind like a forgotten banner.

(This body is strong, thanks to its former owner. His combat instincts are now mine. I move with certainty—as if I've lived in this body all my life.)

He secured the torn sail with ropes taken from the dead.

The wind caught it, lifting the tattered fabric.

The ship groaned as it began to move forward.

Gyro shrank into himself.

— "Don't look back."

— "Sir?"

— "What burned won't return. The sea is ahead."

The boy swallowed hard and nodded.

Adam opened the map, his finger sliding over names written in scattered script:

"Isla de los Juz"

"The Black Island"

"Cardinal Port"

"Naval Base 27"

(All of them are chances. Gateways to power and knowledge. I'll make this fruit a weapon worthy of me—not just an empty promise.)

He tightened the final knot, then raised his gaze to the horizon.

The sea stretched endlessly, like a dark promise—or a fever dream.

(This sea does not love the weak… but it suits me.)

The wind pushed the ship into the unknown, leaving behind a burning world—while ah

ead, the future waited, as vast and dangerous as the sea itself.

✨ End of Chapter