Chapter 286: Chapter 286: Beneath the Open Sea
Five days had passed since Trafalgar last lost himself to sleep.
Now, he stood on the outer deck of the flying vessel, bare-chested despite the cold wind cutting across the open sky. His eyes were closed, breathing slow and controlled, mana flowing evenly through his core. Each inhale pulled energy inward. Each exhale refined it.
Below him, nothing but endless blue.
The Morgain territories were far behind them now. No mountains. No snow-covered land. Just the vast, unmoving ocean stretching to the horizon.
Trafalgar opened his eyes.
’It’s quieter out here,’ he thought.
Footsteps approached from behind, heavy and unhurried.
"We’ll have to land."
Trafalgar turned his head slightly. Alfred stood near the railing, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the sea ahead.
"The engines need to rest for a few hours," Alfred continued. "We’ll keep moving, just not flying."
Trafalgar frowned.
"...Land?" He glanced down at the ocean again. "On the water?"
Alfred shot him a look.
"Yes. On the water."
Trafalgar hesitated, then asked the question that had ford in his mind.
"Won’t the wings break or sothing?"
For a heartbeat, Alfred just stared at him.
Then—
"Boy," Alfred snapped, spinning toward him. "What do you think my little baby is? A toy?"
Trafalgar blinked.
"Do you honestly think a bit of seawater can damage my ship?"
"I an..." Trafalgar shrugged slightly. "I had no idea. That’s why I asked."
Alfred rubbed his face with one hand, clearly offended on a personal level.
"I’ve crossed storms that tear islands apart, currents that eat mana, and skies that try to kill you just for existing," he growled. "And you’re worried about the ocean?"
Trafalgar raised both hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright. ssage received."
"Hmph." Alfred turned away. "Stay put. I have a maneuver to perform."
With that, he marched back toward the control cabin, muttering sothing under his breath about "kids" and "questioning engineering."
Trafalgar exhaled slowly and looked back out at the ocean.
The water below was calm.
Trafalgar watched the ocean for a few more seconds before finally stepping away from the railing. The wind tugged lightly at his hair, cold but steady, carrying the faint scent of salt even at this altitude.
He straightened, rolled his shoulders once, then reached for the shirt folded beside him. A simple white garnt—nothing ornate, nothing heavy. He pulled it on without hurry, the fabric settling against his skin as the hum of the ship shifted subtly beneath his feet.
Only then did he notice he wasn’t alone.
Caelum stood a few steps away, hands clasped behind his back, golden eyes fixed on Trafalgar with quiet scrutiny. He hadn’t made a sound approaching.
"...You’ve advanced quite a bit, young master," Caelum said calmly.
Trafalgar glanced at him, mildly surprised, then nodded.
"Thanks."
Caelum’s gaze lingered for a mont longer before he continued.
"There is still more than half the journey remaining. You may relax now. Your training for today is complete."
Trafalgar leaned back against the railing, arms resting at his sides.
"There’s not much else to do," he replied. "Standing around on the deck isn’t exactly thrilling."
Caelum shifted his attention toward the ocean below.
"I am not saying this for comfort," he said. "I am saying it because of what could happen."
Trafalgar followed his gaze.
"...Monsters?" he asked. "I wouldn’t mind a bit of practice, honestly."
Caelum turned to face him fully now.
"The issue is not their presence," he said. "It is their rank."
Trafalgar frowned slightly.
"In the middle of the open ocean," Caelum continued, "there are no weak creatures. Only those strong enough to survive isolation."
Trafalgar let out a slow breath.
"So... Apex? Paragon?"
Caelum shook his head imdiately.
"Oh gods, no. If it were Apex, we would be in trouble—though we would manage." He paused. "But Pri or Ascend? Almost certainly."
Trafalgar’s jaw tightened.
’One or two ranks above ...’ he thought. ’Not impossible. But I can feel the difference after reaching the fourth core. Pri won’t co easily.’
The ship began its descent.
The descent was smooth.
So smooth, in fact, that Trafalgar barely noticed it at first. The horizon tilted almost imperceptibly as the vessel lowered itself toward the ocean, mana thrusters shifting from lift to stabilization. The constant hum of flight softened into a deeper, heavier vibration—one ant to endure pressure rather than defy it.
The mont the hull touched the water, there was no crash.
No violent jolt.
Just a muted, rolling thrum that traveled through the deck and vanished.
Trafalgar blinked.
"...That’s it?"
Caelum didn’t look surprised.
"Yes."
The ship continued forward, now cutting across the ocean’s surface at near the sa speed as before. Waves split cleanly along the reinforced hull, water hissing and spraying outward before sealing itself again behind them.
Inside the ship, however, the difference was noticeable.
From sowhere below, muffled shouts echoed—workers grabbing railings, steadying equipnt, adjusting ballast and mana flow. There were around twenty of them aboard, each trained for monts like this.
Trafalgar felt none of it.
He remained perfectly balanced.
Then—
The ship trembled.
A subtle shudder rippled across the deck, like sothing brushing against the underside.
Trafalgar’s eyes sharpened.
"Did you feel that?"
Caelum’s answer was imdiate.
"Yes."
Before either of them could move, footsteps thundered across the deck. Alfred erged from the captain’s quarters, his expression serious now—no humor, no sarcasm.
"Careful," he barked. "There’s sothing beneath us."
Trafalgar turned toward the railing, scanning the water.
"Big?"
Alfred’s jaw tightened.
"Big enough to be curious."
Caelum’s golden eyes shifted toward Trafalgar.
"I warned you, young master."
Trafalgar exhaled slowly.
’Please don’t be another fifty-ter monster,’ he thought. ’I’m not in the mood.’
Another impact followed.
This one was stronger.
The ship swayed, waves surging outward as sothing massive displaced the water beneath them.
Trafalgar braced himself, boots digging into the deck.
"Is the ship alright?" he asked.
Alfred snorted, regaining a hint of confidence.
"Relax. There’s nothing under the rank of your father that could break this vessel."
He paused, eyes narrowing as he focused on the readings.
"...But from the movent pattern—"
A low grin ford.
"Looks like we’ve run into a Leviathan."
The sea below them darkened.
And sothing vast shifted beneath the surface.
Trafalgar moved closer to the railing, eyes fixed on the ocean below. The water no longer looked calm. A vast, shifting shadow slid beneath the surface, its outline warping as waves rolled over it. It wasn’t erratic, nor aggressive—just slow, deliberate, curious. Whatever it was, it knew the ship was there. And it wasn’t afraid.
"A leviathan...?" Trafalgar muttered under his breath.
The word alone carried weight. Stories, warnings, half-myths told by sailors who never returned. Enormous marine beasts, rulers of the deep, creatures that made the ocean itself feel small. His grip tightened slightly on the railing as his eyes tried to gauge its size through distortion and depth.
’All of that was fantasy... but now I’m in a fantasy world...’
Alfred leaned forward, peering down with a practiced eye, one hand resting casually on the ship’s fra as if they weren’t floating above sothing that could swallow a house whole.
"...Hah," he said after a mont. "We got lucky."
Trafalgar turned sharply. "Lucky?"
Alfred straightened, a sharp grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It’s young. Not fully grown yet."
That didn’t help.
Trafalgar looked back at the sea. As the shadow passed closer to the surface, its shape beca clearer. Long. Thick. Muscular. Not the fifty-ter nightmare his mind had jumped to—but still massive. Roughly twenty ters, give or take. Big enough that the idea of facing it made his instincts itch.
Caelum stepped beside him, golden eyes reflecting the dark water below.
"It is a hatchling," Caelum said calmly. "Leviathans are born at Pri rank."
Trafalgar stiffened slightly.
"Pri..." he repeated.
"One rank above you," Caelum added, tone neutral.
Trafalgar exhaled slowly, mind racing. A Pri-ranked monster. In the open sea. With unknown depth beneath them, unknown threats nearby. His instincts scread caution.
Then Caelum said sothing unexpected.
"...Would you like to try, young master?"
Trafalgar turned to him, eyes wide for a fraction of a second.
"Try?" he echoed. "You an—fight that?"
Alfred glanced over, raising a brow but not intervening.
Trafalgar’s thoughts spiraled. The danger. The uncertainty. The fact that this wasn’t land—no solid footing, no clear escape. And yet...
His mind drifted to the mine. To the spider. To the rewards he hadn’t expected.
’What if it drops sothing?’ he thought. ’Sothing rare... sothing worth the risk.’
He hesitated, jaw tightening as he weighed instinct against ambition.
Caelum watched him closely, reading the conflict with unsettling clarity.
Then, flatly—almost casually—he said:
"You don’t have the balls, young master."
The words hung in the air.
Trafalgar slowly turned his head toward Caelum.
"...What did you just say?"
For a brief mont, the world seed to pause.
The wind swept across the deck, salt heavy in the air. The ocean rolled beneath them, dark and endless, the massive shadow still circling with lazy curiosity. Even the ship’s engines seed to hum quieter, as if waiting.
Trafalgar stared at Caelum.
Golden eyes. Calm posture. No hint of humor.
He hadn’t misspoken. He hadn’t misspoken at all.
"...I don’t have the balls," Trafalgar repeated slowly, tasting the words. "That’s what you’re going with?"
Caelum t his gaze without flinching.
"You heard ," he said evenly. "You hesitate when there is risk. That is not weakness—but it is a choice. If you intend to grow faster than others, you must stop making safe ones."
Trafalgar clenched his jaw. His eyes flicked back to the sea, to the moving shadow below. The leviathan brushed the surface now, water bulging upward as its massive form passed beneath the hull. Twenty ters of muscle and scale. Pri-ranked. Strong. Dangerous.
Stupid.
’This is reckless,’ he thought. ’I could die. If there’s sothing else down there—if it drags
under—’
Another thought followed, quieter but sharper.
’...And what if it doesn’t?’
His mana stirred.
Slowly at first. Then faster. The air around his right hand warped, pressure condensing as sothing answered his call. With a low, resonant hum, Maledicta materialized in his grip.
The sword pulsed.
Hungry.
Trafalgar exhaled and rolled his shoulders, grip tightening as the weight of the blade settled into sothing familiar. Comfortable. His fear didn’t vanish—but it sharpened, forged into focus.
Alfred stared at him from across the deck.
"...You’re not seriously thinking about jumping in, are you?"
Trafalgar didn’t look at him.
"Relax," he said calmly. "I won’t stray too far."
Alfred swore under his breath.
Caelum stepped back half a pace, giving him space. For the first ti, there was sothing like approval in his eyes.
"Your call, young master."
Trafalgar walked to the edge of the deck, the ocean stretching endlessly beneath him. The shadow below shifted, rising slightly, as if it had sensed his intent.
Maledicta humd in his hand, mana surging through the blade.
He paused... then turned his head just enough to look at Caelum.
"Caelum," he said calmly.
Caelum t his gaze.
"I do have them," Trafalgar continued, a sharp grin forming. "Really fucking big."
For a brief mont, the wind was the only sound.
Then Caelum nodded once, utterly unfazed.
"I’m sure of it, young master."
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