At the dark sea where the storm howled and waves clashed, dozens of black-hulled longships pushed through the night.
Thunder cracked above as hundreds of n rowed with steady rhythm, their chants mixing with the roar of the ocean.
"Captain Sigvar! We’ll reach land soon!" one of the warriors shouted over the storm. "According to the map, there are towns and cities ahead, perfect for our first blood!"
The man at the bow didn’t answer right away. His cloak whipped in the wind, soaked by rain. When he turned, lightning flashed, revealing a huge X-shaped scar running across his face. His eyes glead with a cold fire.
In his hand, he held a massive greatsword, its blade dark yet gleaming faintly under the lightning. Around him stood dozens of chosen warriors, those said to bear their god’s blessings. Strange tattoos glowed faintly on their arms and chests, shifting like living marks each ti thunder struck.
Sigvar raised his sword to the sky, the rain sliding off the edge like streams of blood.
"Let the n rest for now," he said, his voice calm but heavy. "Once we set foot on land, the hunt begins. We’ll claim this war in the na of our king, Hroldir the Dreadwake."
A fierce roar erupted from the fleet, as hundreds of voices shouted as one. Their cries rose above the crashing waves, a promise of blood and conquest that echoed across the raging sea.
.....
Back in the Duke’s office, the air was calm again, only the faint sound of the wind brushing against the windows filling the silence.
’So that’s why his growth is slow,’ Lumberling thought, watching the man across from him. Three hundred years, and at Knight Three... that’s just a little faster than average.’
He placed his cup down gently and spoke with a hint of respect. "Then I should call you senior," Lumberling said with an easy smile. "To live in seclusion for that long, focusing on your path, it’s admirable. You truly live like a cultivator, calmly walking your own road, Senior."
Hadric gave a small laugh, shaking his head. "I did train, yes," he said, his tone light but carrying sothing deeper beneath it. "But that’s not why I lived in isolation."
His gaze drifted to the side, eyes softening as if looking at sothing only he could see. "In my first life," he began, "I was nothing special. Just an outer disciple struggling to survive each day, fighting for scraps of opportunity. I clawed my way up until I finally beca an elder. That was the greatest thing I ever achieved..."
He paused, his expression calm but distant. "...before dying of old age."
"So, senior was an outer disciple too," Lumberling said, leaning back slightly. "We’re alike then. I also started as an outer disciple in my previous life. But unlike you, I didn’t make it far. I died during a mission, just another na forgotten."
His tone carried a hint of disappointnt, frustration mixed with acceptance. Hadric didn’t interrupt. He only nodded slowly, and in that silence, it felt like they shared the sa unspoken understanding. Two n who had once lived ordinary lives, clawing their way up only to be forgotten by ti.
"That’s why," Lumberling continued, his voice firr now, "in this life, I’ll live to the fullest. No more being average. I’ll reach the top one day, no matter what it takes."
Hadric t his gaze, studying the determination shining in Lumberling’s eyes. A faint, genuine smile finally touched his face. "I had that sa dream once," he said softly, his voice carrying a trace of nostalgia. "Long ago, I carried that sa fire."
"Long ago?" Lumberling raised an eyebrow, then chuckled lightly. "Ah, I get it. You’ve already reached the top, haven’t you, Senior."
He scratched the back of his head with a wry grin, and the Duke’s faint laughter filled the quiet room.
"One of the top?" Hadric chuckled, shaking his head. "I suppose that makes sense if you look at it from the empire’s point of view."
Lumberling frowned slightly, tilting his head. "What do you an, Senior? I don’t get it. You’re already a Duke, a powerful Knight, and a martial artist. In my eyes, only those at the top stand where you are."
Hadric smiled faintly, though. "There are plenty who can match , and even more who could crush within this empire alone."
Lumberling’s expression shifted, a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "That can’t be right. You’re saying there are people that strong here?"
Hadric nodded slowly. "Like you, I once believed effort was everything. After my second chance at life, I was determined to surpass every limit I had in my past life. My talent was ordinary, but I pushed myself harder than anyone else. I trained as both a martial artist and a Knight, believing I was unique in this world."
He paused, his tone softening as his eyes drifted toward the window. "But I was wrong. This world... has beings far beyond what we can comprehend. Their strength isn’t sothing you can reach through training or discipline alone. No matter how much effort we pour in, sotis it simply doesn’t matter."
Lumberling t the Duke’s eyes and saw sothing he recognized all too well. He had seen that sa look before, eyes that had once burned with hunger and drive but had long since dimd. It wasn’t peace or satisfaction he saw there, it was the quiet acceptance of limits. The kind people wore when they had stopped chasing the horizon.
His brows furrowed. "I don’t understand, Senior. You’re already plenty strong..."
"I am not," Hadric cut him off firmly. His voice wasn’t angry, just heavy. "Maybe if I hadn’t t them, I would have believed that too."
Lumberling straightened slightly, curiosity lighting in his eyes. "Them? Who are you talking about?"
Hadric leaned back in his chair, gaze turning distant once again. "When I was still young back then," he began slowly, "I had already reached the True Knight Stage... and on the martial path, I stood at a similar level. I thought that made soone worth rembering."
Lumberling sighed inwardly, suppressing a small smirk. ’Here we go again. Another story. Maybe it’s an old man thing.’ Still, he folded his arms and listened carefully. ’Fine... I’ve got ti. And who knows, this might actually be useful.’
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