Chapter 359: Fourth Station
"You've got potential, but potential alone won't get you far on this expedition. Head to the third station. Walk straight and then turn right, you will see the sign."
Lucavion inclined his head at Edran's directions, but the faintest furrow creased his brow. His sharp memory immediately recalled the path the blonde girl and her companion had taken earlier.
They turned left, he thought, the detail standing out like a ripple in still water.
For a moment, his mind turned the observation over, questioning its significance. Edran had directed him to the third station—straight ahead and to the right. Yet the pair from earlier had clearly gone left. Was it a coincidence? Or had they been assigned to a different group entirely?
Lucavion kept his expression neutral, offering a faint smirk as he responded. "Understood, Captain. I'll head there right away."
Edran gave a curt nod, his focus already shifting back to the papers on his desk.
Turning on his heel, Lucavion strode out of the chamber, his steps deliberate but unhurried. Vitaliara's voice brushed against his thoughts as he exited into the bustling hallway. [Something bothering you?]
Not particularly, he replied his tone calm but edged with faint curiosity.
Lucavion walked with purpose, his dark eyes scanning the hallway as he approached the next guard station. He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment to the guard, who stepped aside without a word.
Instead of turning right as instructed, Lucavion smoothly veered left, his steps unhurried but deliberate.
[Where are you going?] Vitaliara's voice chimed in, her tone suspicious. [Didn't he say to turn right?]
Lucavion smiled faintly, his tone light. Well, let's say, I don't like following orders.
[Oh, I know you don't like following orders,] Vitaliara retorted, her glowing form shifting on his shoulder. [But you're also not someone who'd go against them just for the sake of it.]
Lucavion chuckled softly, his smirk deepening. Heh… What are you implying, my dear?
There was a pause before Vitaliara replied, her voice quieter but sharper. [That girl… Are you following her trail?]
Lucavion's face didn't falter, though a glimmer of amusement sparked in his eyes. Wherever did you get that idea?
He continued down the left hallway, his eyes scanning the signs along the walls. The passage was quieter here, with fewer adventurers milling about. His gaze caught two signs at a junction ahead: Fourth Station and Second Station, each pointing in a different direction.
Lucavion slowed his pace slightly, his expression thoughtful. Which one did they go to? he wondered silently.
[Fourth,] Vitaliara answered for him, her tone confident. [While you entered, I looked for that girl. She went this way.]
Lucavion raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more contemplative. You've been busy, haven't you? he thought, his tone carrying a hint of teasing.
[Someone has to keep an eye on your distractions,] Vitaliara replied with a flick of her tail. [Now, are you going, or are you going to stand here pondering like an idiot?]
Why mad?
[I am not MAD!]
Mad?
[…..]
Lucavion adjusted his coat and stepped into the room marked Fourth Station. The space was modest, filled with neatly arranged desks and shelves stacked with scrolls and ledgers. At the far side of the room, a man sat behind a heavy wooden desk, scribbling notes into a logbook.
Lucavion's sharp eyes scanned the man briefly, taking in his composed demeanor and the faint but unmistakable air of discipline. Hmm, from the looks of it, this guy is also a knight, he thought, noting the upright posture and the faint scars visible along the man's forearms.
The knight glanced up as Lucavion entered, his expression neutral but observant. "Can I help you?" he asked, his tone formal but not unfriendly.
Lucavion offered a polite nod, his smirk faint but present. "Luca," he said smoothly. "Captain Edran sent me here to register for the expedition."
The man raised an eyebrow slightly, then set down his quill and gestured toward the desk in front of him. "Take a seat."
Lucavion complied, sliding into the chair with an effortless grace as he placed his ID on the desk. The knight picked it up, his eyes scanning the details quickly before setting it aside. "Name: Luca. Adventurer rank: D. Occupation: Swordsman. Is that correct?"
"Spot on," Lucavion replied with a faint smirk.
The knight gave a curt nod and began filling out a form with practiced efficiency. His quill scratched against the parchment as he asked a few standard questions—emergency contact, prior experience, and whether Lucavion had any medical conditions that could affect the expedition.
Lucavion answered each question with his usual nonchalance, keeping his responses concise but cooperative.
It didn't take long before the knight set down his quill and rolled up the completed form. He tucked it into a cylindrical holder before turning back to Lucavion. "Your registration is complete," the knight said, his tone businesslike. "You'll receive further instructions at the briefing. Stay alert and prepared."
Lucavion inclined his head slightly as he stood. "Understood. Thank you."
The knight nodded once more before returning to his logbook, his attention already shifting back to his work.
As Lucavion stepped out of the station, Vitaliara's voice drifted into his mind. [That was surprisingly uneventful.]
Sometimes, my dear, efficiency is its own kind of art, Lucavion replied, his smirk deepening slightly as he adjusted his coat.
[Efficiency?] Vitaliara's tone carried a note of teasing. [I'm sure you were just hoping to see her again.]
Lucavion chuckled softly, his pace unchanging as he moved down the corridor. You really are mistaking it.
[If you were me, what would you think?]
Lucavion chuckled softly as he adjusted his coat, his pace unhurried as he moved through the corridor. If I were in your position, my dear, he began smoothly, I'd likely think I was following that girl too.
[See?] Vitaliara shot back, her tone triumphant but laced with curiosity. [So, you admit it.]
Lucavion's smirk deepened, a flicker of mischief gleaming in his dark eyes. Ah, but that would only be the case if I were a normal guy.
[And you're not?] Vitaliara's glowing form flickered as she tilted her head, her voice carrying a note of skepticism. [Last I checked, you can bleed like everyone else.]
True enough, Lucavion conceded, his tone light, but we both know I'm not normal. Right? If I were following her, it wouldn't be for the reasons you're assuming. It would be... for something different.
[Then what might that reason be?] Vitaliara pressed, her glowing eyes narrowing as her tail flicked lightly against his neck.
Lucavion's face softened into something more enigmatic, his gaze flickering with amusement. As I said before, my dear... that's for you to figure out.
[I really can't remember how much I say this but, you are impossible] Vitaliara muttered, her tone exasperated but tinged with reluctant fondness. [You know that, right?]
Lucavion laughed softly, his dark eyes scanning the hallways ahead as he continued toward the briefing. And yet, you still can't help but stay curious. Isn't that why we make such a perfect pair?
Vitaliara huffed, her glowing form settling back into its usual perch on his shoulder. [Perfectly infuriating, you mean.]
Lucavion didn't reply immediately, his smirk lingering as his thoughts wandered. The truth, of course, was far more layered than he let on. But for now, letting Vitaliara chase her own theories was half the fun.
Lucavion exited the camp, the city of Stormhaven opening before him in all its vibrancy. The salty breeze from the ocean teased his senses, mingling with the scents of freshly baked bread, sizzling meats, and tangy spices wafting from street stalls. The rhythmic clinking of metal from blacksmiths' forges blended with the hum of voices bartering, laughing, and occasionally shouting in the market square.
For a brief moment, Lucavion stood still, taking it all in. His hand lingered near his collar as a faint smile crept onto his lips. Ocean, chaotic yet soothing in its way.
'A coffee would be nice,' he mused, the thought bringing a touch of familiarity to the foreign surroundings. It wasn't a grand request, but there was something grounding about the idea of a steaming cup of coffee amid the city's bustle.
[Coffee? Now? In all this noise?] Vitaliara's voice chimed in, a touch of amusement laced with skepticism. [You really are an odd one, Lucavion.]
He chuckled softly, his dark eyes scanning the streets. "Odd, am I? Or just a man who knows what he wants?"
[Oh, please. You're about as simple as a twelve-piece puzzle made of glass.]
"Flattery will get you nowhere," he replied with a smirk, his voice low enough not to draw attention as he moved deeper into the market. But try as he might, no enticing aroma of coffee wafted through the air. Instead, he found himself drawn into the maze of colorful stalls and wandering merchants, each one promising something rarer or more exotic than the last.
Among the crowd, he noticed a small booth tucked into the corner of the square, its wares shrouded in shadow beneath a tattered awning. Intrigued, he approached, his gaze flickering over the items laid out with care: vials of swirling liquids, charms inscribed with runes, and small pouches of herbs that seemed to exude a faint, otherworldly glow.
"Well, well," he murmured, his fingers brushing against the edge of a charm. "And what treasures do we have here?"
The merchant, an older man with sharp, piercing eyes, looked up from his seat. "Only the finest, traveler. These are no ordinary trinkets—they're crafted with precision and blessed by the artisans of Lorian."
"Lorian, you say?" Lucavion's brow arched slightly as he turned the charm over in his hand. "Yet I don't see their mark. Odd for something blessed by such renowned hands."
The merchant hesitated, a flicker of nervousness crossing his face before he quickly recovered. "Ah, but that's because these are rare, made for the discreet buyer. Their value lies in their secrecy."
Caught you there. Lucavion set the charm back down, his smirk never faltering. "Discretion has its price," he replied smoothly, "but so does honesty." With a slight incline of his head, he stepped away, leaving the merchant to sputter excuses to the next curious passerby.
[You could've called him out more directly, you know,] Vitaliara teased, her tail flicking lightly against his shoulder. [Why let him off so easily?]
"Because, my dear, the best way to disarm a liar is to leave him wondering how much you know," Lucavion replied, his tone casual but laced with amusement. "Besides, I'm still on a mission."
[A mission for coffee? Truly noble.]
"Where will you find such a noble guy such myself?"
Vitaliara's face twitched at that remark.
'If you were a noble, everyone would be one…..'
Though she didn't say this part.
Chapter 360: Here are the things
The following day, Lucavion stepped into the bustling guildhall, his sharp gaze immediately sweeping over the lively scene before him. The room was packed, a cacophony of laughter, shouting, and the occasional clink of glasses filling the air. Adventurers of all shapes and sizes clustered around the tables, some sharing tales of their exploits, others locked in arm-wrestling contests that sent fists crashing onto wooden surfaces.
Lucavion adjusted his coat as he moved further into the room, his dark eyes flicking over the unfamiliar faces. The people here had a distinct look—coastal, with a ruggedness honed by the sea. Their attire reflected the influence of the ocean that defined Stormhaven's identity. Men sported open vests or shirts, their chests bare and bronzed from long days under the sun. Women wore light, flowing garments that bared their shoulders and arms, some even their midriffs. The fabrics were vibrant, dyed in rich blues, greens, and whites that mirrored the colors of the waves.
[Quite the display,] Vitaliara remarked, her glowing eyes scanning the room from her perch on his shoulder. [It's a far cry from the more reserved styles we've seen inland.]
"Indeed," Lucavion replied, his tone light but thoughtful. "The sea leaves its mark on everything, doesn't it? Including the people."
His gaze lingered on a group of adventurers at a nearby table. They were pirates—or at least heavily influenced by the culture—laughing raucously as one of them slammed a tankard down, foam spilling over the edges. One of the women in the group threw her head back, her sun-kissed hair catching the light as she laughed, the sound carrying above the din.
Lucavion couldn't help but smirk faintly. "Lively bunch."
[And loud,] Vitaliara added, her tail flicking slightly in mild exasperation. [Though I suppose that's part of their charm.]
He stepped further into the guild, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. The tables were littered with maps, bottles, and weapons, each object telling a story of the adventurers who owned them. The scent of saltwater and ale mingled with the faint tang of sweat, creating an atmosphere that was equal parts chaotic and invigorating.
As he approached the counter, he noted the bulletin board to his left, its surface plastered with notices. Job postings, bounties, and expedition rosters jostled for space, each one scrawled with bold, hurried letters. His sharp eyes caught a few high-paying bounties, but nothing out of the ordinary—yet.
The guild receptionist, a sharp-eyed woman with dark hair tied back in a practical braid, noticed him coming and glanced up as Lucavion approached.
'Black hair, black eyes, and scar on the right eye. It is this guy.'
"Please wait a second."
The guild receptionist leaned slightly forward, her sharp eyes locking onto Lucavion's distinctive features: jet-black hair, equally dark eyes, and the faint scar etched over his right eye. Her gaze lingered for only a moment before a smile curved her lips, polite yet carrying a hint of intrigue.
"Mister Luca!" she called, her voice cutting cleanly through the lively din of the guildhall.
The sudden attention was palpable. Heads turned, conversations paused, and more than a few adventurers sized him up, their gazes ranging from idle curiosity to subtle scrutiny. Lucavion didn't flinch under the weight of their stares. Instead, he adjusted the cuff of his coat with a faint smirk, his expression calm and unaffected as he approached the counter.
The receptionist straightened, her professional demeanor intact. "The Guild Master has been expecting you," she said, her voice clear but tinged with an air of formality. "If you'll follow the hallway to the right, her office is at the end. She's waiting for you."
Lucavion inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes catching hers for a brief moment. "Understood," he replied smoothly. "Thank you."
She gestured toward the indicated hallway, but before he turned to leave, her gaze softened, a flicker of something akin to amusement or curiosity crossing her features. "Good luck," she added, her voice quieter now, as though the words were meant for him alone.
Lucavion nodded once more, offering a faint, enigmatic smile before heading toward the hallway. Behind him, the murmurs of the guild resumed, some hushed whispers clearly directed at him.
[You seem to attract attention wherever you go,] Vitaliara remarked, her glowing form shifting slightly on his shoulder. [Must be exhausting.]
"Not really."
Lucavion reached the end of the hallway and knocked lightly on the polished wooden door. A familiar voice, calm yet tinged with a subtle edge of amusement, called out from within.
"Come in."
He pushed the door open, stepping into the Guild Master's office. The room was spacious but not ostentatious, with shelves lined with neatly organized books and ledgers. A map of the region dominated one wall, while a large desk occupied the center, papers and ink bottles arranged with meticulous care.
Behind the desk sat Corvina, her sharp eyes lifting from the document she'd been reviewing. A smile curled her lips, welcoming yet carrying her usual calculated charm.
"Mister Luca," she greeted, rising gracefully to her feet. "Punctual as always. A quality I appreciate."
Lucavion inclined his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Guild Master," he replied smoothly. "A punctual guest is only fair to a gracious host."
Corvina chuckled softly, her gaze briefly sweeping over him. "Always so eloquent. You know, if you weren't already infamous for your... other talents, I'd think you'd make an excellent courtier."
Lucavion's smirk deepened as he approached the desk. "I'll take that as a compliment, though I can't say I'd enjoy being confined to court. I've always preferred... freer surroundings."
Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she gestured to the seat before her desk. "Please, have a seat. Unless, of course, you prefer standing."
Lucavion settled into the offered chair, his posture relaxed yet composed. "Standing would imply impatience," he said, his tone light. "And I find your company quite agreeable."
Corvina arched an eyebrow, her smile lingering. "Careful, Mister Luca. Flattery is a dangerous game, especially with someone like me."
Lucavion leaned back slightly. "And yet, you seem to enjoy playing along."
Corvina laughed softly, the sound carrying a touch of warmth before she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "I'll admit, you make it hard not to." Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she straightened, her demeanor shifting to something more professional.
"But let's get to the matter at hand," she said, her voice now steady and businesslike. "The materials you requested—they've been gathered. I have to say, your list was quite the challenge, but my people are nothing if not resourceful."
Lucavion's dark eyes gleamed faintly as he inclined his head. "That's very nice to hear, Guild Master. You certainly live up to your reputation."
Corvina allowed herself a faint smile, leaning back in her chair as she observed him. "It's not every day we receive such... interesting clients. I make it a point to deliver when the stakes are high."
Lucavion's smirk softened into something more contemplative. "And when the stakes are interesting, I presume."
"Precisely," Corvina replied, her tone tinged with playful intrigue. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. The materials are ready for your inspection whenever you're prepared."
Lucavion inclined his head once more, his smirk returning. "Lead the way, Guild Master."
She rose from her seat with a fluid motion, gesturing toward a side door that led to an adjoining storage area. As they moved, Lucavion couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in her demeanor—always poised.
[She's sharp,] Vitaliara commented in his mind, her tone thoughtful. [But annoying.]
'Why?'
[She is flirty….It is annoying.]
'Jealous?'
[I am not!]
'Then what is the matter?'
[Nothing. It is just annoying.]
'Is that so?'
[It is!]
Lucavion followed Corvina into the storage area, a well-lit room lined with shelves and crates, each meticulously labeled and organized. The scent of preserved herbs and minerals filled the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of rare ores.
Corvina gestured toward a table in the center of the room, where a selection of items had been laid out with care. The materials were neatly arranged—bundles of rare herbs, vials of shimmering liquids, and chunks of gleaming minerals. Each item bore the mark of quality, their vibrant colors and pristine conditions speaking to the effort that had gone into procuring them.
[These look... impressive,] Vitaliara admitted begrudgingly, her voice softer now. [Annoying or not, she delivered.]
Lucavion stepped closer to the table, his sharp eyes scanning each item as he picked them up one by one, inspecting them with a practiced touch. The herbs were fresh, their leaves unmarred by decay. The vials held liquids that shimmered with a faint inner light, a sign of potent magical properties. The minerals were flawlessly cut, their surfaces smooth and reflective.
Satisfied, Lucavion set the last item down and turned to Corvina, his dark eyes gleaming. His smirk softened into a genuine smile, rare but unmistakable. "Impressive," he said, his voice carrying a note of sincere appreciation. "Every piece is exactly as I requested. Some of these are even higher quality than I expected."
Corvina's lips curved into a pleased smile, though she tried to mask it with a casual shrug. "I told you my people were resourceful. We don't take shortcuts, especially when the stakes are this high."
Lucavion inclined his head slightly, his expression thoughtful. "You've certainly exceeded expectations, Guild Master. I'll admit, I'm impressed."
Corvina's smile deepened, her tone laced with subtle amusement. "Coming from you, I'll take that as high praise."
Lucavion chuckled softly, his smirk returning. "I do give them out—sparingly, of course. But only when they're earned."
She crossed her arms, leaning slightly against the table as she regarded him with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. "Well, I'm glad we could deliver. I assume this puts us in your good graces?"
Lucavion's smile lingered as he stepped back, adjusting his coat. "For now, Guild Master. For now."
[Is that it? No more flirting?] Vitaliara's voice cut into his thoughts, her tone tinged with faint annoyance.
For now, Lucavion replied inwardly, his smirk deepening as he turned toward the door. Don't want to make you too jealous, after all.
[I'm not jealous!] Vitaliara shot back, her glow flaring briefly.
Lucavion chuckled quietly as he exited the storage area, the faint sound of Corvina's laughter following him.
Chapter 361: The Expedition
The air in the bathing chamber was warm, the scent of lavender and herbs lingering in the steam that rose from the water. Aeliana sat still in the large, ornate tub, her slender form submerged to the shoulders as she endured the gentle ministrations of the maids. The water swirled softly around her, its heat soothing the ever-present ache in her muscles, but her mind was far from at ease.
The maids moved with practiced precision, their hands working carefully to cleanse her without hesitation. Their eyes, however, remained closed, as per her explicit instructions. They had learned early on that to disobey this rule—to so much as glance at her skin—was to face her wrath, a punishment no one dared provoke.
Aeliana's fingers gripped the edges of the tub, her knuckles pale against the polished porcelain. The sound of water sloshing and the soft murmur of the maids' movements filled the room, but she could sense their unease, even if they tried to hide it. They always did.
"Turn your head slightly, my lady," one of the maids said, her tone neutral, her hands poised to rinse Aeliana's hair. Aeliana complied without a word, tilting her head back as warm water poured gently over her dark tresses. The maids avoided her skin as much as possible, their hands brushing her hair and robes only when absolutely necessary.
Another maid reached for a soft cloth and began to scrub Aeliana's arms, her motions delicate yet thorough. The heat of the water made the marks on Aeliana's skin more visible beneath the surface—the blackened lines, the cracked and uneven texture that marred her once-perfect complexion. Even with their eyes closed, the maids could feel the texture beneath their fingers, but they dared not react.
Aeliana's lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw tightening as she watched them work. "Do it quickly," she said coldly, her voice cutting through the quiet. The maids flinched slightly but nodded, their hands moving more briskly.
"Yes, my lady," one replied softly, her voice wavering just enough to betray her nerves.
When the bath was done, the maids guided her out of the tub with care, their eyes still tightly shut as they wrapped her in a thick, embroidered towel. Aeliana allowed them to pat her dry, her movements stiff and deliberate as she tried to avoid their touch. The heat of the bath lingered on her skin, mingling with the prickling discomfort of being exposed, even if no one could see her.
The comb moved through her damp hair in steady, rhythmic strokes, the sound oddly soothing. For a moment, Aeliana closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the sensation. But it didn't last. Her thoughts clawed at her, relentless and cruel.
'This is who I've become,' she thought, her hands clenching the fabric of the towel tightly. 'A creature so pitiful that I can't even bear to let them see me.'
After drying her, the maids moved with efficient precision, fetching the simple garments that made up Aeliana's wardrobe. The clothes were plain—unadorned blouses and skirts, chosen for their practicality rather than elegance. Aeliana had long abandoned the elaborate silks and embroidered gowns that once defined her station. What was the point, when no one could see them beneath her ever-present veil and robe?
The first maid helped her into the blouse, the fabric soft but functional, slipping over her shoulders with practiced ease. The second maid adjusted the skirt, fastening it securely at her waist. Their hands were quick, careful, and deliberately impersonal. Their eyes remained shut, their expressions neutral, as though willing themselves to become invisible.
Aeliana watched them silently, her jaw tightening with every moment. She hated this—hated the necessity of their hands on her, of their presence in her most vulnerable moments. But she said nothing, her pride and her shame locking the words in her throat.
When the final button was fastened, the maids stepped back in unison, bowing their heads slightly as they waited for her next instruction. Aeliana turned away from them, reaching for the thick, dark robe that hung over a nearby chair. She draped it over her shoulders, the heavy fabric settling around her like a second skin. The veil came last, its soft material brushing against her face as she adjusted it carefully to ensure no trace of her skin was visible.
The maids waited silently until she turned back to them, her veiled figure now completely concealed. "You may go," she said curtly, her voice cold and detached.
"Yes, my lady," they replied in unison, their heads bowing once more before they quietly exited the room.
For a moment, Aeliana stood in the silence, her hands clutching the edges of her robe. Her heart was heavy, her breaths slow and deliberate as she tried to steady herself. The bath had done little to ease the ache in her body or the weight on her mind.
A knock at the door broke her reverie.
"My Lady, are you ready?" a voice called from the other side. It was steady, polite, and unmistakably familiar.
Madeleina. Her attendant and the one tasked with overseeing her during the expedition.
Aeliana's fingers curled around the edge of her robe. "Enter," she said, her voice measured but edged with weariness.
The door opened, and Madeleina stepped inside. Her presence was calm and composed, her uniform pristine and her demeanor professional. Her gaze swept over Aeliana briefly, her expression giving away nothing as she regarded the veiled figure before her.
"The preparations are complete," Madeleina said, clasping her hands in front of her. "The carriage is ready, and the knights have been briefed. I trust you are prepared as well?"
Aeliana nodded once, her movements slow and deliberate. "I am," she replied, her tone clipped.
"Very well," Madeleina said. "If you require anything further before we depart, now is the time."
"I require nothing," Aeliana said, her voice firm. "Let us go."
Madeleina nodded, stepping aside to hold the door open. Aeliana straightened her posture, adjusting the folds of her robe one final time before stepping forward. Her steps were steady, but each one felt heavier than the last, the weight of anticipation and trepidation bearing down on her.
The corridor stretched ahead, lined with servants who bowed their heads as she passed. They didn't look at her, didn't dare lift their eyes, and Aeliana was both grateful and resentful for their deference.
This was it. Her first step outside the confines of her room in years, even if it was only to watch from afar. It wasn't freedom, not truly—but it was something. And for now, it would have to be enough.
********
Lucavion arrived at the designated gathering place, a sprawling open courtyard near Stormhaven's harbor. The air buzzed with tension and energy as dozens of individuals milled about, their armor and weapons gleaming under the afternoon sun.
His sharp eyes swept over the crowd, noting the variety of personnel gathered. Adventurers in mismatched gear exchanged stories and adjusted their equipment, their expressions a mix of excitement and unease.
Mercenaries stood in tight-knit groups, their stances radiating practiced confidence. Soldiers from the Duke's household, clad in uniformed armor, moved with disciplined precision as they lined up in formation. Among them were mages, their robes marked with arcane symbols, speaking quietly among themselves as faint traces of mana shimmered around them.
Lucavion adjusted his coat as he stepped closer, his presence unnoticed by most but drawing a few curious glances from those who felt the quiet intensity he carried.
[Quite the gathering,] Vitaliara remarked, her glowing form perched lightly on his shoulder. [Everyone looks so prepared.]
Prepared, but for what? Lucavion thought, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the assembly.
A raised platform at the front of the courtyard caught his attention. Standing atop it was a tall man in ornate armor bearing the Duke's crest—a golden trident crossed with a sword. His commanding presence left little doubt that he was an officer of high rank.
'Captain Edran….You certainly know how to look cool.'
As if on cue, the murmurs of the crowd quieted. The officer raised a hand, his voice cutting through the air with practiced authority. "Members of the expedition, hear me!"
The gathered crowd fell silent, their attention focused on the platform.
"Our mission is critical," Edran began, his tone steady and deliberate. "The monsters we face have infested the sea trading routes, threatening the lifeblood of our region's commerce and stability. This is not a simple hunt—it is a battle to secure our survival and prosperity."
Lucavion listened intently, his dark eyes gleaming faintly as he caught the subtle weight behind Edran's words.
"As you all know," Edran continued, "sea warfare is vastly different from land warfare. The terrain is unpredictable, and the battles chaotic. Fighting on shifting waters adds layers of difficulty even for the most experienced among us."
Lucavion noted the flickers of doubt in some faces, contrasted with the calm resolve in others.
"But well, that is the case for a normal place. There is a reason, we, Duchy of Thaddeus, is the strongest naval force in the entire world."
Chapter 362: The Expedition (2)
"But well, that is the case for a normal place. There is a reason, we, Duchy of Thaddeus, is the strongest naval force in the entire world."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, a mix of acknowledgment and unease. Lucavion noted the flickers of doubt in some faces, contrasted with the calm resolve in others.
"The strategy is simple," the officer said, raising his voice slightly to recapture the room. "Our mages will create stable platforms—ground, if you will—on the water itself. These constructs will serve as our battlefields, allowing our adventurers, soldiers, and knights to engage the monsters as if on land. But make no mistake—the sea is a harsh mistress. These platforms are not unshakable fortresses. They will require constant maintenance from the mages, and coordination will be key."
Lucavion's brows lifted slightly at the explanation. It was bold, creative, and dangerously ambitious.
[Turning the sea into land… How very human,] Vitaliara mused, her tone carrying a note of respect.
It's audacious, Lucavion thought, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. But it just might work.
The officer continued, his gaze scanning the crowd. "You have been selected because you are among the best in your fields. Adventurers, knights, mages, mercenaries—all of you bring something invaluable to this mission. Together, we will overcome this threat and reclaim our seas."
A chorus of cheers and raised weapons followed his words, the energy in the courtyard surging as the gathered forces rallied around the officer's conviction.
Lucavion remained silent, his smirk lingering as he observed the crowd's reaction. The plan was dangerous, but it had the hallmarks of genius—and desperation.
[You're impressed, aren't you?] Vitaliara teased, her tone knowing.
I'll admit, it's intriguing, Lucavion replied inwardly, his gaze shifting toward the mages. But the question remains—will they pull it off?
[And where do you fit in all this?]
Lucavion chuckled softly as he adjusted his coat. Right where I always do, Vitaliara.
[Which is?]
At the center of the chaos.
********
Captain Edran, now standing before the gathered crowd, surveyed them with a sharp, measured gaze. His posture exuded confidence, and his voice carried over the courtyard with unyielding authority.
"All of you," he began, his tone firm but clear, "have been assigned to specific stations as per your registration. You will report to the ships designated for your stations, where your respective captains will provide further instructions. The success of this mission depends on discipline and unity. Disperse now and proceed to your assigned areas."
As he descended from the platform, the crowd, which had been a buzzing mass of adventurers, mercenaries, mages, and soldiers, began to shift into motion. The knights of the duchy maintained order with remarkable efficiency, their presence a reminder of the iron authority the Duchy of Thaddeus wielded. Even the unruliest adventurers, known for their aggression and impulsive behavior, complied under the weight of the Duchy's reputation. None dared to provoke the power represented here.
Lucavion observed the dispersing crowd, his sharp eyes catching the subtle tension in some, the quiet confidence in others. A faint smirk curled his lips. An orchestra of chaos, held together by discipline. How quaint. He adjusted his coat and began making his way toward the fourth station's ship, his gait as measured as ever.
At the ship docked for the fourth station, the atmosphere was different. The vessel was large and imposing, its sails marked with the crest of the Duchy—a golden trident crossed with a sword. Around it, personnel were busy loading supplies, checking equipment, and coordinating tasks. The hum of preparation was steady, a stark contrast to the scattered noise of the courtyard earlier.
Lucavion approached with his usual casual demeanor, yet his presence seemed to draw attention. A few heads turned, curiosity sparking in their eyes, but none lingered long. His aura of quiet intensity was enough to deter idle chatter.
[It's impressive how organized they are,] Vitaliara remarked from her perch on his shoulder, her glowing form shimmering faintly in the sunlight.
"It's fear," Lucavion replied inwardly, his eyes scanning the bustling activity. "Fear of the sea, fear of failure, and fear of the Duchy's wrath."
[And what about you?] Vitaliara's voice carried a teasing lilt. [What do you fear?]
Lucavion smirked, his gaze narrowing as he approached the gangplank. 'I fear nothing.'
[Really?]
'Yep.'
[Hmm? Is that so?]
As Lucavion stepped onto the gangplank, the muted hum of the ship's preparations shifted subtly. Conversations dropped in volume, movements slowed, and more than a few heads turned in his direction. Their eyes trailed him—some curious, others assessing, a few openly skeptical. The air grew heavier, tension mingling with the salt and brine of the sea breeze.
Lucavion's smirk didn't falter as he met their stares, his gaze unflinching and laced with his signature mixture of amusement and calculation. Sizing me up, are we? Fair enough. He casually adjusted his coat, letting his posture exude a confidence that was neither overstated nor easily ignored.
But Lucavion wasn't one to merely accept scrutiny without returning it. His sharp eyes swept across the gathering, cataloging every detail with clinical precision. The first group he noted consisted of adventurers, their mismatched gear and hardened expressions betraying lives lived on the edge of danger. Despite their rough appearances, he sensed a practiced discipline in their stances—a readiness that hinted at battles survived and lessons learned.
Then came the mercenaries, clustered in tight-knit groups. Their leather armor and well-worn weapons bore the scars of countless skirmishes, and their eyes carried a weight that only came from seeing too much. They exchanged low words, their hands never far from their blades.
Lucavion's gaze narrowed slightly as he picked out individuals who stood apart even in this crowd. Among them were several figures whose aura was undeniable—Awakened warriors, their presence like steady flames amidst a gathering storm. Most hovered around the level of 3-star and 4-star, their power evident in the way their mana resonated, a controlled force waiting to be unleashed.
But it was the two figures who stood slightly apart, their calm demeanor and quiet confidence distinguishing them, that caught his attention. He felt their strength like a weight in the air—5-star Awakened.
'Interesting…..To be able to even command the 5-star Awakened into this place…'
One was a towering man clad in darkened plate armor, a heavy axe resting against his shoulder. The other was a lithe woman. Her twin blades glinted in the sunlight, and her sharp eyes betrayed an intelligence that matched her skill.
'These people….Hmm?'
Lucavion felt a weird sense of something, as he looked into the two.
'They are the ones from the inn, aren't they?'
[Indeed,] Vitaliara confirmed, her tone tinged with curiosity. [And it seems they've found themselves another stage. Or perhaps, this stage has found them.]
Before Lucavion could dwell further on the thought, a shift in the air signaled the arrival of new figures. The murmurs of those on the deck quieted, heads turning to the gangplank as two individuals made their entrance.
The first was a young woman, her beauty striking yet understated. Her blonde hair cascaded in soft waves to her waist, catching the sunlight like spun gold. Her piercing blue eyes swept across the deck, calm yet curious, as though taking in every detail. Despite her youth, there was a depth to her gaze, a quiet gravity that spoke of experience beyond her years.
Beside her stood a young man, tall and broad-shouldered, his stance confident and grounded. He held a sword with practiced ease, the weapon resting against his hip as though it was an extension of himself. His expression was neutral, but his eyes carried a quiet intensity that suggested he was more than capable of holding his own among the seasoned warriors gathered here.
[Your little crush is here,] Vitaliara commented dryly, her tone laced with sarcasm as her tail flicked against Lucavion's neck.
Lucavion didn't bother to hide his smirk. 'I don't have a crush.'
[Hmm.] She let out a low hum, clearly unconvinced. [Your heartbeat spiked a little. Just saying.]
Lucavion waved her off with an exaggerated air of indifference. 'It was probably the salt in the air. Very distracting.'
The woman's gaze swept over the deck, pausing briefly when it landed on Lucavion. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met, and in that instant, he felt the weight of her scrutiny. Her gaze wasn't hostile, but it was searching—assessing, as though she was peeling back layers in search of something unseen.
Lucavion held her stare with his usual ease, the faint smirk still playing on his lips. After a heartbeat, she gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod before moving her attention elsewhere. It was a small gesture, but one that carried a quiet acknowledgment, leaving an odd, lingering impression.
[She noticed you,] Vitaliara observed with a hint of amusement. [Not bad, Lucavion. Not bad.]
'You are not helping you know.'
[Heh.]
However, the man beside her didn't share her composed demeanor. As the woman's gaze moved on, his eyes remained locked on Lucavion, narrowing slightly. His stance shifted, just enough to be noticeable, and there was an edge to his expression that was difficult to mistake.
Lucavion met the man's glare with an arched brow, his smirk curving into something faintly amused. Jealousy? Or just territorial? Either way, that gaze makes me feel like gouging it out. Should I just do that?
His head was filled with intrusive thoughts.
Though of course, he didn't act upon them.
CREAK!
Just then, the captain of the 4th station made his appearance.