Vul held onto him, her arms wrapped gently around his shaking form. She didn’t squeeze too tightly—just enough to let him know she was there. Stefan, however, remained stiff. His hands stayed at his sides, unmoving, unwilling to return the embrace. But he didn’t push her away either. He just… let her.

  His breathing steadied, but the nightmares still clawed at the edges of his mind. The echoes of past screams, the scent of blood, the feel of helplessness—it lingered like a stain he could never wash away.

  Stefan exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face before glancing at the window. The moonlight spilled into the room, soft but cold, like the ghosts of the past watching from the sky. His voice, quieter now, cut through the silence.

  “Do monsters dream?” he muttered. His green eyes flickered toward Vul. “When they sleep?”

  Vul blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I… don’t know,” she admitted.

  Stefan let out a dry huff, his lips twitching with something that wasn’t quite amusement. I hope they do, he thought. I hope the Order of Midnight dreams of every life they’ve taken. I hope the screams keep them awake for the rest of their miserable existence.

  Shaking the thought away, he let out another sigh before finally, hesitantly, reaching out. He placed an awkward, almost reluctant hand on Vul’s head. A stiff pat.

  “...Thanks,” he muttered. It was dry, cold, almost begrudging—but it was still a thank you.

  Then, as if the moment never happened, he stood up and stretched, already shaking off whatever vulnerability had surfaced. “Get some sleep,” he said. “We leave early.”

  Vul nodded and climbed into her bed without another word.

  As she lay down, staring at the wooden ceiling, something unfamiliar stirred inside her. A warmth, deep in her chest—gentle, comforting. She didn’t know what to call it. She didn’t know why it was there. But she liked it.

  And with that feeling lingering inside her, she closed her eyes.

  Morning arrived, bringing with it the salty breeze of the sea and the lively bustle of the docks. By now, Stefan and Vul had already taken their baths, eaten a simple breakfast, and boarded a massive ship bound for Yro-Ei.

  The vessel was enormous, its towering masts cutting through the sky, sails billowing as the wind carried them forward. The deck teemed with people—nobles dressed in elegant travel cloaks, adventurers armed with swords and daggers, merchants keeping a close eye on their goods. Crew members moved about, shouting orders as they secured ropes and checked supplies.

  Up on the uppermost deck, Vul stood near the railings, watching the birds glide effortlessly above the waves. They flapped their wings, circling the ship before diving down toward the water, their movements precise, graceful. She leaned forward slightly, fascinated.

  Meanwhile, Stefan had been engaged in conversation with a small group of noble ladies and a few adventurers. He exchanged pleasantries, answering questions with his usual sharp wit, but when he spotted Vul by herself, he excused himself without much ceremony and made his way over.

  He came to stand beside her, his eyes briefly scanning the open sea before drifting downward—to her leather bag. The tiny black dragon inside was curled up, its head barely peeking out from the opening.

  The small black dragon was tucked safely inside her enchanted leather bag, a container capable of holding far more than its size suggested. They knew the risks: discovery would lead to dire consequences, so the dragon remained hidden.

  “You pick a name for that thing yet?” Stefan asked, nodding toward the dragon.

  Vul, still focused on the birds, took a second to register his question. She blinked and turned to him. “I’m supposed to name it?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

  Stefan raised a brow, crossing his arms. “Well, people like us always name our animal companions. Makes ‘em feel less like baggage and more like… I don’t know, partners or something,” he said with a slight shrug. “Besides, calling it ‘hey, you’ for the rest of its life is just lazy.”

  “Oh…” Vul muttered, looking down at the little dragon. Its crimson eyes blinked up at her, unbothered, its tiny claws gripping the edges of the bag.

  A sudden jolt rocked the ship, sending a ripple of unease through the deck. Passengers stumbled, gripping onto whatever they could for balance. The once lively chatter turned into hushed murmurs of confusion.

  A noblewoman clung tightly to her husband’s arm, eyes wide with panic. “Darling, what was that?” she gasped.

  Her husband, an older man with a round belly and an even rounder ego, scowled and pried her fingers off him. “It’s just a wave,” he said dismissively, clearly irritated.

  A rugged-looking adventurer standing nearby scoffed. “Waves don’t hit like that.”

  The nobleman shot him a look of disdain. “Oh, and you would know, would you?”

  “I’ve traveled far and wide,” the adventurer retorted, crossing his arms. “Been on more ships than you’ve had decent meals. That wasn’t a wave.”

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  The two men continued to bicker, their voices rising as the other passengers exchanged uneasy glances, whispering amongst themselves.

  Meanwhile, Vul wasn’t paying attention to the argument. She was focused on something else entirely. The small dragon in her bag had begun to growl, its tiny body tensed as its piercing eyes remained locked on the ocean.

  Stefan, who had been watching the exchange between the nobleman and the adventurer with mild amusement, let out a scoff. “Arguing about it won’t change whatever it was,” he muttered under his breath.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vul stepping dangerously close to the railings, her gaze fixed on the water below.

  “Oi,” Stefan called, frowning. “Get back before the next jolt sends you overboard. Angeline won’t be too happy if I return without you.”

  Vul stopped, but she didn’t look at him. Her attention remained on the ocean, her grip tightening around the railing.

  Before Stefan could say anything else, a voice suddenly called out his name—excitedly, almost breathlessly.

  He barely had time to react before a cloaked figure rushed toward him. The woman’s face was mostly hidden beneath layers of fabric, but from what little he could see, she was smiling.

  Stefan didn’t return the woman’s joyful greeting. Instead, he gave her a dry, unimpressed response. “Right. And you are…?” His tone was flat, his eyes studying her carefully. “Have we met before?”

  The woman let out a soft giggle, reaching up to pull down her hood.

  Beneath the cloak was a striking woman—white skin as smooth as porcelain, long brown hair cascading in soft waves, and eyes the color of fresh spring leaves. But what stood out the most was her attire. Instead of a dress, she wore noblemen’s clothing—a well-fitted, high-collared coat adorned with silver embroidery, a crisp white shirt beneath, and tailored trousers tucked into polished boots.

  Stefan’s eyes widened. This woman… he knew her.

  “Anna Del’I?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

  The woman nodded, a smile spreading across her lips.

  For the first time in what felt like years, Stefan’s cold exterior melted away. There was no trace of his usual guarded hostility—only raw surprise and delight.

  “I didn’t recognize you,” Stefan admitted, shaking his head. “You used to be so sickly and pale. I thought you’d snap in half if the wind hit you too hard.” A small, genuine chuckle escaped him. “But now… look at you. You look—”

  “Healthy?” Anna finished for him, though her expression had darkened slightly. “I used to be… but not anymore.”

  There was something unspoken in her voice, something hidden behind that brief shadow in her expression, but before Stefan could question it, she brightened again. “I’m finally cured.”

  Without hesitation, Stefan pulled her into a tight embrace. It was the kind of embrace shared between long-lost family members, a moment of relief and disbelief all at once. Anna hugged him just as tightly.

  “I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

  “I thought you were caught in the crossfire,” Stefan admitted.

  Anna pulled back slightly, “My mother teleported me away in time… she saved me.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry, Stefan. I’m sorry we couldn’t help the Blancs.”

  Stefan shook his head. “It wasn’t her fault,” he said firmly. “She did what she had to do.”

  Anna bit her lip, guilt still lingering in her expression, but she nodded nonetheless.

  Stefan crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. “So, why are you here?”

  Anna smiled, brushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “I heard that a Blanc survived the attack,” she said. “I’ve been looking for him.”

  A brief silence fell between them. Anna blinked, her green eyes widening as realization hit her like a bolt of lightning.

  She gasped, pointing an excited finger at Stefan. “Wait! You! You’re the Blanc I’ve been looking for!” Her face lit up with joy. “I can’t believe it—it’s you! You’re the one from the prophecy!”

  Stefan’s eye twitched, and he quickly grabbed her wrist, lowering her hand.

  Quiet down,” he muttered, glancing around. Though the deck was bustling with people, he didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing. He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “And I wouldn’t call it a prophecy,” he added dryly. “But… yes. I do plan on retrieving the Sword of White.”

  Anna clasped her hands together, her excitement undeterred. “Then let me come with you!”

  Stefan frowned. “No.”

  Anna huffed, placing a hand on her hip. “Why not?”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Stefan, just as my mother served the Blancs, in honor of her, I will do the same.” Her voice was filled with conviction. “Let me help you.”

  Stefan shook his head. “No.”

  Anna groaned, throwing her arms in the air. “You’re so stubborn!”

  “And you’re persistent.”

  As the two of them squabbled, Vul stood near the railing, her crimson eyes locked on the horizon.

  Something… was rising from the ocean.

  The small dragon in her leather bag growled.

  Then—the ship jolted.

  The wooden planks beneath their feet trembled. A murmur spread among the passengers as some grabbed onto whatever they could for balance. The waves churned violently, and the air grew tense.

  Vul tightened her grip on the railing.

  Something was coming.

  The ocean’s surface rippled, darkening like ink spreading through water. Then, with a slow, dreadful rise, something massive emerged from the depths.

  A kraken.

  Its slimy, black body glistened under the daylight, its skin marred with deep scars, as if it had fought countless battles before. Its enormous tentacles, covered in sickly pale suction cups, coiled and uncoiled, each movement sending waves crashing against the ship. The stench of salt and decay filled the air as it revealed itself further, its monstrous, beady eyes gleaming like lanterns in the mist. A deep, guttural noise rumbled from its beak-like mouth as it loomed over the ship.

  For a moment, silence.

  Then—chaos.

  Those with magic wasted no time fleeing. Some transformed into birds, their wings carrying them far from danger. Others vanished in bursts of light or shadows, teleporting away with no concern for those left behind. The rest? They scrambled to the farthest corners of the ship, screaming in terror. Some brave—or foolish—souls attempted to fight back, hurling spells or swinging their weapons at the creature, but their attacks barely left a mark on its thick, rubbery hide.

  Meanwhile, the captain, a burly man with a thick, greying beard, stormed down from his post and smacked the helmsman across the head.

  “You absolute idiot!” the captain roared. “You sailed us near the Yro-Ei boundary?! You know damn well that continent ain’t as safe as it used to be!”

  The helmsman, still gripping the wheel, winced. “But a passenger specifically requested to stop at Yro-Ei! Paid a huge sum of gold for it!”

  The captain’s face twisted in disbelief. “What kind of madman would want to go to Yro-Ei?!”

  Before the helmsman could answer, a massive tentacle launched itself toward the ship—straight for Stefan.

  Vul saw it first.

  Without hesitation, she shoved Stefan out of the way.

  The tentacle coiled around her instead.

  “VUL!” Stefan’s voice cracked as he lunged for her, grabbing onto her arm. But the kraken was stronger. Its slimy appendage tightened around her small frame and yanked her off the deck.

  Vul was dragged down.

  Stefan clenched his jaw, his grip slipping as the ocean threatened to swallow her whole.

  He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think. His eyes darted to Anna, who stood frozen at the scene.

  “Can you keep the kraken’s tentacles from wrecking the ship?!” he barked.

  Anna snapped out of it, nodding quickly. “Go rescue that girl. I’ll handle this.”

  Stefan pulled out his Igniter sword, its steel gleaming under the sun. He smirked. “Already ahead of you.”