The beast was defeated. The ship had sustained moderate damage to the hull, but the most important thing on that fateful day was this: not a single life had been lost to the cruel monster.
Our brave heroes had succeeded.
Alvios stared wide-eyed at the spot where, just seconds ago, the chimera had been.
"Man, that was insane! How did you do that? You sent that beast straight to oblivion with a single strike!" he said, barely able to contain his excitement.
The man replied in a calm, almost casual tone:
"Oh, that? Just a redirection spell. You should worry about the wounded first."
Alvios and Viktoria knelt beside the gravely injured Nouel, trying to administer first aid. But neither of them could use Sanitas-Aetherium.
Viktoria called out to the mysterious man, her voice trembling and sad
"Can you use Sanitas? I'm afraid he won't last much longer!"
The tension kept rising.
Alvios ran into the captain's cabin, rummaging frantically through crates and drawers—until he found a roll of bandages.
With little skill but great determination, he began to wrap Nouel's wounds.
"Hang in there, you've got this! I won't let you die! Just grit your teeth and don't you dare fall asleep!"
As Alvios was halfway through the bandage, a deep voice spoke behind him:
"Son, let me handle that."
It was the ship's captain.
He had minor injuries on his arm and a gash on his head, but he was still walking upright—accompanied by a few passengers.
"I heard you need someone who can use Sanitas. Guess that makes me your man!"
The captain was a dwarf with a grey beard, dressed in a simple but well-kept robe that made him look more like a merchant than a mage.
"You've wrapped that like a drunk troll," he grumbled. But as he removed the bandage, he froze.
Nouel's chest was open, blood flowing endlessly, bones faintly visible.
"Sanitas Rehabilitare!"
A bright green Aether circle appeared beneath Nouel, glowing runes flickering across his skin.
In an instant, the wound closed—the blood vanished, the skin smoothed over as if nothing had happened.
Slowly, Nouel opened his eyes.
He blinked, searching the sky, now clear and blue once more.
In front of him stood Alvios, Viktoria, the dwarf, and the other passengers—all staring in disbelief.
"Alvios… Viktoria… where's the chimera?" Nouel asked weakly.
But before he could say more, cheers erupted.
"Nouel! You're alive!" Viktoria cried, tears streaming down her face.
"Man, I really thought we'd lost you!" Alvios added with a relieved laugh.
The passengers surrounded him, thanking him one by one.
"Thank you, child! Without you, we wouldn't be here!" said an elderly woman, while a middle-aged man added:
"Because of you, I'll see my wife and daughter again."
Nouel lowered his gaze.
"I… didn't even defeat it. So why… why are you thanking me?"
His voice trembled with exhaustion and guilt.
But the captain placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Even if you weren't the one who killed the monster—you were the first to face it.
You risked your life to protect us all. For that, we thank you.
By my honor as a dwarf—you four will always have a favor with me."
He paused, glancing around.
"…Though, where's your mysterious friend?"
Everyone looked around—but the man was gone.
"What? He was just here!" Alvios exclaimed in surprise.
High above, on the mast of the Emerald Wind, the stranger sat silently, hood drawn low.
He watched the open sea as though it belonged to him alone.
A faint smile crossed his lips as the wind tugged at his cloak.
Then he turned—and vanished.
The rest of the voyage was spent tending to the wounded and stabilizing the ship.
They remained on guard for more threats, but the sea stayed calm.
After fourteen long hours, the silhouette of a harbor finally appeared on the horizon.
The air was fresh, gulls circled overhead, and voices echoed across the water.
At last—it was time.
"My prince, we made it!" Viktoria cried, unable to contain her joy.
Before Alvios could react, she jumped on his back with a laugh.
He didn't mind at all—in fact, he couldn't help grinning.
"Yes! New world, here we come!" he shouted triumphantly.
As they walked down the gangplank, Nouel was quieter.
He followed them with his head lowered. Pride ached in his chest—another had claimed the victory, though he was grateful to be alive.
The dwarf captain, meanwhile, stood at the edge of the harbor, speaking with a broad-shouldered orc—his ship's inspector.
"In twenty years of sailing, I've never seen anything like it," he muttered.
"These waters were supposed to be calm. Why in the world would a chimera attack us?"
The orc frowned, sweat beading on his forehead.
"A… chimera? That's impossible…"
"Maybe," grumbled the captain, "but something big is happening. We need to report this to the Adventurer's Guild immediately."
Meanwhile, Alvios, Viktoria, and Nouel stood before a tavern.
"Well," Alvios said with a wide grin, "let's grab a drink—to our first battle!"
Inside, they were met with a surprising sight:
The tavern was enormous. A stage where dancing and singing filled the air, laughter all around—merchants, adventurers, mercenaries.
Shady figures, yes, but the atmosphere was alive and warm.
At a distant table, half in shadow, sat the mysterious man.
A glass of Zwihersaft—ordinary milk—in his hand, his gaze calm and steady on the group.
But no one noticed him.
The three heroes sat down at a table.
"Ever been to a place like this?" Alvios asked, eyes sparkling. "It's nothing like back home!"
Nouel, still slightly frustrated, muttered, "Yeah… this place has its charm."
Viktoria smiled. "Nouel, don't be such a downer. We're alive, we beat the monster, and we're in a place bursting with life!"
"We weren't the ones who beat it!" he burst out. "Will you get that through your heads?!"
At that moment, a waitress approached the table—a young woman with long golden hair and a smile that could stop any conversation.
"Good evening, gentlemen—and lady. What can I get for you?"
Nouel fell silent immediately, frozen in place.
Alvios saved the moment with charm.
"Good day, young lady. Might we ask for your recommendation?"
She giggled softly. "Oh, you must be new here. Here's our menu."
Alvios ordered a beer, Viktoria chose a Panaruwi—a grapefruit juice with ice—and Nouel went with an Aquiris, pure spring water.
"Water?" Alvios said incredulously.
"I need a clear head," Nouel replied curtly.
When the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses together—to the beginning of their long journey.
"My prince," teased Viktoria, "how's your beer?"
"Bitter… but refreshing," he grinned. "Want a sip?"
She took a sip—and instantly grimaced. "Ugh! No thanks!"
Alvios laughed, and even Nouel couldn't help but smile.
"Say, Nouel," Alvios began with a mischievous glint, "why'd you turn so red earlier? Don't tell me—you've fallen in love?"
"One more word," Nouel growled, "and you're paying the whole bill."
Alvios went quiet—but still grinned.
They ate roasted boar—expensive, but delicious.
Then Alvios noticed a board of wanted posters—and beside it, a young man in a white coat with golden surrounded black symbols.
His red hair gleamed like fire, and at his waist hung an elegant sword—unusual in this land, its blade as slender as a rapier. He looked like he was searching for someone.
In the distance, they saw the mysterious man leave the tavern.
Alvios made to stand, but Nouel held him back.
"Not so fast—you still have to pay, you blockhead."
Alvios sighed.
"Fine… later, then."
He didn't know that this was only the beginning—
and that their fates had already begun to intertwine.