1. The Sour Taste of Progress
The silent victory against the dock thugs had bought Kevin and Even a brief, uneasy silence on the Gold Coast. They had proven they were not soft targets. Yet, two days passed with no progress in their main objective: finding the powerful strategic mind required to dismantle the Surat Kingdom.
They were growing desperate. Even, tired of the inaction, had splintered several wooden crates out of pure frustration, and Kevin's eyes showed the strain of sleepless nights spent planning.
"We have eight million coins and two fists," Even muttered, staring gloomily at the ocean. "But every mercenary we screen is only good for an upfront kill and an immediate betrayal. We need a brilliant strategic mind, Kevin. Someone who thinks three steps ahead of Jaran himself."
"The men who think like kings are not found in this filth," Kevin replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But we must find the mind that was rejected by the Kings. Someone who uses intelligence as a weapon."
The immense guilt from the village massacre was eating away at them, making every hour wasted feel like a betrayal of Rumi and Jax. They needed a win, a sign of hope.
2. The Calculated Lead
Kevin knew seeking a genius in this place required unconventional methods. He left Even guarding the gold and went into the market, not seeking a fighter, but a rumor broker—the lowest form of informant. He found a scrawny, trembling man known as Rizz, whose only skill was collecting the dirtiest whispers for coin.
Kevin cornered Rizz in a dark alley and offered him a small, heavy gold coin—far more than Rizz usually earned in a week.
"I need the name," Kevin murmured, his voice cold. "Not the richest, not the fiercest. The one man on this entire coast who you know has the power to change things, but refuses to take gold."
Rizz's eyes widened with a mix of terror and greed as he looked at the coin and then back at Kevin. He knew the type of person Kevin was asking about—the dangerous anomaly. He pointed toward the noisy district known as the Dead Man's Square.
"The Sentinel," Rizz whispered, quickly snatching the coin. "He just sits in the lowest bar, the 'Rusty Anchor,' drunk for days, speaking in riddles. He looks pathetic, but no one touches him. They say his power comes from within. Go there, but Champion... don't bother him."
Kevin returned to Even. "We found him. The Sentinel. A master tactician who rejects gold. He is in the 'Rusty Anchor' bar. We go now."
3. The Sentinel's Verse
They chose the darkest, most crowded bar, seeking anonymity. They sat, nursing a bitter, local spirit. The air was a thick mix of tobacco smoke, cheap liquor, and the harsh, constant noise of desperation.
Then, they saw him.
A tall, powerfully built man, but completely disheveled and swaying. He wore nothing but faded, simple clothes, and his face was flushed red from excessive drinking. He looked profoundly weak, the kind of man who would pass out face-first into his own drink. This was the man Rizz had spoken of—The Sentinel.
To Kevin and Even's astonishment, Elias wasn't sitting alone. He was stumbling from table to table, his heavy tankard clutched tightly, forcefully reciting poetry at random groups of disgusted pirates.
Even scoffed, "That's your brilliant mind, Kevin? A drunken poet? He'll fall over before we can offer him a contract."
Elias stumbled near their table, oblivious to their presence, and slammed his tankard down hard enough to make the table jump. He fixed his bloodshot eyes on the wall and loudly began his recital, his voice slurred and slightly wavering:
"The gold you seek is but a weight, the true victory is found in hate.
The loyal lion, now driven out, walks a lone path, full of doubt.
His silence waits on destiny's chime, until the moment for the true crime."
The surrounding sailors and thieves roared in protest, their anger reaching a boiling point. "Enough of your riddles, Sentinel!" a massive pirate bellowed. "Get back to your corner, drunkard! You're spoiling the night!"
Elias simply smiled—a distant, melancholy expression that held no malice. He smoothly continued his verse, ignoring the angry shouts as if they were harmless background noise.
4. The Unwavering Power
A large, enraged brute, tired of the philosophical distractions, grabbed a heavy wooden stool and stormed toward Elias's table, intent on silencing him permanently.
"I said silence, lunatic!" the brute roared, lifting the stool high above his head.
Even instantly moved, but Kevin's cold grip held him back. "Hold, Even. Watch the discipline." Kevin was skeptical, but the warning from Rizz was too strong to ignore.
As the stool descended with crushing force, Elias did not move, raise his hands, or stop smiling.
At the very last moment, he merely flexed his wrist with a motion so quick it was virtually invisible. A sudden, deep thud echoed through the bar, not from the stool, but from the brute hitting the ground. The thug cried out in pain, dropping the stool and clutching his abdomen, his body momentarily paralyzed by a localized, internal force. Elias had defeated him without making any outward show of effort.
The entire bar fell into stunned silence. They had witnessed terrifying, disciplined power emerging from a seemingly ordinary, drunken man. The most astonishing part? The ale in Elias's tankard had not spilled a single drop, despite the impact and his own swaying posture.
Elias took a slow, measured sip of his drink, his eyes finally meeting Kevin's. Kevin recognized the cold efficiency of a Master Strategist who minimizes effort for maximum effect. The drunken facade was a powerful defense.
5. The Challenge of the Three
Kevin approached the table, followed by a seething, yet impressed, Even. Kevin bypassed introductions, moving straight to the truth.
"The Gold Coast recognizes your power, Sentinel," Kevin stated, his voice calm and serious. "We are the Edge and the Hook. We seek a Master Tactician to dismantle a King's army. We offer you power, wealth, and the perfect target for your vengeance."
Elias looked at Kevin and the massive Even. He did not immediately answer in prose. He placed his tankard down, his expression becoming serious and intense—a rare, startling change that demanded absolute respect, as if the alcohol had instantly left his system.
"You speak of war, and war requires certainty," Elias said, his voice now deep and commanding, stripped of all rhythm. "You have names, but skill is what lasts here. I will join you, but only if you pass my test. I will fight both of you, one after the other. A duel of skill, here and now."
Even's face lit up with a furious grin. "Finally! A real fight!"
Elias raised a hand, his eyes returning to their poetic state, the seriousness receding slightly.
"My terms are set, the stakes are dire, a gamble played with blood and fire.
If I should fall to your combined might, I swear allegiance, to stand and fight.
But should you fail, if either falls to my hand, you must first do a task that I demand."
Kevin's mind raced. This was more than a fighter; this was an interviewer setting conditions. He had to accept.
6. Hook vs. Sentinel
Even, impatient and fueled by days of suppressed fury, insisted on fighting first. He attacked like a whirlwind, the Hook slashing the air with enough brutal force to tear through stone.
Elias, however, moved like flowing water. He didn't block; he shifted. He never let the Hook connect, always staying one millimeter outside the danger zone. Even's raw strength was useless against Elias's disciplined defense.
Even roared in frustration and swung the Hook low for Elias's knees. Elias finally moved into the strike, but instead of blocking, he used a strange, focused energy. As the Hook passed near his body, Elias emitted a short, sharp burst of sound—a focused Kiai—that didn't touch Even, but shook the very air around his body.
Even stumbled, his vision blurring, his focus shattered by the strange internal vibration. Before Even could recover, Elias delivered a single, open-handed concussive strike to the side of Even's head with blinding speed.
Even, the mighty Ghost Hook, crashed to the floor, momentarily stunned and defeated. He was not injured, but the fight was over.
Elias looked down at the defeated Champion and recited a cruel, soft poem:
"The storm is loud, the ocean wide, but power without thought has nowhere to hide.
Your heart is fire, your weapon bold, but a true war, my friend, is fought in the cold."
7. The Price of Partnership
Silence settled over the bar again. Even rose slowly, his fury now mixed with grudging respect. He had lost.
Kevin stepped into the ring. He knew brute force had failed. He recognized the disciplined footwork and the strategic use of momentum—the hallmarks of a high-level military commander.
Kevin immediately threw his dagger into the ground behind Elias, forcing the Sentinel to glance back to assess the threat. In that fraction of a second, Kevin leaped forward, not to fight, but to immobilize Elias against the wall. He used his superior agility and the element of surprise, pinning Elias's arms with his own body weight, neutralizing the source of his subtle, internal force.
"You are strong, Sentinel, but not unbreakable," Kevin hissed, holding the position. "The only way to win against overwhelming power is to change the rules of the fight. Do we continue, or do we negotiate?"
Elias let out a slow, controlled breath, the first sign of exertion. He smiled, his eyes returning to serious, knowing focus.
"You found the weakness," Elias conceded, his voice clear and serious once more. "You proved the Edge is the mind, not the blade. The duel is over. The price is paid."
Elias pushed Kevin off with a sudden, controlled burst of strength. He then looked at both champions, his decision absolute.
"You proved your worth. Even though you were defeated, you earned my respect. Now, pay the price," Elias commanded. "My mission is simple: The King who betrayed my home—my true King—was murdered by his own brother. I want the usurper King dead. You will attack my former small Kingdom, eliminate the new King, and bring me proof. Do this, and I give you my mind, my strength, and my absolute loyalty against the greater enemy."
Kevin and Even looked at each other. They had lost the duel, but secured the mind they desperately needed. The detour was set. They had the first, most crucial piece of their war machine.