Chapter —
Offer of survival
The room fell silent after the man's final question. Sabre felt the air thicken around him, the weight of the man's gaze pressing against his chest like an invisible hand. His breath grew shallow, his mind racing in circles. Talent… or something far more dangerous. Even he didn't have an answer.
The man watched him quietly, then turned away and walked toward the table. He rested one hand on the map, fingers tapping lightly against the parchment as though thinking deeply. The lantern's flame flickered behind him, painting his shadow long across the wooden floor.
"You remind me," the man said slowly, "of a storm before it forms."
Sabre blinked. "Sir… what do you mean?"
The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned around fully to face Sabre again. His eyes carried a depth that felt like they could swallow entire oceans. "A normal child doesn't survive what you walked through today. A normal child doesn't remain this calm under pressure. And a normal child—" his gaze sharpened once more "—does not carry that kind of fluctuation inside their body."
Sabre felt his stomach twist. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said quietly. It wasn't a lie. Not completely.
The man's lips curved slightly, not into a smile, but into something like acceptance. "You may not know yet. But you will."
He paced slowly, hands behind his back. The floor creaked beneath his boots.
"Listen carefully, Sabre."
He paused.
"You have talent. Unrefined, raw… but frightening."
Sabre lowered his gaze, unsure how to respond.
The man continued, "I don't usually involve myself with strangers. I don't take disciples. I don't teach. My path is solitary. My standards are absolute." His voice grew heavier, carrying a pressure that made Sabre's bones tense.
Sabre looked up again.
The man stopped walking and faced him directly.
"But you…" He studied Sabre another moment. "You are worth bending those rules for."
Sabre's heart stopped for a moment. "What—?"
"I want you," the man said plainly, "to become my disciple."
The words rang in Sabre's ears like a thunderclap.
A disciple.
Of him.
Sabre swallowed hard. "Why… me?"
The man did not hesitate. "Because talent at your level is rare. And power at your level—whether you understand it or not—is even rarer. If you walk alone, you will die young. If you walk under someone unworthy to teach you, you will be ruined." He paused, gaze heavy. "But if you walk under me… you may survive what is coming."
Sabre's fingers curled tightly at his sides. His legs felt weak. A part of him wanted to accept instantly. Another part of him hesitated. Everything in his life recently had been sudden, chaotic, overwhelming.
"You don't need to answer now," the man added, reading his silence easily. "Think. Understand your position."
Sabre nodded slowly.
But the man wasn't finished.
"However," he said, turning fully toward him again, "we must address something first. Your presence here… how you boarded this ship… the risk you took… That tells me you are running from something."
Sabre stiffened.
The man's expression stayed unreadable. "A child doesn't sneak into a ship heading for the capital unless staying behind means death."
Sabre said nothing. His throat tightened.
The man sighed softly, as though he already knew. "Whatever hunts you… whatever you fear… my disciple cannot run from shadows."
Sabre lifted his head slightly, meeting the man's calm yet piercing eyes.
"Tell me, Sabre," the man said, voice dropping lower, "will you cling to fear… or will you walk forward and take control of your fate?"
The room trembled slightly as the ship hit a wave. The lantern's light wavered. Everything felt suspended—like time itself was holding its breath.
Sabre hesitated, then whispered, "What… would happen if I say no?"
The man didn't blink. "You will walk out of this room, and the world will devour you."
Sabre froze.
Harsh… but true.
"And if I say yes?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
"For now?" The man's expression softened by a fraction. "For now, you live."
Silence settled again.
Sabre looked at his own hands—hands that trembled slightly. He remembered the awakening hall. The lightning. The astral pulse. The fear in the eyes of the elders.
He remembered running.
He remembered the monster.
He remembered the man defeating it like swatting away a stubborn fly.
If anyone could teach him…
If anyone could help him understand the power inside him…
If anyone could help him survive…
It was this man.
He raised his head.
"I…" Sabre began.
But before he could finish—
A sudden loud bang echoed from outside the door.
The ship shuddered violently.
Sabre spun around. The man didn't move, but his eyes narrowed slightly.
Someone outside shouted frantically, "Something—something is approaching the ship again!"
Another monster?
Or something worse?
The lantern in the room flickered aggressively, and the floorboards trembled.
The man looked at Sabre, his voice calm but utterly serious:
"Your answer… will determine whether you live long enough to see tomorrow."