The massive academy vessel slowly departed from the harbor.
Enormous enchanted sails unfurled overhead.
Silver runes ignited across the ship's hull.
The sea itself seemed to part before the vessel as ancient formations awakened beneath the deck.
The harbor gradually grew smaller.
The coastal city slowly receded into the distance.
Ahead—
Only endless blue waters remained.
The sea stretched toward the horizon like an ancient mirror reflecting the heavens.
Gentle waves rolled beneath the ship.
Seabirds circled overhead.
The wind carried the scent of salt and distant rain.
Kel stood quietly at the upper deck railing.
His dark cloak fluttered softly behind him.
From this height he could see nearly the entire ship.
Hundreds of future students occupied the lower decks.
Some introduced themselves.
Some debated academy rumors.
Some discussed combat techniques.
And unfortunately—
Some continued discussing the Divine Spoon Art.
Kel had reached a state beyond irritation.
A strange emotional numbness.
Acceptance.
Perhaps this was how people felt after fighting a war they knew they could never win.
Beside him—
The captain leaned against the ship's wheel.
One hand resting casually on polished wood.
His weathered face stared toward the sea.
Yet occasionally his gaze shifted toward Kel.
The young man intrigued him.
Most students arriving at Aetherial Institute were nervous.
Excited.
Anxious.
Arrogant.
Curious.
This one simply watched the ocean.
Like an old traveler returning home.
Eventually the captain spoke.
"So, young man."
Kel glanced toward him.
The captain smiled slightly.
"What were you doing before deciding to enter an academy?"
The sea breeze passed between them.
For a few moments—
Only waves answered.
Then Kel replied.
"My name is Aedon Flinth."
The captain nodded.
"Aedon."
Kel's gaze remained on the horizon.
"I was an explorer."
The answer immediately interested the captain.
"Explorer?"
"Yes."
The older man raised an eyebrow.
"That's uncommon."
Most academy applicants came from schools.
Noble tutors.
Military programs.
Mage associations.
Few spent years wandering unexplored regions before deciding to study.
Kel nodded slightly.
"I explored several regions."
"Interesting."
The captain folded his arms.
Then asked another question.
"So why join Aetherial Institute now?"
Kel became quiet.
The answer appeared almost amusing.
Because it was true.
"I didn't originally plan to."
The captain blinked.
"You didn't?"
"No."
Kel looked toward the sea.
Sunlight reflected within his silver eyes.
"I intended to continue exploring."
The captain appeared surprised.
Then curious.
"What changed?"
Kel answered simply.
"Nameless."
The captain immediately froze.
"...Nameless?"
"Yes."
The captain stared.
Then looked toward the lower deck.
Then back toward Kel.
Then toward the lower deck again.
As if ensuring reality remained stable.
The older man slowly rubbed his beard.
"By Nameless..."
He pointed carefully.
"You mean the creator of the Divine Spoon Art?"
Kel almost sighed.
The title alone felt painful.
"Yes."
The captain immediately became interested.
Far more interested than before.
"Aedon."
His tone became serious.
"You know Nameless personally?"
Kel nodded.
"I worked with him during several expeditions."
Silence followed.
Then the captain looked genuinely impressed.
"Well."
"That's unexpected."
Inside Kel's mind—
Seiren immediately appeared.
"This should be entertaining."
"No."
"Yes."
The Guardian sounded delighted.
Far away within Scarder Lake, waves gently crashed against ancient shores.
Meanwhile—
The captain's curiosity only increased.
"Tell me something."
Kel already knew where this was heading.
Unfortunately.
Escape was impossible.
The captain pointed toward the lower decks.
"Are the stories true?"
Kel stared at the sea.
"What stories?"
The captain laughed.
"All of them."
"..."
That narrowed absolutely nothing.
Eventually Kel replied.
"Most are wrong."
The captain immediately nodded.
Reasonable.
Then asked:
"The Divine Spoon Art?"
Kel closed his eyes briefly.
Then answered.
"It isn't called that."
The captain blinked.
"What?"
"Nameless never named it."
Silence.
The captain frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Kel turned slightly.
Looking at the older man directly.
"The name was created by other people."
The captain looked shocked.
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"Then what did he call it?"
Kel thought carefully.
Then answered honestly.
"Throwing."
The captain froze.
"...Throwing?"
"Yes."
The older man stared.
Then stared harder.
Then finally laughed.
A loud laugh.
A genuine laugh.
The kind that echoed across the deck.
Several sailors turned their heads.
Confused.
The captain eventually recovered.
Then wiped tears from his eyes.
"You're telling me..."
He pointed dramatically.
"The legendary Divine Spoon Art..."
"Was originally called throwing?"
"Yes."
The captain immediately laughed again.
Even Kel found the situation slightly amusing.
Because technically—
It was true.
The reality sounded absurd precisely because it was real.
Eventually the captain calmed down.
Then asked another question.
"What about the stories?"
Kel answered immediately.
"Most are exaggerated."
The captain nodded.
Expected.
Then Kel continued.
"Some are completely fabricated."
"Many contradict each other."
"Several make no sense."
The captain looked thoughtful.
Reasonable assessment.
Then Kel added:
"Nameless was extremely irritated by all of it."
The captain blinked.
"He was?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Kel looked toward the sea.
Then answered.
"Because people kept changing everything."
The older man slowly nodded.
Actually.
That sounded understandable.
Then Kel continued.
"He eventually stopped using the technique."
The captain frowned.
"Really?"
"Mostly."
That answer genuinely surprised him.
The older man crossed his arms.
"Because of the rumors?"
"Partly."
The captain laughed.
"Poor man."
Inside his mind—
Seiren nearly choked.
"Poor you."
Kel ignored her.
Again.
A habit becoming increasingly useful.
The captain thought for a moment.
Then asked the most important question.
"So."
"Does he actually use spoons?"
Kel immediately answered.
"No."
The captain blinked.
"...No?"
"No."
Silence.
The older man stared.
Then pointed dramatically toward the lower deck.
"Then why does everyone keep talking about spoons?"
Kel answered instantly.
"Because people are strange."
The captain nodded.
Perfect answer.
Completely reasonable.
Then Kel continued.
"Nameless can use almost any object."
"A spoon."
"A coin."
"A hairpin."
"A pebble."
"A fork."
The captain's expression gradually changed.
From amusement.
To understanding.
To horror.
"Oh."
Kel nodded.
"Exactly."
The captain suddenly understood why the technique fascinated people.
Because it wasn't about spoons.
It was about weaponizing anything.
The implications felt terrifying.
Then Kel added something else.
"Normally he preferred harmless objects."
The captain looked confused.
"Harmless?"
Kel nodded.
"Needles."
Silence.
The sea breeze passed.
The ship continued sailing.
The captain stared.
"Needles."
"Yes."
"Needles."
"Yes."
The captain rubbed his forehead.
"I don't know whether you're joking."
"I am not."
The older man looked toward the horizon.
As if seeking guidance from the ocean itself.
None arrived.
Eventually he accepted reality.
Reluctantly.
Then another question appeared.
"What about serious combat?"
Kel answered immediately.
"Spear."
The captain looked interested.
"A spear?"
"Yes."
Kel nodded.
"When facing dangerous monsters."
"When fighting seriously."
"When unnecessary complications become undesirable."
"He prefers a spear."
The captain slowly nodded.
That actually made sense.
Far more sense than spoons.
Or needles.
Or whatever else explorers apparently used nowadays.
Several moments passed.
Only waves filled the silence.
Then the captain spoke again.
This time more quietly.
"How do you know so much?"
The question lingered.
Simple.
Direct.
The sea stretched endlessly around them.
The ship continued moving toward the academy island.
Kel remained silent briefly.
Then answered.
"I worked with him."
The captain listened.
"He was my guild master during several expeditions."
Partially true.
Which made the lie far easier.
The captain nodded slowly.
Understanding.
Respect appearing within his gaze.
Explorers respected competence.
Anyone who could work beside someone like Nameless likely possessed considerable ability themselves.
The older man leaned against the railing.
Then laughed softly.
"You know."
"What?"
The captain smiled.
"After hearing you talk."
Kel looked toward him.
The captain continued.
"For the first time."
"I feel sorry for Nameless."
Silence.
Then Kel nodded.
"Reasonable."
Inside his mind—
Seiren exploded into laughter.
The captain joined her moments later.
And somewhere below deck—
Another student loudly claimed Nameless once defeated a sea serpent using a spoon carved from dragon bone.
Kel looked toward the ocean.
The ocean looked back.
Neither knew how things had reached this point.
Yet somehow—
The legend continued growing.
Far beyond the control of the man who accidentally created it.
While ahead.
Beyond the horizon.
The island of Aetherial Institute slowly waited.
And with it—
The beginning of a new chapter in Aedon Flinth's life.