The ocean stretched endlessly behind them, but hope shimmered ahead. Sora squinted into the horizon, her soaked braid clinging to her back. Her eyes lit up.
"Look! That's land! We can get off there!" she shouted, pointing eagerly.
Before her words could settle in the air, Yamato's body tensed.
"That's where we are headed," Yamato cut in.
His eyes gleamed with a sharp thrill—not just excitement, but revelation. Something only he could feel. A massive well of energy, ancient and chaotic, surged ahead of them. Its base energy surpassed Ozaki's while fighting at full power. It wasn't just land. It was the place. The energy he had been looking for screamed at him.
"I'll be gone," Yamato said, his voice low but resolute.
Without another word, he dove into the water. Sora blinked.
"Wait, what—Yamato!"
Lumei grunted and followed. Sora dived in after both of them. The swim was swift, as the shoreline rose before them like a promise kept. Yamato reached it first. Dragging himself onto the sandy edge, he stood and looked around, then quietly removed his shoes. He loosened his feet, sinking them into the sand. He closed his eyes and let the silence embrace him.
For a moment, nothing moved. No waves. No wind. It was as if the well of energy he felt had also noticed his presence. Then, his aura reached out. Like roots from an unseen tree, his senses sprawled through the soil, brushing against every living thing. Small creatures. Hidden birds. Buried worms.
The land hummed with life, and he felt it all. But no Divine Energy. None of the forces he had grown to recognize as sacred. Only life. Pure, unfiltered life. It was as if anything that possessed Divine Energy had simply turned it off.
He opened his eyes, calm and unreadable, and slipped his shoes back on. Sora and Lumei emerged from the surf, panting and wet.
"That was fast," Lumei coughed, slapping his knees.
"You didn't even wait," Sora added, lightly punching Yamato's shoulder.
Together, they turned and gazed at their new surroundings. Tall trees framed the shoreline like towering sentinels. Tall wooden structures that looked like houses sat atop distant cliffs and mountains, peeking out like secrets. The air was warm with the scent of moss and dusk. The sun dipped low, bleeding gold across the horizon.
It wasn't night yet, but that side of the continent always saw the sun like that. They walked into the woods, with Yamato leading. They spoke softly as they moved deeper into the forest, covering ground quickly as usual. The forest was quiet. Too quiet. One might say it was because they were close to the beach, but on their homeland, even the beach trees had birds, insects, and other signs of life.
At last, they found a small grove to rest. It wasn't night yet, but Yamato decided they should leave the beach before making a fire to warm themselves. They built a fire from dry twigs and roasted what little fish they had caught during their swim. For a while, the flames spoke louder than any words.
---
Further inland, WELL-SPRING was anything but peaceful. In the center of WELL-SPRING, down the eastern hills, five people sat quietly in a dim chamber. Shadows from torchlight danced across their faces.
THE CURRENTS.
They were the highest form of control, guarding and protecting the Black Market. Feared. Untouchable. Known across the region as the Five Currents of Chaos.
They were the strongest on WELL-SPRING, above the strongest mages and adventurers on the land. They sat apart from each other, each at the corners of the room, not out of distrust, but dominance. No one bowed here. No one kneeled. This was not the time for order. Only assignments.
A low voice broke the silence.
"The Mob Cat is dead."
Toren Yashi, the composed and calculating man from VALKY Village, sat cross-legged in his corner, eyes half-lidded. He had seen the ocean disturbance earlier that day, a ripple in the tides too unnatural to be random. He had called the meeting to give warning and instructions.
Lyza Nohra leaned against the wall, ash-silver hair trailing behind her like a blade drawn in moonlight. Her smile was ghost-thin. Though she had silver-coloured hair, she wasn't a Silver Magic user.
Toren glanced at her, his voice deep, his eyes showing no remorse.
"You'll go down south. Find out who they are. And if you're killed by these guests... die killing one of their comrades. Don't call for help. It's not about your strength. It tells us how to approach the next encounter."
The command was cold, ruthless. A normal person would have trembled.
Hahahah.
Lyza laughed. It was soft, nearly inaudible.
"If I die," she whispered, "make sure the Boss doesn't think less of me."
The others remained still, letting her words settle.
Kael Renzo, a man of molten fury, stood by the firelight near the open window, arms crossed. His wild crimson-red hair looked as though it had been kissed by a volcano's breath. Born in RED-STONE Village, a village said to be the scientific pride of WELL-SPRING.
But it had its flaws. He was raised among fire-speakers and molten brawlers. But discipline never touched him. His parents, gamblers and cowards, sold him to slavers to pay their debts. Betrayal was his birthright. Rage became his inheritance. Always angry and wanting a fight, Kael erupted throughout the Black Market, causing destruction with fire wherever he went.
The people feared him. He was a menace to society. At last, they locked him away, hoping the silence would burn the wild out of him. Instead, it sharpened him. He came out focused, not calm, never calm. His chaos had simply learned how to wait, because he had met a power he could never understand.
Eira Vellin, also from RED-STONE, was Kael's opposite. Calm where Kael was hot. Silent where Kael roared. Her pale blue hair flowed softly around her face, like a ghost untouched by the world. RED-STONE called her weak. Useless. She was too calm, almost what society would call a sloth. Her parents sold her too, eager to rid themselves of shame.
But Eira held something far more dangerous than fire. Beneath her stillness was a force that the Black Market was interested in. She spoke rarely. Watched always. Her presence felt like frostbite in a furnace.
Ruvo Kain lounged across a wooden bench, chewing on a blade of dry grass, his sharp auburn hair glinting like desert bronze. Raised in the WORM DESERT, a desert said to house dangerous man-eating creatures. Ruvo had survived deadly sandstorms and worse—his own family.
His parents, smugglers and thieves, sold him like a broken tool in exchange for freedom or a pardon from execution. He never saw them again. But Ruvo didn't break. He became charm wrapped in steel. He learned to lie, smile, and vanish before anyone could hurt him again.
Every glance was a performance. Every smirk a trap. He was the desert's mirage—a beautiful lie born from pain. One treasure the Black Market wanted in its store.
Toren Yashi understood what Lyza told him. He was the brains of the Black Market. The ghost of VALKY Village, a village said to be the best in sword skill. He had once been a quiet child among forest warriors, mocked for loving books instead of blades. His family banished him at twelve, selling him to the Black Market.
But he never broke. He studied. He remembered. Every betrayal was a lesson. Now, he watched the others from his corner. Always thinking. Always three moves ahead.
And then there was Lyza Nohra. Her tale began in VALKY too, among herbs and whispers. Her father, once gentle, fell to darkness. The deals turned bad. The herbs turned dangerous. He sold her beneath the trees' silent judgment. But Lyza became a shadow among shadows. A phantom.
She wore silence like a weapon and read people like books. Her ash-silver hair gleamed like blade steel. She had learned the world forgets girls like her. So she became unforgettable.
There was one thing that was the same across all five of them. They were all sold to the Black Market.
---
Lyza rose from her seat, looking toward the open window. The sun was setting, casting a damp golden-red across the continent.
"I'll find them," she said quietly.
Toren nodded.
"And I promise the death of at least one of them."
No one answered. They all looked at her as she stood at the entrance.
"Wish me luck," Lyza said before leaving the room.
As Lyza stepped out of the chamber, the firelight flickered. The sea breeze whispered through the leaves. Chaos had started to move. And Yamato, still unaware, had just set foot on a land that was already watching him.
The Five Currents had stirred. And the tide was turning.