Orgus

The Big Bowl has three sections: the top section, reserved for royals, nobles, and high-ranking officials; the third section, where necessary resources are stored and where ship aids live; and the middle section, preserved for those who don't meet the requirements for the top or bottom section.

"I believe everyone should be settled by now." The gruff, slightly echoing voice came through the speakers installed throughout the ship's rooms and walkways. "I'm Nur, the captain of this ship."

The Captain's announcement went on to explain the ship's rules and regulations: no physical fighting onboard, scheduled dining times, and so on. "In three days or less, we'll arrive at the starting point of The Deep's sea. From there, each team will receive a vessel to make their way to the capital. I hope you enjoy your journey here and beyond." Afterward, the speaker went silent.

The first two days passed with little commotion. On the first day of the voyage, the teams mostly kept to themselves, adjusting to the environment and quietly assessing the other teams for potential allies and threats. On the second day, teams began to share information and form alliances based on their gathered insights.

"There, there," Ryan said, lightly tapping Eric on the back.

The young hunter, green with seasickness, was vomiting profusely. "It's strange that you do fine in a shaky carriage but turn green on a stable ship," Ryan teased.

"You don't understand," Eric replied, wiping his mouth before another round. "The way I sense things is different from others."

Footsteps approached, followed by a mocking, familiar voice. "That's a nice look you've got there," it said.

"Wasn't expecting you to find me on your own, Ciare," Ryan replied, turning around. "You ran off without keeping your side of the bargain. What do you want now?"

"Ran?" Ciare scoffed. "If that's what you believe, I'll be taking my leave." She began to turn away but paused. "Even though I now have what you want."

Ciare froze mid-step as Ryan appeared before her. His body glowed with a grey aura, his face darkened with rage, and his outstretched finger nearly touched her neck. "Take me to him," he demanded in a terrifying tone.

Ciare broke into a cold sweat, her heart racing. She had always known Ryan kept his anger in check, but she hadn't expected it to be so frightening when unleashed.

"I wouldn't cause a ruckus here if I were you," said an incognito Red, resting against the wall nearby.

Ryan's mind flashed back to the disaster two years ago that had destroyed his home. The red-haired man's voice—Pathetic—echoed clearly, matching the speaker beside him. The area seemed to darken, the sea grew more turbulent, and the air felt heavy as Ryan's rage intensified, suffocating those nearby. Only Red, smirking with amusement, seemed unfazed. And then, in an instant, Ryan's anger vanished.

Ryan took a deep breath and became as calm as the clouds. "Since you've come to me, I assume you want something from me," he said, cool and composed.

Red and Ciare exchanged glances, both equally stunned. Their shared thought: How did he contain that anger so quickly?

"The intensity wasn't quite what it was back then, but impressive nonetheless. I'd provoke him more if I weren't on a mission," Red thought. "Barol Gurahan. I'll give you some information on him if you hear us out," he said.

"Hey, what's going on here?" a passing guard asked, sensing the tension.

"We were just leaving," Red replied before turning back to Ryan. "When you've made up your mind, come to room 346."

Red and Ciare walked away, with the guard following after a moment, satisfied that there was no issue. Ryan, brought back to reality by Eric's groaning, thought to himself, "Why am I even thinking about it?"

He picked up Eric, carried him to his room, and laid him gently on the bed, locking the door behind him as he left. He walked down the passage, stopping at the door marked 346, and knocked.

"Come in," Ciare's voice called from within.

Ryan took a breath and opened the door.

The room held Red, Ciare, and Mellios. Ryan closed the door behind him and focused on Red, who had removed his disguise. "What do you want?" Ryan asked.

"We wish to form an alliance with you," Mellios replied, drawing Ryan's attention. "I hear you aren't exactly on good terms with your client. How do you plan to resist them when the time comes?"

Mellios stood and extended his hand to Ryan. "You won't regret it if you work with us."

"And what's in it for you?" Ryan asked, ignoring Mellios's hand.

Mellios pocketed his hand. "We're after the Eye of Zelja too. We need as many allies as we can gather if we're going to take on the royals and nobles. Who gets it in the end can be settled later."

Ryan was considering Mellios's words when a voice came over the speakers.

"Attention all onboard!" This voice wasn't Captain Nur's. "We have an emergency. Please stay in your rooms and lock your doors. The captain has been murdered!"

"Murdered? That's impossible," Red exclaimed.

"Wasn't the captain a first-stage Weaver?" Ryan muttered.

"There's supposed to be no one above the second stage on board," Mellios reasoned. "Even if there were, for them to kill him without a ruckus would mean they're far above the first stage."

A follow-up announcement came. "I repeat: stay in your rooms! We..."

The speaker cut out as the ship suddenly shook, throwing everyone to the floor. Moments later, they were forced down by gravity as if the ship had been lifted from the water.

Red and Ryan regained their balance and rushed out. Their eyes widened at the sight—a colossal sea monster, several times the size of the Big Bowl, held the ship aloft with its tentacles, emitting a shriek that nearly burst their eardrums.

Red and Ryan clutched their ears as they tried to recover, but the beast wasn't done. It sucked in a glowing blue wind, forming a massive orb of Est in its mouth.

"Oh no," everyone thought, watching in horror. The monster released the orb, which struck the Big Bowl with a force that shattered it and sent debris flying miles away.

With its task complete, the sea monster retreated into the depths, leaving the surviving, separated passengers to fend for themselves.

Red surfaced with an unconscious Ryan, gasping for air. They had been near the epicenter of the attack, and while Red had leaped from the ship to dodge, Ryan had taken a direct hit while trying to get back on board.

"Idiot!" Red cursed. "This is what happens when you don't put yourself first. You're lucky I saw you fall." He found a floating piece of the wreckage, hoisting Ryan and Gillarn onto it before climbing up himself.

Finally able to breathe, Red felt an itch in his stomach—he'd been stabbed by a metal shard from the ship. "Damn!" he growled, pulling the shard out and pressing on the wound to stop the bleeding. "This is going to be tougher than I thought."

Several hours passed, and Red and Ryan were adrift in the middle of nowhere, under the scorching sun. Red lay opposite Ryan, shielding his face with his hand from the relentless heat. "This guy's still out cold. Must've been hit hard," he muttered.

Red snapped to attention, feeling a change in the water. Scanning around, he spotted shark-like fins cutting through the surface, approaching them quickly. He gripped Gillarn, ready to engage.

The fins circled their makeshift raft, and Red counted six. The fins stopped moving, and one revealed itself as a half-man, half-shark. "Surrender to us if you wish to live," it spoke, its voice coarse.

Red wasn't fazed—he had just survived an attack from an oversized octopus. "Mind if I ask something?" He pointed toward the horizon. "Did you come from that way?"

The shark-man looked in the direction Red indicated. "Yes. Why?"

Red smirked. "Guess we're lucky, village kid," he thought. He dropped his sword. "I surrender."

Red and Ryan were tied up, and Gillarn was confiscated. The shark people, who called themselves Piscmen, drove the raft with incredible speed. Through conversation, Red learned that the sea monster was their god, Dagal, and they called their home Lantis.

Half a day later, they arrived at Lantis, where a golden tower stood at its center. As Red had suspected, this was their destination: the lost capital of Qartarnia, Arth.

The crabs at the shore of Lantis scattered as a raft approached. "We finally made it to land after three days," Prince Owen exclaimed as he stepped from the raft onto the shore. Lucas, Ale, and two others followed closely behind, with Mellios and Basara, one of Mellios's companions, tied up behind them.

The third prince's crew had managed to avoid the attack entirely, thanks to a protective relic he carried. They had found Ale, along with Mellios and Basara, drifting atop the sea and rescued them. Although Mellios claimed to be harmless, Prince Owen ordered them tied up, given their affiliation with the underworld.

"I wonder if the rest made it," Ale murmured, her worries slipping out unconsciously.

"Your boss should be alright, and if he is, so will the scout be. As for the quiet kid and Chrome, you can only hope," Lucas replied, doing his best to console her.

"It's best to assume they're dead. You should be glad you survived such an attack, and worry more about how we'll get back now that the Big Bowl is gone," Owen said coldly.

"I disagree with His Highness on that. The probability of them being alive is actually quite high," Mellios interjected.

Owen turned to look at him, his brow twitching. "Are you suggesting that someone as insignificant as you can see what I can't?" he sneered.

"It wasn't pure luck that we survived," Mellios said, looking down at his hand as if recalling a scene. "I can distinctly remember being torn apart by the creature." A vision of himself, shredded to nothing, flashed in his mind. "But when I woke up, I was whole again, on your raft."

Unmoved, Owen replied, "Are you referring to that blessing? It's only a rumor; there's no proof of its power. You were likely just hallucinating."

"Except I don't believe I was. I survived that massive attack without a scratch—not even on my clothes," Mellios responded, his conviction unshaken.

This seemed to make Owen pause, the pieces slowly falling into place.

"Then, doesn't that mean the Big Bowl could have been restored, too?" asked Desir, the one holding onto Mellios.

"That's ridiculous. If it were true, why didn't we see it?" Jene, holding onto Basara, countered.

"It's possible it just needs more time to recover, considering its size," Mellios reasoned.

Lucas moved closer to Owen. "What he's saying makes sense. If it's true, then we can focus on the excavation without any further worry," he said.

Owen scowled. "It would have been better if they all died," he muttered, though it was just loud enough for Lucas to hear.

"Thank you," Ale said to Mellios, her face brightening.

Mellios flushed. "I only stated the obvious. There's nothing to thank me for. And it doesn't mean your friends are alive."

"Still, I would have continued to worry if you hadn't said anything. I feel more certain they're alright, thanks to you." She smiled, and Mellios turned away, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Seems you can't take a compliment from a lady," Desir teased.

Basara laughed heartily. "I thought you'd grown up when you ignored all the Madam's flattery. But you're still the same as ever."

"Idiot," Mellios muttered through gritted teeth. "You can't compare hollow flattery to an innocent compliment," he thought.

Owen scoffed. "The sun is setting. Let's find a good spot to camp. Tomorrow, we'll search for survivors. If they really are alive, then we need to gather allies as quickly as possible."

They continued walking, moving away from the shore and into the unknown.

Ryan's tear-stained eyes snapped open, and he groaned as he struggled to sit up, his body aching all over.

"You're finally awake. Bad dream?" Red asked from the cell beside him. "One more day, and you'd have been fish food."

Ryan's face was clouded with confusion. "Where... What..." he mumbled. Suddenly, the last thing he remembered flashed through his mind. "Eric, Ale, Daniel—what happened to them?" he asked urgently, recalling the monster's attack.

"Who knows? If they're alive, they're probably in a better situation than we are," Red replied, arms crossed.

Ryan looked around, trying to assess his surroundings. "Where are we?"

"We're in an underground prison of Lantis—a city of fish men. Or, as we know it, Arth, the lost capital of Qartarnia," Red explained.

Red stood up and walked to the side of his cell. "Hey, Fish Brain," he called out to the prisoner in the cell across from them. "Add this guy to that beautiful plan of yours. We're breaking out tomorrow."

The inmate was a huge Piscman with black and white patterns and large scars all over his body. His massive, sharp canines looked like they could bite through iron, and three golden rings with unique markings hung apart on his dorsal fin.

"Hey, I'm Orgus," the Piscman spoke, his voice as rugged as his appearance. "Nice to meet ya."