The marine ship finally arrived at the hunting grounds of Beastmarrow Island, where the vast expanse of forest and mountains loomed ahead like an untamed frontier. The marksmen, along with the marines, began to disembark, their movements disciplined and orderly as they formed into organized ranks. It wasn't just a gathering of hunters—it was a coordinated mission, with each step echoing the purpose of those who understood the risks ahead.
Three admirals led this operation, each a force to be reckoned with, but at the helm of today's mission stood Lucina, the chosen guide for the expedition. She walked with a commanding presence, exuding an aura of authority and charisma that drew everyone's attention the moment she stepped forward.
Lucina was a striking figure, her long, vivid blue hair cascading down her back like a flowing river, catching the light of the sun and reflecting its brilliance. Her piercing blue eyes shimmered with an intense confidence, each glance carrying an unspoken challenge, daring others to rise to her level. A mischievous smile often played on her lips, revealing a single sharp fang that added an air of unpredictability to her otherwise refined demeanor. It was the kind of smile that hinted at both playful teasing and formidable strength—a balance that made her both admired and slightly feared by those under her command.
In her hands, she wielded her power with elegant precision. Streams of glowing water danced around her fingers, twisting and swirling in mesmerizing patterns as though alive, reflecting her mastery over the element. The water responded to her slightest movements, flowing with both grace and purpose, a symbol of her unwavering control and adaptability.
Her attire further emphasized her rank and prowess. Lucina wore a sleek white and blue outfit adorned with gold accents that shimmered subtly in the light. The design was both practical and regal, tailored for battle while showcasing her authority. Dark gloves covered her hands, contrasting sharply with the brightness of her uniform, hinting at the strength that lay beneath her elegance. Every detail of her appearance—from her sharp, confident stance to the way she carried herself—spoke of someone who had earned her place at the forefront of the mission.
Lucina stood poised at the forefront of the gathered marine officers and marksmen, her piercing blue eyes sweeping across the crowd like a blade. The murmurs of the assembled faded as her presence alone commanded silence. At the far edge of the crowd, Jinzo lingered in the shadows, his sharp gaze locked on her every move, though he made no effort to join the others.
With deliberate grace, Lucina stepped forward, her long, vivid blue hair rippling in the breeze like a flowing tide. The golden accents of her uniform gleamed in the sunlight, her every movement exuding control and purpose. When she finally spoke, her voice cut through the tension with a confident authority that held everyone's attention.
"Look at you all—officers and marksmen, each one eager to prove their mettle. You've answered the call to rid these lands of their vile creatures, to carve out a safe haven for the marines and bring order to chaos. But let me make one thing abundantly clear: this mission is no mere hunt. It is a crucible, a trial by fire where only the sharpest and strongest will survive.
"For those who do not know me, I am Lucina—your guide, your commander, and, for some of you, perhaps the last authority you'll answer to. Like you, I earned my place as a marksman through grit, skill, and resolve. But the higher administration saw fit to elevate me because I understand what it takes to thrive where others fail. I see potential here today, but I also see hesitation, uncertainty. By the end of this mission, there will be no room for doubt in any of you—or you won't be standing at all."
She paused, her gaze locking onto several faces in the crowd, her smile sharp as the edge of a blade.
"Our task is simple in its design but perilous in execution. These lands are crawling with beasts—feral, ruthless, and unrelenting. They are the guardians of this untamed territory, and it is our job to remove them. This isn't just about extermination. It's about dominance. These creatures stand in the way of marine progress, and it falls to you to clear the path. But know this: every shot you take, every step you advance, will test the very core of who you are as marksmen."
Her voice grew harder, sharper, like waves crashing against jagged rocks.
"Those who cannot endure, who falter and fall, will not earn glory. You will not rise through the ranks or secure a promotion. Instead, you will be dismissed, cast aside as unworthy of the marine name. And for those of you who find yourselves bleeding out in the dirt, remember: it was your choice to stand here today. You chose to step into the jaws of danger, and now you must accept the cost.
"There is no turning back. This is not a training exercise or a game. This is war—a test of your marksmanship, your courage, and your will to survive. If you are not prepared to give everything you have, then you have no business standing among us."
Lucina's voice softened, taking on a chillingly serene tone as she delivered her final words.
"So prove yourselves. Prove that you have what it takes to call yourselves marines. Prove that you deserve the title of marksman. Out here, there is no safety net. There is only your skill, your gun, and your resolve. Now, let's see who among you has the strength to rise and who will be swallowed by the storm. Understood?"
Her words lingered in the air, heavy and unyielding. The crowd stood frozen for a moment, as if the gravity of her speech needed time to fully settle. Then, as one, they nodded or saluted, the fire of determination igniting in their eyes. Lucina allowed a sly smile to curve her lips, her sharp fang glinting briefly in the sunlight. The hunt was about to begin.
Nathaniel and Laziel swallowed their unease, the weight of Lucina's commanding presence still lingering heavily on their minds. Laziel fidgeted nervously, his voice barely above a whisper. "She sounds terrifying..." His words carried a mix of awe and fear.
Nathaniel, though equally unsettled, forced himself to maintain a calm demeanor, his face stoic as he responded. "She's an admiral. It comes with the territory."
Jericho, standing behind the two boys, let out a hearty laugh, his arms relaxed behind his back. "Don't let her scare you too much, boys. Lucina's bark is worse than her bite. Sure, she's intense, but she's also fair. She expects excellence, but she rewards it too."
As Jericho's gaze drifted across the assembled crowd, he caught sight of a young marine standing close to Lucina—a boy with curly white hair and piercing blue eyes who exuded an air of quiet authority. Nathaniel followed his line of sight and frowned curiously. "What about that kid? Why is he standing so close to her?"
Jericho smirked knowingly, leaning closer to the boys as though sharing a secret. "Ah, that's Elian. You'd best remember his name. He's no ordinary marine; he's in training to become an admiral himself. That boy's something else entirely—on a whole different level from the rest of us."
Laziel raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "What makes him so special?"
Jericho crossed his arms, his tone turning serious. "Let me put it this way: Elian once took down an entire pirate crew single-handedly. Not just some small-time scallywags, mind you—a full crew of seasoned raiders. The marines were so impressed by his strength and tactics that he gained their respect overnight. He's been rising through the ranks ever since, faster than anyone I've ever seen. The officials trust him, and they're grooming him for greatness."
Nathaniel's gaze lingered on Elian, his mind racing as he tried to reconcile the boy's calm, almost gentle appearance with the fearsome reputation Jericho described. "So... he's dangerous?"
Jericho nodded firmly, his eyes narrowing. "Dangerous doesn't even begin to cover it. Don't let his quiet demeanor fool you. That kid's a prodigy, a real force of nature. He's a threat to anyone foolish enough to stand in his way—and that includes the beasts we're here to hunt. Right now, he's been assigned to every critical mission by the chief himself. It's part of his training, and believe me, he's living up to the challenge."
Laziel and Nathaniel exchanged uneasy glances, their nervousness deepening at the thought of someone so young and composed being so lethal. Still, there was a glimmer of fascination in their eyes. Elian represented what they aspired to be—skilled, respected, and unwavering.
Jericho clapped them both on the shoulders, breaking the tension with a chuckle. "Don't get too worked up over him, though. Just focus on the mission at hand. There's plenty of glory to go around, boys. And who knows? Maybe one day, you'll be standing where he is."
Nathaniel's eyes locked with Elian's for a brief moment, and in that instant, a strange sensation washed over him. It wasn't fear, exactly, but an unsettling awareness—a sense that this boy, so calm and composed, carried a power that was impossible to ignore. It was like staring into the eye of a storm, silent but brimming with untapped energy.
Jericho's voice broke through Nathaniel's thoughts. "That kid you're sizing up? He's Elian Ning, the youngest scion of the Ning family. Their bloodline is one of the most renowned to ever come from Crimson Lotus Island. That's where he was born, and it's where his legacy began."
Nathaniel tilted his head, intrigued. "Crimson Lotus Island? Never heard of it."
Jericho chuckled, crossing his arms. "Not surprising. It's a secluded place, known mostly to marines and scholars. The Ning family has deep roots there. Generations of warriors, thinkers, and strategists—some of the best to ever walk the Vast Expanse. Elian's the youngest of his family, but don't let that fool you. He grew up with a house full of brothers and sisters, all trained in combat and discipline. That environment honed him into the prodigy you see now."
Nathaniel glanced back at Elian, his curiosity deepening. "So, he's got natural talent?"
Jericho smirked and shook his head. "Natural talent doesn't even begin to cover it. For his age, his abilities are beyond anything you'd expect. The things he can do, it's like he's been trained for decades. And here's the kicker—he doesn't rely on firearms or blades like the rest of us. His weapon? Himself."
Nathaniel furrowed his brow. "No weapons? Then how does he fight?"
Jericho leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Martial arts. Pure skill, strength, and precision. The kind of training he's been through isn't something you can replicate easily. His body is a weapon, and he's mastered it to a level most people could never hope to achieve. Every strike, every move—it's calculated, deliberate, and devastating."
Nathaniel stared at Elian again, a mix of admiration and apprehension bubbling within him. "So… you're saying there's not much I can learn from him?"
Jericho shrugged with a grin. "Not in the traditional sense, maybe. He's not going to teach you how to aim a pistol or wield a blade, that's for sure. But if you pay attention, you might pick up something far more valuable—how to think, how to read a fight, how to anticipate your opponent's next move. Elian doesn't just fight with his fists; he fights with his mind. That's what makes him a threat, and that's what you could learn—if you're sharp enough to see it."
Nathaniel nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the enigmatic boy. He wasn't sure what to make of Elian yet, but one thing was certain—there was much more to him than met the eye.
To be continued...