(The Timeless Ocean, Three Weeks Later, Leonardo’s POV)

The waves rose and fell in long, deliberate gaps, as if the Timeless Ocean itself was alive and testing the will of those who dared sail across its endless spine.

The salt hung thick in the air, clinging to skin and steel alike, while the wind whistled through the rigging with the melancholy tune of a thousand drowned voices.

Leonardo stood at the bow of the flagship, his hands resting lightly on the damp railing as his eyes followed the horizon.

Somewhere beyond that gray expanse, explorers had sworn to see it, a floating island, drifting across the clouds of mist.... which disappeared as soon as one got too close.

’I wonder if we will encounter any dangerous monsters today?’

He wondered, as he glanced at the fleet sailing around him.

In total, the Cult had deployed seven ships for this exploration, which sailed in a diamond formation.

The main ship, which he floated on, sailed at the centre, while four light guard boats surrounded him in a square, with two agile scouts flanking his either sides.

Aboard one of the scouting ships, stood Anderson Silva, the Monarch tactician that his uncle had sent to oversee this operation.

While aboard the main ship stood Mickey James, the other Cult Monarch, who had an easy going personality, and a laughter that could be heard even over the storms.

*Slosh*

*Splash*

The ocean was calm today, an unnatural phenomenon within the Time Stilled World, as usually it was a constant storm, which the Monarch’s had to carve through with their blades to ensure the fleet’s safety.

Unlike the others, who had a purpose and role defined on the ship, Leonardo enjoyed the privilege of being a Skyshard, as he was left to his own devices, free to spend his days as he pleased.

However, despite not being asked to do anything, he helped everywhere he could, and spent every spare minute learning valuable life and combat lessons from the two Monarchs onboard, as he tried to make the most of his time away from home.

Despite being 22 and a Grandmaster, this was his first real adventure, as never before had he stayed away from home for so long, or been a part of a mission so dangerous.

He told himself that with Mickey and Anderson by his side, there was little to fear.

For the two of them had each fought and killed beasts that could split mountains and shatter continents, so surely a voyage like this would be safe with them.

However, the Timeless Ocean was an enigma of its own, with many Monarch Tier beasts hiding inside its vast depths.

*Step*

*Step*

*Creek*

The deck creaked beneath his boots as he turned toward the voices of two sailors bailing water near the port rail, their conversation rising above the crash of the waves.

"Man, when do you think the Lord will stop his daily challenges against the soldiers?" one of them asked, his tone halfway between exhaustion and admiration. "Word is he’s already past seven hundred thousand wins. When will enough be enough?"

"Maybe a million?" the other replied, scratching his head as if unsure whether the number was absurd or inevitable.

"Yeah, but don’t you think it’s a waste to train that way? If it were me, I’d work on speed, or learn new spells. I mean—what can he possibly gain by beating lower-tier opponents?"

The first sailor’s question lingered, swallowed for a moment by the sound of the waves slapping the hull, before his companion finally spoke again.

"Yeah, but it’s not like he makes it easy on himself. He fights with all kinds of handicaps—restricted mana, dulled weapons, zero vision or mobility. It’s a miracle he still wins that much in a row."

"That’s true," the first admitted, his voice softening. "The Lord’s power is something else. Doesn’t matter how he trains; when it comes to fighting, he’s unmatched."

Leonardo’s lips curved faintly as he listened from afar, pretending to study the sea though his ears caught every word.

Their voices carried pride, respect, and awe in equal measure, and though they did not speak his uncle’s name, Leonardo knew they didn’t need to.

It was the same man every soldier meant when they said "the Lord."

The same man who had taught Leonardo to hold a blade, to steady his breath, to never fear the silence before a fight.

A warmth stirred within him, fleeting but sincere. Hearing the men of the Cult speak of his uncle that way filled him with quiet pride, and perhaps, a little envy.

Because one day, he wanted them to speak of him the same way.

One day, he wanted to become a man as great as his uncle.

"Father says that I have more talent than him when it comes to fighting.

But that I’m still not as good as uncle...

Despite never having trained a day in his life until the age of 20, uncle still managed to become Transcendent before turning 25.

While I’m still a far cry from that tier.

Haha, sometimes I feel like nobody can be as good as uncle,

But I can at least try...."

Leonardo mused to himself as he turned back toward the open sea, his eyes fixed on the horizon that refused to end, as thunder murmured in the far distance and the scent of rain grew sharper.

"A storm is coming.."

He judged, as soon, he heard men repeating the same.

"A storm’s coming," one said, tightening the ropes.

"Aye, a big one," another replied, glancing nervously toward the horizon.

The sails creaked as the wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of rain. The once–steady sea began to stir, the rhythm of the waves turning uneven, while the sky dimmed a shade darker.

Leonardo exhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving the distance, as he prepared for a rough few hours of sailing.

There was a fifty-fifty chance that the storm would be accompanied by a mind illusion of sorts.

For somehow, that was how the pattern had been since the start of their journey three weeks ago.