The storm screamed its fury into the blackness of the night. Waves, like liquid mountains, slammed against the hull of the *Sea Serpent*, their roar a constant, deafening threat. High atop the mainmast, a figure sat perfectly still amidst the chaos, lashed by wind and spray. Gilram’s eyes, if one could have seen them, held a coldness that dwarfed the storm’s rage. It was a deep, profound hatred, so potent it felt like a physical chill, a glacial aura that warned all living things to keep their distance.He wore a mask of placid obedience by day, a necessary disguise. Only in the violent solitude of the night could he let the mask slip, revealing the frozen core within.His story made Grimm’s childhood of begging on the streets of Bitherl seem idyllic. Fifteen years ago, a Black Sorcerer had descended upon Gilram’s peaceful village. The attack was not for conquest or plunder, but for procurement. The Sorcerer was collecting material

The Siren on the other side of the splintering door saw them. A raw, guttural roar of hunger echoed through the wood, followed by a series of massive, jarring impacts. The bar across the door groaned, and the wood began to splinter in earnest. Through the cracks, they could see more of the scaled, humanoid shapes converging from the darkened corridor. Hope, already a frail thing, shriveled and died.Their only chance lay in the enormous hole that had been torn in the ship’s side. It was the stranger male apprentice who first voiced the desperate plan. “The lifeboats!” he yelled, pointing at the opening to the churning sea below. “The ropes! We can climb to the deck!”It was a slender thread of hope, but they seized it. The young man was the first out, scrambling onto the precariously swinging ropes that held the lifeboats suspended along the ship’s hull. The deck was only five or six meters above—a climb that should have been s

 The battle at the deck entrance was held by four pillars of immense strength. The first was Barron, the Peak Knight, now shirtless, his dark muscles gleaming with sweat and saltwater as he wielded a massive axe with brutal efficiency, cleaving through any Siren that dared approach.The second was the ship’s boatswain, a man Grimm had seen often but never seen fight. He wielded a greatsword with a strength and skill that rivaled Barron’s, a revelation of hidden power among the crew.The third and fourth were the two apprentices from the Sorcerer’s cabin: the boy, Yunli, and the girl, Bibilyanna.It was their display of power that truly stole the breath from Grimm, Lafey, and the injured Yoric siblings. This was not the simple, artifact-driven trickery Lafey employed. This was raw, terrifying Sorcery.Bibilyanna, her beautiful face tight with a mix of fear and concentration, stood protected within the ring of sailors. Her gol

The survivors of the attack gathered on the main deck, a somber, shell-shocked crowd. The air was thick with the coppery smell of blood and the lingering stench of the deep-sea leviathan. Word spread in hushed, horrified whispers: the Sirens had rampaged all the way down to the third deck before the sailors had finally contained them. Those on the fourth and fifth decks had suffered the worst casualties. Ironically, the apprentices relegated to the dank, despised lowest deck had largely been spared, the monsters surging past them toward the perceived richer hunting grounds above.Binson found them, his usual boisterous energy replaced by a shaky, relieved exhaustion. "You're alive! Thank the twisted stars! I thought I was done for! The great magical apprentice from Tamburlain, ended as sea monster dung before he even reached the academy…" He gestured vaguely behind him at a small group of other survivors. "Come on, let me introduce you…"Grimm could only

The hottest topic among the leaderless apprentices wasn't the missing Sorcerer Dira, nor the terrifying new master who had claimed their ship. It was the death of Barron, the Peak Knight, at the hands of the prodigy, Yunli.No one knew why Barron had suddenly launched a suicidal attack on the boy. But everyone understood, with a chilling certainty, that the order must have come from Sorcerer Dira before he fled. A servant like Barron did not act on such a whim.Yet, Yunli had been prepared. As the knight lunged with his axe, a blur of motion and lethal intent, the boy had moved with a preternatural calm. What followed wasn't a battle; it was a brutal, one-sided dissection. There were no flashes of light or roaring elements—just the silent, invisible application of a force that severed and parted. After a few frantic, desperate exchanges, Barron's head simply vanished from his shoulders, his neck ending in a perfectly smooth, mirror-like cut. His body crumpled to