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  I walked out to the deck, unnoticed by most. Only a few faces turned to face me, but soon lost interest; their attention was taken by the exhibition match that Zenom and Borealis was putting on. Adventurers and sailors alike crowded around the sand pit, giving just enough berth for the fighters to have room to swing their weapons. More than one hand exchanged coins, betting on who would emerge victorious.

  “Sir Lock?” said a familiar voice.

  It was Dawn Vetilius.

  Looking at her again, I definitely saw the resemblance between her, Aurora and Borealis. A defining trait among the Vetilius household if you will. Most noticeable was the gray-hue hair. On Aurora, the gray reflected the light just enough to look like warm silver; looking like burnished iron when we entered dungeons. I always wondered how humans could have such strange hair colors, but had to remember that this was MSS.

  Borealis on the other hand had gray-silver hair that was muddied enough to look charcoal-gray on a cloudy day. Today though, the sun shone brightly and his hair looked brighter than usual.

  Then there was Dawn.

  Dawn’s hair was like fine silvery mist of the northern lights. It looked more like snow or ice than metal, taking on an almost ethereal hue. This was further intensified by the fact that under the afternoon sun on the open ocean, her hair gave off a rainbow hue when you looked at it just right. A medley of colors shone off of her hair, looking like a gemstone made of ice. Which, by chance, does exist in MSS lore.

  The Vetilius Scion wore some sort of fine leather armor that left her arms bare. My eyes were inevitably drawn to the almost casually toned arms that belonged to someone who didn’t have too much power, but compensated with speed. If I remembered correctly, she used a rapier. Matching the leather vest, she wore leather pants which hugged her figure closely. Contrary to her slender frame, her legs were thick and I could tell that they were heavily muscled even through the leather.

  ‘Rapier and her build… definitely not an Elemental Knight build then. Maybe poison? Or some kind of crit-fishing build? Or it could be a support-style DPS where she just inflicts statuses that weaken the monster somehow.’’

  “...Sir Lock?”

  Dawn’s voice broke my concentration and I realized that I’d just stood there, not listening to anything she said. I’d been staring at her though and long enough to make it more than just a simply moment of distraction.

  I noticed that she stood a little further from me than before. “I can see that you’re occupied… I’ll talk to you next time. Until then.” Promptly pivoting on her heel, she disappeared into the crowd.

  There was a guffaw of laughter from the group of sailors next to me.

  “Lad, you’re just- HAHAHAHA!” The group of beastmen, elves and humans all laughed. One of them even wiped a tear from their eye.

  I took a step closer and the laughter abruptly stopped.

  The sailors all looked at each other, emotions ranging between bewildered, panicked and… fear.

  They were afraid of me?

  “Whoa there, Sir Lock.” A bear beastman lifted both hands defensively, taking a step forward from the other sailors. “We didn’t mean offense, Sir.”

  I frowned in answer. “What do you mean?”

  “Er…” He shared a look with his fellow sailors. “Just that… we meant no offense. Only Oung knows how it can get at sea without a warm bed. I reckon we can relate more so than most.”

  Still having no idea what they were talking about, I took another step.

  And by god, one of the elves actually eeped and hid behind one of the barrels.

  What the hell?

  “Alright, that’s enough you lot.” Someone tapped me on the hip, shoving me to the side. “Don’t you lollygaggers have somewhere to be?”

  The sailors dispersed into the crowd, some muttering apologies to me and most refusing to meet my eyes.

  Captain Fluporuin turned around and crossed his arms. “Now, what in the hellfire forges was that about?”

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  “Bah, leave off him.” Doror said from behind me, walking past me and scowling at Fluporuin. “The lad meant nothing by it.”

  “Nothing by it?” Fluporuin waved his arms over his head. “He scared the living spirit out of my sailors! In broad daylight no less! Now listen here lad,” Fluporuin growled, “You might be a madman with the sword but this is my ship. Now I ain’t going to have you threatening my sailors. Knight’s honor or not, Sir or not, I ain’t going to have you-”

  “Fluporuin,” I said calmly, “I wasn’t threatening them.”

  Fluporuin deflated like a popped balloon but began bristling. “Then why the hell did you scare them like that then?”

  “I didn’t scare them either.” A bit of frustration entered my voice and I closed my eyes, forcing myself to stay calm. “I just wanted to know why they were laughing.”

  “They were laughing cause you ogled that Vetilius Scion, that’s why.” Fluporuin said crossly. “I get the lass is as pretty as first winter’s snow, but by the Forge, reign it in.”

  “What?!”

  I almost smacked myself on the head. How had I not seen it? They were laughing because they thought I just…

  “By the forge.” I sighed, taking a seat on a crate.

  There was a loud cheer from the huge crowd that stood all around us. But at that moment, not even the crowd’s exuberance could get me curious about what they were cheering for. I felt tired all of a sudden and the desire to just retire to my room and spend the rest of the day in silence seemed better than ever before. Even if that room was nothing but a tent with hard wooden floors.

  “I wasn’t ogling her.” I shoved my face in my hands. As much as I didn’t want to explain, I also didn’t want to be labeled as some kind of creep.

  “Yes you were.” Fluporuin replied without missing a beat.

  I gave him a look.

  “Aye, it’s that look that scares people.” Fluporuin said gravely and turned to Doror. “You see? What’d I tell you? He looks so ugly even my sailors are scared of him! They aren’t even scared of the Holy Knight and all the fancy men! But him!” He pointed at me. “One look from him and they go scurrying to the corners like galley rats!”

  Doror gave Fluporuin a sypathetic look. “Ain’t the lad’s fault.”

  Fluporuin gave me the once over. “...Aye, it ain’t. The gods are a fair one. He may be a devil with the sword, but ain’t a handsome devil. I’ll give him that.”

  “Holy…” I took a deep breath at the casual insult.

  Was this body that I’d been born into that ugly? Granted, I had the scars but I personally thought that Lock Slaveborn’s body had a roguish charm to it. Like a risk-taker, an adventurer who wasn’t afraid to hunt monsters. The way it should be.

  “Ain’t nothing holy about it.” Fluporuin grumbled. “Reckon we need a priest to exorcise his face, instead of healing it.”

  “Enough,” Doror said, “Ain’t his fault he looks like the wrong side of an ogre’s ass.”

  …did these Dwarves not know pity?

  “Yes, but all those scars… he probably has some delusions thinking that he looks like a-”

  “Enough!” I snapped when Fluporuin’s last comment hit too close to home.

  The two were grinning at me.

  Narrowing my eyes at them, I said, “You two were playing me.”

  “Aye, took you long enough.” Fluporuin answered.

  Doror took a seat next to me. “Looking like you ate a ghost lad.”

  “He always looked like that.” Fluporuin quipped.

  Doror shot him a look and the Dwarven Captain muttered a soft curse, but there was no heart in it. The Master Smith turned to me. “Everything ok, lad? We saw the whole thing. You storming out with death in your eyes. Aye, and then ogling that-”

  “I said I wasn’t ogling.”

  “Then what were you doing?”

  I gave Doror a look. “What else?”

  Would he understand? Would Fluporuin understand?

  Would they understand the life of an adventurer on an expedition like this, being forced to study all your comrades and not knowing who to trust? Knowing that today, you left your backs to them –leaving your life in their hands– but tomorrow, you might be burying a dagger in theirs? Could they know?

  That I’d just come from a conversation with a woman who was more than a friend and more than an enemy, and the back and forth of it all was driving me crazy? And then I realized that the conversation with Clover had put me in a bad mood, it had colored my steps every second of the way.

  There were few people I trusted with my life on this ship and my party was more than half of them.

  I took another breath. “It’s nothing. Adventurer drama.” I said simply.

  “Aye, I reckoned.” Doror said.

  No one said anything for a moment and another cheer went up from the crowd. Whatever Zenom and Borealis were doing, it must’ve been exciting.

  “There’s a drink in me cabin if you need talking to.” Fluporuin said.

  That might be the nicest thing he ever said to me, now that I think about it.

  I shook my head. “No, my mind needs to be clear.”

  “Suit yourself.” Fluporuin said. “But don’t go scaring my sailors, aye?”

  “I never did anything to scare them in the first place.”

  Fluporuin shared a look with Doror.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Time I be on my way.”

  Before I could say more, Fluporuin walked into the crowd. Doror gave me a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later, aye? I need to go over some repairs with that dung-arse over there.”

  That sounded like a code-word for a drinking session. But I didn’t comment, letting Doror go off without a word.

  That left me alone with my thoughts.

  A week left. A week left on this ship. A week left before we were on the Trader’s League. So far, all my vision for party growth centered around the Free Trader’s League. But I don’t think I ever considered what would happen if Clover turned into an enemy. What happened just now, surely it wouldn’t break the small tenuous alliance we had. But I also knew that Arione would turn on me at one crucial moment.

  ‘Would Lety just watch that happen?’

  No, I had to be cold and logical. So what if Lety didn’t like what was happening? Could she do anything even if she tried? Who really called the shots in that party?

  Clover and Arione.

  And right now, I didn’t trust either of them. I never could; but I came on this expedition because of Oung and hoped that Oung’s mission would be the priority. So much of a priority that killing me would be an afterthought.

  But Clover’s reaction just now…

  She’d turn Zenom Saintred against me. And not just him, the whole expedition. She didn’t even need to lift a finger. All she needed to do was tell people that I was behind the fires.

  Then what? Then it’d spell Game Over for my party.

  A week left. I had wanted to let my party rest for this week.

  But…

  ‘If this were the game, would you think your party was strong enough to deserve a break?’

  No. I wouldn’t.

  We were strong considering how long we’ve been a party for. Very strong compared to others with similar experiences. But those hand’t been free. We’d risked our lives on hunts. Most adventurers don’t do that. They grind away, gathering gold and preferring to buy Cores rather than hunt for it. But my party always hunted something stronger, or atleast just as strong. One of the reasons why we’d had such an accelerated growth rate was precisely because we never stopped.

  Claw’s Nest was around the corner. Big things would happen there.

  So why the hell did I want to sit on my ass for a week, just waiting to go shopping?

  The sparring match must’ve just ended because coin, –copper, silver and gold– appeared from thin air and began to be exchanged. It was accompanied by the grunts of sore losers and the smug smiles of happy winners. The cheer was almost deafening.

  “Ah, damn it!” Stole appeared out of the crowd. “I hate that Zenom guy! He threw the match!”

  “It was a spar, not indicative of their true battle prowess.” Aurora chided.

  “Victory issss victory, regardlesssss of the battlefield.”

  The crowds was dispersing and my party walked straight in front of me.

  “Mister! There you were!” Stole skipped over, “Guess how much gold Skaris lost? He-”

  “Sssssilenssssce, Whelp.” Skaris hissed.

  Stole stuck out her tongue like a child.

  “Mr. Lock, is everything alright?”

  I stared at my party, thinking.

  Who needed the most help? What could we do in the week that was left?

  What did I have in my arsenal that I could utilize to the fullest?

  “Change of plans.” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper as my nerves began to quiver in anticipation.

  Stole looked nervous all of a sudden. “Uh… Kyrian? What does that expression mean?”

  “It means-” Kyrian began.

  “Oh ssssshit.” Skaris cursed.

  Yeah.

  He was right.

  Oh shit.

  Lock's not a Slave anymore. He's a Party Leader, a respected Adventurer and a powerful Warrior in his own right.

  He needs time with friends and comrades.

  If it feels slow, I recommend waiting a couple of chapters.

  Because things are coming...

  Oh they are...

  P.S.

  Damn, please don't call Welsh people Sheepf*ckers in the comments...