Voyage To The Dark Continent (1)

After leaving the mansion, Leonhardt traveled down the mountain, following the dirt road through the forest until he reached the port.

Despite it being night, the port was buzzing with life. Smooth cobblestone streets were lined with lampposts powered by energized mana crystals, casting a soft glow along the roads.

Fish sellers shouted for customers to buy their wares, and people were gathered around a man dressed in exquisite clothing, a scar etched across his chin. He stood near the boat docks in front of a beautiful ship.

Leonhardt approached the crowd, curious about the reason behind the commotion that blocked the carriages.

"Everyone, gather around and take a look!" the scarred man shouted. "The newest form of sea transportation! Engineered by the leading innovators of mana crystals—The Crystal Corporation! This sea vessel is powered by energized mana crystals, meaning no friction—just a smooth glide! Not to mention it’s more comfortable and faster than any other boat!"

The ship did indeed look extravagant—especially for a medieval world. But Leonhardt noticed something else.

In his previous life, these types of sea vessels had become extremely popular among the nobility... yet the one before him seemed slightly inferior to those he had seen before.

The man continued, "As this is still a prototype, we’ll only be charging one gold coin per person!"

Someone from the crowd raised a hand. "Where will it be going?"

The man at the front grinned. "That depends entirely on you! We’ll take you wherever you want to go—depending on how much we’re paid, of course."

'If that’s the case...' Leonhardt began to think, but his thoughts were cut short as a commotion stirred at the back of the crowd.

People began to part, forming a path as three cloaked figures approached. The moment they passed by Leonhardt, he could feel it—immense power from all three. Especially the shortest one in the center. They had a faint green aura surrounding them.

They headed straight to the scarred man and whispered something into his ear. His expression immediately darkened. They handed him a small bag of coins, and then he turned to the crowd.

"Everyone... our destination has been decided," he said hesitantly.

"The Dark Continent... If there are others among you willing to go..." His words slowly trailed off.

The crowd stirred with unease.

“Screw that! I’m too young to die.”

“Yeah! Why the hell would anyone even want to go there?”

"It’s a shame... I wanted to surprise my wife. She would've loved it..."

"Let's go."

The crowd dispersed, voices of frustration and regret fading into the night. The scarred man stood silently, shoulders heavy, until he finally turned to the cloaked trio.

"We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning. If that’s all, then—"

“W-Wait!” a voice called out.

A man clutching a leather-bound case pushed through the crowd.

“I want to take the trip!” he said, approaching the scarred man. “You said one gold coin, right?”

He glanced around nervously, then handed over the coin. Afterward, he quickly turned and rushed away—only to bump into someone.

A woman with black hair tied in a neat bun. She wore a crimson robe.

Her jet-black eyes seemed void of warmth, yet her voice carried a gentle tone.

“Oh my! Are you alright?” she asked softly.

“Y-Yeah...” the man mumbled before hurrying past her.

The woman blinked slowly, watching him flee.

“My... That’s the first time someone’s run away after seeing my face. That hurts my feelings,” she said with a delicate sigh, then continued walking toward the scarred man.

As she passed Leonhardt, she gave a faint smile and a subtle nod.

Leonhardt’s eyes followed her back. Embroidered on the crimson robe was an insignia of a hollow flame.

'Don’t tell me... Did Mother already send someone to search for me?'

The red robe, bearing the flame insignia, was the unmistakable garb of a mage from the Fire Tower. And the chances of one heading to the Dark Continent on the same ship as him...

Was it coincidence?

He stepped forward, approached the scarred man, and handed him a gold coin.

The man gave Leonhardt a small plate crafted from mana crystals.

Without a word, Leonhardt turned and walked away. He needed a place to stay for the night—and so he set out to find an inn.

***

Later that night...

After finding a fairly cheap inn, he bought a room for the night. Now, he sat quietly on the bed, removing his mask.

He held it in his hand, inspecting it.

The mask had once belonged to his father—or so his mother had told him. It was special. To anyone who looked at it, it would appear as the animal they felt most comfortable with.

To Leonhardt, it looked like a cat.

Though he wasn’t especially fond of cats, he figured that if he were ever asked to choose a pet, a cat would be his first pick.

“Father... I wonder what kind of person—cough!”

He bent forward, a violent cough shaking his body.

When it stopped, he glanced down at his hand.

Blood.

Dark—almost black.

“Damn it. I didn’t think it would happen this soon…”

It was a side effect of using Blood Magic. Normally, the only danger came from bleeding out if misused—but that applied to regular people.

People born with mana particles.

By using Blood Magic, even just once, Leonhardt had unknowingly pulled a small amount of mana particles into his bloodstream from the surrounding atmosphere.

These particles were called pure mana particles. And a human body—especially one without innate mana—couldn’t contain them.

His body was rejecting the tainted blood, trying to purge the foreign power. That was the cause of the dark color.

Leonhardt wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

“If only I had mana particles... I wouldn’t have to deal with this damn problem.”

But no matter how much he wished for it, things didn’t just magically happen. And he knew that.

He let out a long sigh, slipped the mask back on, turned off the light crystal, and lay down to sleep.

***

The next morning...

Leonhardt woke early.

He grabbed his bag and made his way back to the port, where he boarded the ship.

Several passengers had arrived before him. The interior of the vessel reminded him of a train from Earth—comfortable seats arranged in pairs, a small table built between every two sets, with opposing seats across from them.

The boat could probably fit around twenty people.

The three cloaked individuals sat together. The man with the leather case was in the back, still clutching it tightly. The woman from the Fire Tower sat at the front, watching the sea in silence.

Leonhardt took a seat in the middle, next to the window.

Though it was still early, the sun had already risen. Its rays shimmered across the surface of the sea, casting golden sparkles through the glass.

The morning seemed peaceful...

Until three armored individuals entered the ship. Gardric was one of them.

Clad in white armor and marked with the insignia of a golden phoenix, they stepped inside with solemn presence.

Everyone turned to look.

The man with the case trembled. Leonhardt narrowed his eyes.

The Holy Church of Miraphiel.

The Golden Phoenix Knights.

Direct subordinates of the Saintess.

'If they find out about the Seven-Pointed Star... they’ll try to exterminate me.'

The knights sat at the table directly to his left.

Silence returned—but the tension remained.

Every person aboard that ship harbored secrets of their own.

And they were all headed toward one destination.

The Dark Continent.