EPISODE 45: Stopover in Funeumi City

The light of dawn threaded through the sea mist, filtering in through the round portholes of the Koreson ship's cabin.

Zenoda Blanco slowly opened his eyes. His consciousness was pulled back from its dance among the golden clouds of the Divine Realm. The first thing he felt was a supernatural strangeness enveloping his right arm and right leg — numb, stiff, and seemingly disconnected from his human central nervous system.

Zenoda tried to glance to his right, and the sight that greeted him made him exhale a long, resigned breath. Cedric Thundra and Elara Rosecold were snoring softly in positions that were deeply, profoundly uncomfortable.

Author's Note: Both of them had genuinely fallen asleep while keeping watch over Zenoda throughout the night without realizing it. Seated in wooden chairs, their heads had come to rest on Zenoda's heavily bandaged right arm and right leg respectively.

The weight of their heads pressing against his cracked nerves gave Zenoda a faint, persistent ache, and he found himself unable to shift his body. After failing to gently extract his arm, Zenoda's head began to heat up from having his dawn interrupted.

"Oi, wake up..." Zenoda called, his voice carrying the characteristic huskiness of someone who had only just regained consciousness.

No response. Cedric actually turned his head, causing strands of his blonde hair to poke directly into Zenoda's nose, while Elara murmured something unintelligible in her sleep.

Zenoda drew a short breath, then cranked his volume up to pure intimidation level. "I said... WAKE UPPPP ALL OF YOU!!"

"HAH?!" "KYAAaaaa?!"

Instantly, Cedric and Elara lurched awake like they'd been struck by lightning simultaneously. Both of them bolted upright from their chairs with wide, bewildered eyes, trying to collect the pieces of their scattered consciousness.

Zenoda rolled his eyes lazily and looked at them from the bed. "'Kyaa' my foot. Would someone please explain what exactly happened? You two turned me into a pillow and went to sleep on my right arm and leg?"

Elara, still only half awake, blinked her sapphire eyes repeatedly. The moment she registered that Zenoda was looking back at her with full, clear consciousness, her eyes immediately blazed with light.

"Zenoda... You... You're awake?!" Elara exclaimed, her voice trembling between disbelief and overwhelming relief.

"Well yes, that's about the size of it. Though I'd say this mortal body hasn't quite fully—"

Thud.

Before Zenoda could finish his medical self-assessment, Elara lunged forward and embraced him with fierce tightness. The snow-haired girl buried her face against his chest, abandoning every last shred of her noble dignity in the flood of happiness. For her, seeing the young man most precious to her breathing and awake was the greatest miracle she could have been given.

Zenoda went rigid, his left hand hanging frozen in the air, his flat expression coloring slightly with awkward embarrassment. "Hey, Your Highness... you're crushing my remaining functional ribs."

Cedric, watching the spontaneous romantic moment unfold before him, cleared his throat loudly and hid his mischievous grin. "Ahem! I... I'll go immediately inform the others and share this good news!" Cedric shot out of the cabin, shouting down the ship's corridor.

Within minutes, the cramped cabin was filled with the Koreson group. Linaya — the primary Healer — stepped forward, her anxious expression immediately shifting to something deeply emotional. She placed both palms gently over the bandages on Zenoda's hand and leg, channeling Holy Light to examine the internal nerve tissue.

After several minutes of focused concentration, Linaya's healing glow faded. The blonde girl's head lowered, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears she was working hard to hold back.

"Instructor... I have to be honest — I was only able to heal the external physical damage to your hand and leg," Linaya said in a hoarse voice thick with guilt. "The flesh and skin have closed, but... the mana flow in your internal circuit is completely blocked. Your hand and leg aren't functioning or responding to my healing magic. Forgive me, Instructor... my healing ability has failed."

Watching his most dedicated student blame herself to the point of nearly crying, Zenoda sighed softly. Using his functional left hand, he reached for Linaya's head and stroked her hair with the gentleness of a teacher.

"This isn't your fault at all, Linaya. You fought extremely well last night," Zenoda said reassuringly. "This paralysis is beyond the reach of human mortal healing magic. Because what's damaged right now... isn't my flesh or bones — it's the soul condition of my right hand and foot's internal circuit."

Linaya looked up, wiping her eyes. "Huh? So... what do you mean, Instructor?"

"Yes. To heal it completely, I'll need to use the specialized soul essence regeneration technique from my Grey Owl Familiar," Zenoda explained, briefly glancing toward the window where Mincilia was watching. "However, because this involves soul reconstruction, the healing can't be completed overnight. I'll need exactly one full week to recover. So... during that recovery time, help me keep my condition disguised, will you, Linaya?"

Linaya nodded firmly with renewed resolve. "Of course, Instructor!"

For the following week, life aboard the ship transformed into a deeply forehead-veining form of hell for Zenoda Blanco. With his right arm and right leg temporarily paralyzed from the divine energy compression the previous night, the former Supreme God of the universe was forced to live in complete dependence on other people.

To walk to the deck, he had to allow his shoulder to be supported by the broad frames of Karham or Agru. And the most dignity-destroying moment of all came at mealtimes.

Elara — with extreme protectiveness and a very slight undercurrent of deliberate mischief — always took over his plate. The girl would sit beside him, scoop up a spoonful of warm soup, and hold it directly in front of Zenoda's mouth with an expression of perfect innocence.

"Come now, open up, Blanco. You need nutrition," Elara would say with a sweet smile that contained unmistakable intent to tease.

Zenoda could only grind his teeth in exasperation, roll his eyes in resignation, and accept the spoonful under the collective entertained gazes of the entire ship's crew. As deeply galling as it was to his pride, he had absolutely no choice but to receive it with a degree of graciousness.

Thanks to the combined effort of Linaya's continuous healing magic during the day and the soul essence injections from the Grey Owl — Mincilia — every night while Zenoda slept, the miracle arrived at last.

Exactly on the seventh day, Zenoda felt a warm current creeping back through the tips of his right fingers and right toes. He unwound the bandages himself, then slowly rotated his wrist.

Crack. Crack.

"Ah, finally back in working order," Zenoda murmured with relief. He jumped to his feet and ran through a few basic warm-up movements to ensure his human muscles hadn't stiffened.

Watching their instructor standing upright and walking on his own again without assistance, Karham — who had been leaning against the mast — immediately grinned wickedly and glanced at Ziryal.

"Ahhhh... Feels rather quiet today, Ziryal," Karham remarked in a voice deliberately pitched to carry.

Zenoda turned sharply with a flat expression. "What is that supposed to mean, Karham?"

Cedric, who had just emerged from his cabin, joined in with a laugh he couldn't quite suppress. "Well... we all feel rather like we're missing out on free entertainment. Specifically, the entertainment of watching the most feared man in Koreson turning slightly red and mortified every time he got spoon-fed by his beloved."

STTTEEP!

Before Cedric could finish savoring his own mockery, a cold aura moved behind him. Elara had silently materialized at Cedric's back, her arm instantly wrapping around the blonde noble's neck in a firm rear chokehold.

"What exactly... did you just... say... Cedric Thundra?" Elara hissed with the smile of an extremely serene angel of death, pressing her forearm against Cedric's throat until the lightning noble started gasping for air.

"M-mercy, Your Highness! Ukh!" Cedric wheezed in suffering.

On the other side of the deck, Zenoda didn't use magic. He simply turned his body, looking directly into the eyes of Karham and Ziryal. The pitch-black intensity of his gaze radiated an invisible mutilation threat that communicated exactly the same message Elara was delivering to Cedric physically: Do you want me to take your legs off right now?

Karham and Ziryal immediately froze, began very unconvincingly pretending to study the clouds, and made their escape toward the stern of the ship.

The following week passed with considerably more peaceful sailing. Until one magnificently clear morning, when the sun rose spectacularly from the eastern horizon, the sound of large bells from the top of the highest mast shattered the ocean's quiet.

DONG! DONG! DONG!

"The Southern Continent's landmass is visible ahead!" the Captain shouted from the helm deck.

Hearing that announcement, the entire Koreson group ran to the ship's railing. Before them, piercing through the thinning sea mist, stretched an enormously wide coastline. An international port with giant wooden docks and hundreds of uniquely shaped fishing vessels arranged in neat rows filled their eyes with wonder.

Not long after, the Koreson military ship glided smoothly alongside the stone pier. Master Vivaldi stepped to the front of the formation, straightened his trading robe, then turned to deliver tactical briefings.

"Alright everyone, listen to me," Vivaldi said. "We have now officially set foot in Funeumi City. This port city is extremely rich in maritime resources, as the majority of the residents here make their living as fishermen and seasoned sailors. My trading connections here are quite strong."

Vivaldi pointed at a large inn building with a black tile roof near the harbor. "I've already rented a full inn for our group for tonight. So make the most of this time to rest. Tomorrow morning, we'll move immediately by land route toward this continent's capital — Nihondu City. For today... enjoy yourselves, blend in, but always keep your guard up for Purple Snake movements."

"UNDERSTOOD!" they all answered together.

After disembarking and placing their belongings in their rooms, they gathered in the lobby. Not sure what to do in this unfamiliar city, Zenoda — standing near the exit — finally spoke up, sharing a plan he had assembled from observing the local population's movements.

"Hmm... I think, before we go any further, the first thing we should do is buy some new clothing appropriate to the culture and customs of this continent," Zenoda said calmly.

He extended his hand and pointed at the commercial street of the harbor outside. There, several wealthy locals and swordsmen were passing by, wearing layered garments of cloth with a very distinctive cut — Kimonos and wide trousers with tightly cinched waistbands.

While pointing, Zenoda's eyes moved with precise attentiveness, studying the hips of each local passing by. He murmured inwardly.

(What Uncle Morlak said back in Kaigan was exactly right,) Zenoda observed. (The social caste system on this continent is truly visible at a glance just from their weapons. Long katanas hang at the right or left hip for wealthy individuals, rulers, and elite warriors. Shorter Iado swords are used by the middle class or commoners who possess the right to carry weapons. There are even a few merchants carrying only a short Wakizashi purely for self-defense.)

Elara, standing beside him, clearly agreed, her eyes brightening at the uniqueness of the local fabric. "Hmm... that's a very good idea, Blanco. In that case, let's go to the tailor district and get clothes for all of us. This time... consider it my treat, using my palace compensation funds!"

At the offer of free shopping from a King's daughter, every member of the group immediately cheered.

"YEEEY! Long live the Princess!" Annesia and Cedric shouted in perfect unison.

But in the middle of that celebration, Zenoda simply stepped forward with his flat expression intact. "I don't need to be treated. I'll pay my own portion with my gold coins."

Elara immediately stopped cheering, puffed her cheeks with irritation, and looked away. "Hummhph! Zenoda is absolutely no fun! Always acting overly independent."

Linaya, walking behind them, sighed and smiled with resignation. "Yes... I agree with the Princess. Instructor is sometimes far too rigid about accepting kindness from others."

Annesia elbowed her instructor's side from beside him. "Mm, sorry Instructor... but I have to state clearly that the Princess is right on this one. You're ruining the celebratory mood!"

Zenoda continued walking straight ahead, entirely unbothered by the protests of the girls around him. "I don't care. I have plenty of money."

The group spent the entire day exploring Funeumi City's tailor district. After a fairly exhausting process of measurements and fabric selection that stretched until sunset, they returned to the inn carrying large bundles.

Following Zenoda's instruction to avoid standing out too obviously while still showing the identity of armed travelers, they had all converged on the same combination: a deep-black Kimono paired with matching Hakama — the wide trousers characteristic of local swordsmen — cinched tightly at the waist. The combination of black fabric made the God Wings party and the Koreson nobles look considerably more intimidating and mysterious, like a gathering of shadow swordsmen.

Because they were completely exhausted from a full day of shopping and blending into the local population, everyone decided to return directly to their rooms. They spent their first night on the Southern Continent sleeping deeply without any interruptions.

Light mist still clung to Funeumi's harbor when the Koreson group had already gathered in the inn's rear yard. Three large land caravan wagons — purchased by Master Vivaldi through his trading connections — were already prepared and waiting.

Master Vivaldi stood on the front wagon's driver seat, checking his rolled map before delivering final instructions.

"Our next journey is directly to the capital of the Southern Continent — Nihondu City," Vivaldi said with an authoritative tone. "This land route will take approximately two full weeks, passing through hills and bamboo forest. I've already prepared all the fresh logistics supplies for our journey. Alright then... is everyone ready?"

"READY!" they answered together, their voices cutting through the morning air.

The caravan convoy began moving slowly, leaving through Funeumi City's gate and beginning the long journey through the Southern Continent's landmass toward the heart of Nihondu's power.

For the entire first week of overland travel, there was remarkably little that was unusual or dangerous. The trade route they followed was comparatively busy and safe. Everything went extremely smoothly without any magical interference or weather obstacles.

The contrast with their earlier land journey from Koreson to Kaigan was striking — on that trip, barely a few kilometers past the city boundary, they had immediately been attacked in relentless waves by the savage monsters of the Wrathwood. This week of quiet was precisely what kept Zenoda's combat instincts locked at their highest level of vigilance. He understood that tranquility inside enemy territory was an illusion.

Until, on the night at the end of the first week, their caravan pulled aside to stop in an open area surrounded by the dense black bamboo forest.

After pitching temporary tents, lighting small shielded campfires, and preparing to settle into sleeping bags for the night... Zenoda, who had been sitting with his back against one of the caravan wheels, suddenly opened his eyes. His dark pupils flashed sharply in the night's darkness.

His microscopic cosmic instincts had caught a fluctuation — footstep movements that were extraordinarily regular and completely silent, moving through the dense bamboo leaves from multiple compass directions, converging around and locking in on the position of their campsite.

Zenoda rose slowly, his right hand immediately closing tightly around the handle of his new black Iado sword.

"Everyone up," Zenoda said in a voice that was low but resonated sharply — cutting directly into the tents of his students. "I can feel... we're being surrounded right now."

SHRAAAK. SHRAAAK.

Before Karham or Ziryal could emerge from their tents to respond to the warning, the sound of bamboo leaves splitting rang out sharply. In an instant, a tactical ambush erupted from the darkness of the black bamboo forest.

From within the dense trees, a group of hired assassins — approximately twenty enemies — surged out. They wore tight black swordsman garments with cloth masks covering their entire faces. Unfortunately for the intruders, they had only just realized that their target had detected their presence before they could launch their surprise attack.

Knowing their infiltration plan was completely compromised, the intruders didn't hesitate. They drew their short swords in unison and shot forward at high speed, driving straight into the camp with stabbing thrusts.

Zenoda stepped out from the shadow of the caravan and looked at the advancing assassins with eyes as cold as ice.

"Tch... Damn," Zenoda muttered briefly.

With a movement too fast for any mortal eye to follow clearly, Zenoda's right hand moved with precise economy — drawing the black Iado sword from the spatial storage pack fastened at his hip. A sharp dark-blue aura immediately wrapped around the short blade, ready to split the night.

"Everyone guard the carriages and protect Master Vivaldi!" Zenoda called to his students who were already spilling out of their tents with their own weapons. "I'll personally break apart and settle this little problem right now!"

Zenoda bent his knees into a low stance, preparing to launch the lightning-fast Iado quickdraw that would meet the first storm of strikes from the mysterious assassins head-on.