Leo was currently back in the room, fuming with anger and the seasickness was back. Apparently, it had returned after he and Taren had sothing to eat in the small cafeteria built into the large vessel.
The bad part about it was that that was one week ago. Leo had spent a whole week on this beautifully dreadful landscape with no signs of land.
"Why the hell was the Awakening City built in the center of nowhere in the first place?"
Leo covered himself with the bedsheets and continued to fu. The past week hadn’t been so bad aside from the part where they ca across a Condemned Aura Farr in the depths of the ocean taking the form of a whale. It reminded Leo of Lyra, just that this whale was a shade of brown.
The battle wasn’t catastrophic, though, as Fang Rui and two other high-ranked Aura Farrs dealt with it.
He had also been chatting with Fang Rui a bit too much lately. They had been at loggerheads right from when Leo was first able to talk. This new, strange chemistry between them looked suspicious to Leo, knowing the bastard might be up to sothing.
"...Ah wait, I’m the bastard here, technically..."
Usually, their relationship consisted of Fang Rui throwing insults and Leo throwing tantrums, but lately, the older man had been dropping fragnts of history and cryptic advice like breadcrumbs.
"He’s definitely planning to sell away," Leo grumbled. "Or he’s just bored and I’m the only one who can stand up to him."
Aside from the frequent discussions with the Demon of Shadows, he also sparred with Taren every single day of the past week.
Taren was a skilled martial artist. Although his understanding couldn’t be compared to that of Fang Rui or so other people, it was by far on a greater level than Leo’s. He was a Banished, so he had to rely on things like martial arts to survive.
He and Fang Rui ca from a royal family that excelled in martial arts. Technically, Taren isn’t of the royal bloodline since he is just a childhood friend of Fang Rui and was able to et Leo through the mind-reading geezer.
Anyway, Taren had shown Leo the true aning of martial arts by defeating him multiple tis in a single week.
Over the last week, Taren had been a relentless wall. Despite being a Banished, soone disconnected from the flow of the Aura System, his physical mastery was a nightmare for Leo to deal with. Without the use of his system’s more cheating characteristics, Leo was just a boy with a sword, and Taren was a machine of refined movent.
Leo kicked the thin blanket off his legs, the fabric feeling like a sandpaper trap against his skin. Every ti the ship’s hull groaned, his stomach gave a sympathetic, nauseating creak.
One week. Seven days of staring at the sa rise and fall of the horizon until the very concept of land felt like a fairy tale told to children to keep them from jumping overboard.
"Awakening City... more like Abandoned City," Leo muttered, burying his face in his pillow.
The door to the cabin creaked open, and Taren stepped in, looking far too balanced for soone on a tilting ship. He was wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel, his wooden training sword tucked under his arm.
"Still fuming?" Taren asked, a sympathetic but tired smile on his face. "The cafeteria lady said the ginger tea should be ready in ten minutes. It might help with the... you know."
"If you say the word ’nausea’ one more ti, I’m using the [Yielding Spine] to turn this room into a blender," Leo threatened, though his voice lacked its usual bite.
Taren sat on the edge of his own bed, the wood sighing under his weight.
"You’re getting better, Leo," Taren said, sensing the frustration. "Yesterday, you actually caught my lead foot during the sweep. Most people don’t even see the sweep."
"Yeah, and then you hit in the ear with the hilt," Leo reminded him, rubbing the side of his head. "I don’t get it. You don’t have a Living Seed. You don’t have a rank. How the hell are you faster than a Capricorn?"
Taren looked at his calloused hands, his expression turning serious. "Because I have to be. When the world is filled with people who can command lightning and summon armor from thin air, a Banished only has two options: be faster than the thought, or be dead before the strike. Martial arts isn’t just fighting for , Leo. It’s my life-support system."
Leo sat up slowly, the room spinning for a second before settling. He looked at Taren, really looked at him. While Leo had been obsessing over his Sagittarius Vestiges and his evolving status, Taren had been perfecting the tilt of a wrist and the weight of a footfall.
"Technically," Leo said, his voice softer, "you’re the one who should be the royal. You have the discipline for it. My original family was assassinated and my new one is just plain crazy. We’re just a bunch of high-ranked disasters."
Taren laughed, a short, sharp sound.
"Maybe. But the disasters are the ones who change the world. People like just try to survive the changes." He stood up, tossing the wooden sword onto Leo’s bed. "Ginger tea in five minutes. Then, we go again. I noticed you’re leaning into your thrusts too much when the ship tilts left. We’re fixing that today."
Leo groaned, reaching for the wooden sword. His muscles scread in protest, and his stomach flipped at the thought of more tea, but he felt a spark of that bastard stubbornness returning.
"Fine," Leo hissed, standing up and testing his balance. "But if I throw up on your boots today, Taren, don’t say I didn’t warn you."
Taren just winked and headed for the door.
"Wouldn’t be the first ti, Leo. Wouldn’t be the first ti."
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