The candle on the captain's desk flickered in the sea breeze, shadows dancing across his weather-worn face. For a long moment, he didn't speak. His eyes weren't on Rai anymore—they were somewhere far off, in a memory soaked in blood and silence.
So he wants to be a cultivator... he thought.
Countless faces flashed through his mind. Friends. Rivals. Monsters. Saints. All once so bright, now scattered dust across the cosmos.
Some of them reached the stars. Others died screaming in places no one remembers.
He looked at the boy again. Still dripping seawater. Barefoot. Clueless. But there was something wild and stubborn behind those bright eyes.
"You know," the captain began slowly, his voice low and grim, "cultivation isn't about dreams. It's a gamble. The stakes are your soul."
Rai tilted his head.
The captain continued, tapping his fingers again. "You chase power, and maybe you gain everything you ever wanted. Immortality. Strength. Glory. But... for every one who gets there, a hundred lose everything they ever had. Family. Mind. Body."
He leaned in. "And even if you survive... you're never really the same."
Rai's smile faded. For once, his shoulders straightened. His eyes locked onto the captain's.
"I know," he said simply. "But I still have to do it."
There was no trace of his usual goofy tone. No flailing arms. No jokes. Just calm, clear certainty.
The captain studied him carefully, then gave a long sigh. "Alright then... what is your spiritual root?"
Rai blinked. "Uh... what?"
"Your spiritual root. The foundation of your cultivation."
Rai scratched his head. "No idea."
The captain frowned. "Okay... what about your spiritual veins?"
Rai raised his eyebrows. "Ummmmm?"
The captain pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you even know what those are?"
Rai offered a sheepish grin. "Not a clue. hehe."
The captain groaned and leaned back in his chair. "Why do I even bother... Alright, listen up. I'll explain it once, and if you still want to chase this madness, you're on your own."
He stood and walked over to a cabinet, pulling out a scroll. Rolling it open on the table, he tapped a crude diagram of a human body with glowing lines running through it.
"In this world, energy flows through everything—mountains, rivers, beasts, stars, and people. We call it qi. Cultivation is the art of absorbing and refining qi to strengthen your body, mind, and soul."
Rai leaned closer, fascinated.
"Spiritual roots are the part of your body that absorbs qi . Everyone has one, but their quality differs. The better your root, the easier it is to cultivate."
"How do I know what kind I have?"
"Tests. Ancient stones, formations. Some sects can tell just by touching you."
Rai nodded. "Okay. And the veins? Can you—"
The captain gave him a look—flat, unreadable—and simply turned to the cabinet without responding.
"Spiritual veins are like rivers inside you. They circulate the energy you absorb. Clear veins, wide paths, steady flow—you grow faster. Twisted, broken, or clogged veins? Your path is hell."
"...Do people fix them?"
The captain gave a dry chuckle. "Only if you're rich, lucky, or a genius. Most with damaged roots or veins die trying."
Rai was quiet. The candle crackled softly.
Then he asked, "What type do you have?"
The captain stared for a second, then looked away. "I had a decent root. Nothing special. My veins... were another story."
"Did you ever reach the top?"
The captain didn't answer.
Rai didn't press.
Instead, he looked down at his hands. "So... I might have garbage roots. Blocked veins. And no clue what I'm doing."
The captain raised an eyebrow. "And you're still serious?"
Rai nodded. "I have to try. Even if I die trying."
"Kid, you will die trying if you go in blind."
Rai smiled again, that spark returning. "Then I'll go in with my eyes open."
The captain snorted. "You're insane."
"Takes one to know one."
Silence fell again, but this time it wasn't tense. It was... mutual understanding.
The captain sat down slowly. "Alright, boy. I can't train you. I'm not a master. But I know a place—a small outpost near the mainland. Cultivators pass through it. Merchants trade spirit herbs. If you're lucky, someone might take you in."
Rai's eyes lit up.
"Don't thank me," the captain said, holding up a hand. "Just survive. And remember... cultivation doesn't just test your strength. It tests your heart."
Rai stood, fists clenched with excitement.
"I'm ready."
The captain chuckled. "We'll see about that."
He stood up and walked to the door, opening it slightly to let in the salt-tinged air. "We'll reach the outpost in two days. Go rest, eat, talk to the others if you want. You'll need your strength."
He gave Rai one last look, something between worry and respect flickering in his eyes, before turning back to his desk.
Rai returned to the crew on deck, who were gathered around a barrel, chatting and chewing on dried fruit. As soon as they saw him, their voices dropped and they all turned.
"So," one sailor asked with a sly grin, "what did the captain want?"
Rai shrugged nonchalantly. "He just asked where I was going. That's all."
Another crewmate leaned in, clearly unconvinced. "That's it? No scolding? No threats?"
"Nope," Rai said, popping the 'p'.
He then looked around at them curiously. "So, uh, who are you guys? And where's this ship headed exactly?"
The crew fell silent.
One of them gave a dry laugh. "Kid, since you're dreaming of being a cultivator, here's a rule you better remember: Never ask a wandering ship where it's going, or who's on it. Whether you're on a lake, an ocean, or in deep space."
Rai blinked. "Wait, what do you mean 'in space'? There's water in space ?"
The oldest sailor spat over the side. "You've got no clue what's out there, boy. I once saw two ten-year-old cultivators playing catch with a planet. A real planet."
Rai's mouth dropped open in awe. "That's... that's insane... that's... AWESOME!! Do you think I could do that too?!"
The crew groaned in unison.
"Oh no. He's one of those.
"Is his screw loose or what?" one of them whispered, earning a few snickers.
That night, the ship rocked gently under a dark sky littered with stars. The crew slept scattered across hammocks and corners of the deck. Rai lay curled up with his hands under his head, staring at the sails above him as the sea hummed softly.
Eventually, his eyes drifted shut.
In his dream, he was standing in a foggy, endless void—but the fog was glowing red. All around him, the ground cracked and sizzled as if scorched by unseen flames. The air was heavy with smoke and heat, and the sky above flickered like it was on fire.
From the burning mist, a figure emerged—tall, cloaked in shadows, its voice echoing like a distant whisper.
"...Sorry. I'm sorry."
The figure reached out slowly and tapped Rai gently on the forehead.
His eyes snapped open.
The deck was quiet. The wind calm. Only the waves replied.
Rai sat up slowly, rubbing his head. "Same dream again... heh. Who are you?"
He looked up at the stars, thoughtful.
Then he stood, stretched with a grunt, and made his way toward the front of the ship to catch the first light of dawn.
But just as he climbed the last few steps, the ship jolted violently—enough to rattle crates and send a rope ladder swinging.
"What the—?!" Rai grabbed the railing.
The sudden movement stirred the entire crew. Doors slammed open, and groggy sailors stumbled out from every corner of the deck, weapons or ropes in hand. The captain stormed up moments later, eyes sharp.
From the churning sea behind the ship, something monstrous rose.
A serpent-like creature—scaled and sea-slicked—shot into the air. Its body was long and coiled like a dragon, but it had two jagged wings that cut the clouds as it soared. Its face was narrow, stretched with gleaming teeth, and its eyes glowed an icy blue. Water poured from its body in sheets as it spiraled above the deck like a shadow of doom.
The sailors gawked.
"Sea-Wyrm?!" someone shouted.
"No... it's something worse," the captain muttered, his hand on his sword but not drawing it yet.
He scanned the deck, searching.
Let's see if that boy's still got that silly grin now...
But when he found Rai in the crowd, his breath caught.
There the boy was—eyes wide, sure, but not from fear. From wonder. He looked hungry. Excited. Like a starving man seeing a feast.
Rai licked his lips. "Cool..."
The captain didn't know whether to be impressed or terrified.