The port village was alive with activity under the morning sun. Merchants shouted prices, children chased each other along the wooden docks, and the scent of grilled fish mingled with the salty breeze. Maris moved quietly along the edge, observing everything. Every gesture, every habit, every pattern was cataloged in her mind by the System.
Her eyes fell on a young woman climbing the rigging of a ship with effortless precision. Hair tied back, movements sharp and fluid—every action spoke of skill, agility, and discipline. The System highlighted her immediately:
"Subject 1: High agility, strong observational instincts, potential for strategic combat support. Recommended: cautious approach."
Nearby, a young man effortlessly lifted and moved heavy crates, his motions fluid and controlled. Another potential ally.
Maris didn't act hastily. Observation first, understanding second. Patience was key.
Suddenly, a commotion near the docks drew her attention. A pair of thugs had cornered a merchant, demanding payment for "protection."
Maris' fingers brushed her cutlass. Her dark blue eyes glimmered with calm focus. Perfect, she thought. A chance to test the world—and myself.
She stepped forward subtly, her presence barely noticeable, letting the System map the thugs' every movement. A small gust of wind tipped a crate near them. Their attention snapped to it, and their predictability revealed itself.
With precise manipulation of wind and environment, she nudged, distracted, and tripped them—never striking, never hurting. Within moments, the thugs were off balance, stumbling, and the merchant was safe.
Maris melted back into the shadows. The System chimed:
"First real-world combat observation complete. Human behavior logged. Prediction accuracy: 96%. Tactical advantage confirmed."
The first lesson outside the island was done. Maris had survived—and she had learned.
She continued to the quieter docks near the village's edge. Smoke and chatter drifted from a hidden section of the harbor—unmarked on most maps. Her System cataloged everything: routines, layouts, even guard rotations.
Her eyes returned to the woman on the rigging and the man moving crates. Both were capable—but could they work together? Could they survive under a leader who relied on observation and strategy rather than brute force?
Maris decided to test them.
"Before anyone sails with me," she said calmly, "I need to see how you think, react, and adapt. Strength alone isn't enough. A crew must move as one, anticipate each other, and survive anything the sea throws at them."
The woman smirked. "Sounds like a test."
"Exactly," Maris replied. "Your first challenge is simple: move from here to the end of the dock without touching the water. Observe, calculate, and adjust."
The woman leapt first—graceful, precise, flawless. The System highlighted every movement:
"Agility excellent. Anticipation of unstable surfaces high. Tactical advantage confirmed."
The man went next, relying on strength and balance. He stumbled slightly but corrected instantly. The System logged his adaptability:
"Strength and reflexes high. Problem-solving mid-action above average. Potential for rapid growth: very high."
Satisfied, Maris introduced teamwork. She placed a small barrel in the center of the dock. "Move it together to the end. Coordination and timing will decide success."
At first, mistakes surfaced—miscommunication, hesitated steps, a tilting barrel. Maris subtly guided the barrel with her Dryad powers, allowing them to adjust without direct interference. Together, they completed the challenge.
"Good," Maris said, stepping forward. "Today wasn't about strength. It was about understanding each other, reacting together, and learning. A crew succeeds only if its members trust and adapt."
The woman grinned. "You're… different. Most people would yell at us."
Maris shook her head. "I don't need to. Observation, strategy, and timing are enough. The seas are dangerous. Intelligence and trust are what keep you alive."
The man nodded. "I get it. I want in… if this is how it works."
Maris smiled faintly. Good.
The first sparks of the Gale Serpents Pirates had been lit—not with battle or storm, but with observation, teamwork, and trust.
The sun dipped low, painting the water gold and crimson. Maris D. Luna, child of sea and moon, had begun her journey—not just to survive, but to grow, lead, and conquer the seas on her own terms.
The horizon beckoned. Adventure, challenges, and the open world awaited. And this time, she would not face them alone.