The wind was sharper today, carrying the briny tang of the East Blue and the distant cries of seabirds. Maris stood at the bow of the small harbor vessel, dark blue eyes scanning the horizon. Beside her, the two villagers she had recruited—the first sparks of her crew—prepared themselves, tension evident in their posture.
"Today isn't training," Maris said, her voice calm but firm. "Today, you face a real challenge. Observation, teamwork, and quick thinking will decide whether you survive it. Mistakes here could sink this vessel—or worse."
The woman from the rigging arched an eyebrow. "So… you're sending us into danger already?"
Maris' lips curved faintly. "Not danger for the sake of it. The sea is unpredictable. Learning to react under pressure is the only way to grow. Are you ready?"
The man gripped the crates tighter, nodding. "I'm ready. Let's do this."
Maris pointed toward a small, uncharted island a few miles offshore. "A merchant's boat ran aground near that island. Your task: retrieve the cargo safely and return it here. No shortcuts. No reckless moves. Keep the vessel stable at all times."
The pair exchanged glances, then nodded. They understood—success required focus, teamwork, and trust.
The System hummed quietly in Maris' mind, calculating wind, currents, and potential hazards:
"Observation: Subjects performing within acceptable parameters. Risk level: moderate. Tactical advantage: manageable."
Subtle manipulation of the wind and currents by Maris' Dryad Zoan ability kept the vessel steady, giving her crew the chance to test themselves without direct interference.
Halfway to the island, a sudden wave rocked the boat. The crates shifted dangerously. The woman leapt to the ropes, stabilizing the mast. The man hesitated, then adjusted, letting the cargo shift naturally to counter the tilt.
Maris observed silently. Good. They're adapting, coordinating… learning.
By the time they reached the island, jagged rocks loomed near the shallow shore. "Careful," Maris warned. "One misstep and the boat could be damaged. Watch the currents, communicate constantly, and trust each other."
Together, they guided the vessel to a calm patch near the beach. The woman jumped onto the sand first, steadying the boat, while the man began offloading the cargo. Every action was deliberate, every decision calculated.
"Not bad," Maris said, stepping onto the island herself. "You adapted, coordinated, and completed the task without mistakes. That's how a crew grows stronger—together, under pressure."
The woman grinned, brushing sand from her clothes. "This isn't just training. This is survival."
The man laughed, sweat and salt on his skin. "Yeah… but I'm starting to understand why you lead this way."
Maris allowed herself a faint smile. Good. The first mission is a success. They're starting to trust me—and each other.
The return trip should have been simple—but the sea had one more lesson.
A shadow passed beneath the water—a subtle ripple at first—but Maris' eyes caught it immediately.
"Hold steady," she commanded. "Something's moving below."
The woman tensed. "A sea creature?"
Maris' voice was calm. "Possibly. Observe its movements before reacting."
The shadow surged upward. A giant jagged-toothed fish, the size of a small boat, leapt from the water, waves crashing over the deck. The man stumbled but kept the crates steady.
"Keep it balanced! Don't panic!" Maris shouted. Her System highlighted the predator's path:
"Predator detected. Aggression: moderate. Approach trajectory: predictable. Tactical options: calculated evasion recommended."
The woman adjusted the sail, tilting the vessel just right. The man shifted the cargo instinctively. Maris subtly guided the currents with her Zoan powers, pushing the fish away. With careful coordination, the creature leapt again, then vanished into the depths.
The boat rocked gently in the aftermath. Both crew members panted heavily, adrenaline still coursing through them.
The woman laughed shakily. "Okay… that was way more exciting than I expected."
The man wiped saltwater from his brow. "Yeah… but we did it. Together."
Maris allowed herself a faint smile. Exactly.
"Remember this moment," she said. "A crew survives not by strength alone. Observation, adaptability, and trust—that is what keeps you alive."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting golden streaks across the waves, Maris looked out toward the endless East Blue. This is only the beginning.
Storms, pirates, Marines, and mysteries waited. But this time, she was not alone. The Gale Serpents had taken their first steps—and nothing would stop them now.
The seas were calling, and the Gale Serpents were ready to answer.