Morning came slowly over the northern coast.
The harbor was blanketed in a thin, rolling layer of fog.
Ships moved quietly through the dark ocean waters, while the steady rhythmic clatter of iron hammers echoed from the drydock.
Justus was already awake.
He stood high on the scaffolding of the unfinished ship, looking out over the misty harbor.
Below him, Kael was shouting at several workers.
“That beam goes there!”
A worker pointed upward, looking confused.
“Here?”
“No!
The other side!”
“This side?”
Kael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“The other other side!”
Justus laughed from above.
Kael looked up, glaring.
“You think this is funny?”
“A little.”
“Get down here and help, then!”
Justus casually hopped down from the deck.
“I was supervising.”
Kael stared at him.
“That’s Daemon’s excuse.”
Speaking of Daemon…
He was sitting on a wooden crate nearby, methodically cleaning the bolt mechanism of his rifle.
Kael pointed a thick finger toward him.
“Your friend has been sitting there for twenty minutes.”
Daemon didn’t look up from his cloth.
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“Nothing.”
Kael frowned.
“Then why are you thinking?”
Daemon calmly continued wiping down the steel barrel.
“Because I can.”
Justus let out a snort of laughter.
Kael looked back and forth between the two boys.
“I’ve built ships for twenty years.” He pointed at Justus.
“You’re the strangest swordsman I’ve ever met.” Then he pointed at Daemon.
“And you’re the strangest marksman I’ve ever met.”
Daemon offered a quiet nod.
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know.”
By midday, the ship’s main deck was almost complete.
Justus walked around the wooden structure, examining the craftsmanship.
Kael trailed right behind him.
“Careful,” Kael muttered.
“Why?”
“You keep walking around like you own the place.”
Justus smiled.
“Maybe I do.”
“You paid me to build a ship.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t make you the owner of my yard.”
“It makes me emotionally invested.”
Kael laughed, shaking his head.
“You’re impossible.”
Justus placed a hand gently against the smooth wooden railing.
“What do you think?”
Kael looked up at the rising vessel.
“She’s coming together.”
“She?”
“Ships are always ‘she.'”
“Why’s that?”
Kael shrugged.
“Because they make men spend all their money, and then still expect them to love them.”
Justus burst out laughing.
“That’s actually true.”
Daemon walked over, stepping onto the planking.
“What’s true?”
Kael pointed at the ship.
“He’s learning.”
Daemon looked over at Justus.
“That’s dangerous.”
Justus frowned.
“Why?”
“Because the last time you learned something, you started taking the Abyssal Route.”
Justus pointed an accusatory finger at him.
“That happened once!”
“Once was enough.”
Kael looked between them, eyebrow raised.
“Abyssal Route?”
Justus immediately turned on his heel and walked away.
“Nothing happened.”
Daemon followed right behind him.
“You nearly died.”
“I survived.”
“You almost became fish food.”
“Still survived.”
Kael stared after them as they bickered down the length of the deck.
“I have a feeling I’m going to hear a lot of stories from you two.”
Daemon looked back over his shoulder.
“If this guy’s involved, you will.”
That afternoon, a group of traveling bounty hunters arrived at the harbor.
They were talking loudly, drawing looks from the dockworkers.
One of them held a thick stack of parchment reward rolls.
Justus barely paid them any attention—until he heard a familiar name spoken across the docks.
“…Justus Xavier.”
He stopped in his tracks.
Daemon noticed the sudden shift immediately.
“What?”
Justus glanced sideways toward the group.
“They said my name.”
Daemon’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing.
They casually drifted closer without drawing attention to themselves.
The lead traveler held up one of the posters for his companions to see.
“The Guardians have increased the rewards again,” the man said.
Another man whistled.
“How much this time?”
The traveler checked the bold ink at the bottom of the top sheet.
“One hundred and twenty million.”
The small group went dead silent.
Justus’s expression shifted slightly.
Daemon stared over at him.
“That’s a lot,” Daemon muttered under his breath.
Justus kept his eyes on the paper.
“Apparently.”
The traveler read off the details aloud.
“Justus Xavier Tempest.
One hundred and twenty million gold pieces.” He flipped the poster around to show the crowd.
The drawing was crude, but recognizable enough.
Beneath it was a second bounty poster.
The man frowned, reading the second sheet.
“And they raised his partner’s too.” He squinted at the text.
“Daemon…
one hundred million last time he had Eighty million.”
Justus looked sideways at Daemon with a slight smirk.
“Hey, they spelled your name correctly.
Though it looks like I’m still worth twenty million more than you.”
Daemon shrugged indifferently.
“It just means they think you’re twenty million more annoying.”
Justus cracked a quick smile, but the traveler kept reading.
“Both wanted alive.”
Daemon’s small smile vanished.
“Alive?”
“Interesting.”
The traveler suddenly lowered the paper, noticing the two teenagers standing nearby watching him.
“You two know them?”
Justus put on a relaxed, innocent smile.
“No.”
Daemon glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.
“That’s a terrible lie.”
Justus shrugged softly.
“I’m still practicing.”
The travelers eventually moved on toward the local tavern.
Kael, who had watched the entire exchange from the edge of the drydock, walked over with a heavy expression.
“You’re wanted,” Kael said flatly.
Justus turned to him.
“Looks that way.”
Kael folded his thick arms over his chest.
“One hundred and twenty million for you…
and another hundred million for the kid with the rifle.”
“Apparently.”
“Do you understand how much money two hundred and twenty million gold actually is?”
Justus thought for a second.
“Enough to buy several ships?”
Kael stared at him, deadpan.
“Enough to buy this entire shipyard, the harbor, and half the town.”
Justus’s eyes widened slightly.
“Really?”
Kael nodded.
“Several times over.”
Daemon looked over at Justus.
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t going to!”
“You were.”
“I was just thinking!”
“That’s worse.”
Kael let out a long, heavy sigh.
“I don’t even want to know what goes through your head.”
Justus offered a sheepish grin.
“Probably money.”
Kael shook his head, looking them both over.
“You two really are high-value targets.”
Daemon looked at him plainly.
“You just figured that out?”
Kael stared at Daemon, then suddenly let out a sharp laugh.
“You know what?
I don’t even care.”
Justus raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t?”
“No,” Kael said, looking over at the rising hull of their ship.
“As long as you don’t bring the Guardians knocking on my shipyard door.”
Justus smiled warmly.
“Deal.”
Daemon looked at him sternly.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Kael pointed at Daemon.
“See?
That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”
Two days later…
Three men in non-descript traveling clothes approached the shipyard gates.
They wore simple cloaks—no Guardian insignia, no official crests, no military armor.
Kael was the first to spot them walking through the open drydock.
He glanced over at Justus.
“Friends of yours?”
Justus shook his head, his hand casually coming to rest near his hip.
“No.”
Daemon was sitting on a crate near the edge of the yard.
His hand moved slowly toward the stock of his rifle.
“Don’t,” Justus murmured softly to him.
“You know them?” Daemon asked.
“No.”
“Then why shouldn’t I reach for my gun?”
Daemon kept his eyes locked on the three men.
“Because they haven’t stopped looking at us since they crossed the gate.”
Justus smiled slightly.
“Good observation.”
Kael frowned, sensing the sudden drop in air pressure.
“Should I call the harbor guards?”
Justus shook his head.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re wanted criminals they’re probably gonna try to arrest us as well.”
The lead man finally stopped several meters away.
His gaze swept over the yard before landing on Justus.
“We’re looking for someone,” the man said.
Justus gave a pleasant smile.
“Everyone is.”
“Two men,” the stranger continued.
“Very specific.”
“One carries a dark sword.”
Daemon’s hand tightened around his rifle grip.
“And the other?”
The man’s eyes shifted toward Daemon.
“A high-caliber rifle.”
Silence fell over the drydock.
Justus’s smile remained, though his eyes went cold.
“Sounds dangerous.”
The man nodded slowly.
“They are.”
Justus took a step forward.
“What did they do?”
The man’s jaw tightened.
“Too much.”
Justus let out a short laugh.
“That’s not much of an answer.”
The man suddenly reached inside his heavy coat.
CLICK.
Daemon raised his rifle in a flash, the barrel pointed dead center at the man’s chest.
“Don’t.”
The man froze in place.
Justus glanced at Daemon.
“Relax.”
Daemon didn’t lower the sight.
“I am relaxed.”
“You have a gun pointed right at his heart.”
“That’s how I relax.”
Kael stared at Daemon in absolute horror.
“You’re both completely insane.”
The three men exchanged quick, desperate looks.
The leader suddenly made a sharp dive, pulling a concealed dagger from his vest.
Justus moved instantly.
SCHWING!
Gryphon flashed from its sheath in a silver arc.
With a single precise strike, Justus knocked the blade cleanly out of the man’s hand.
BANG!
Daemon fired.
The heavy round struck the fallen dagger on the cobblestones, shattering the steel and sending the pieces spinning across the yard.
The other two men charged forward, drawing weapons.
Justus stepped directly into their guard.
The fight lasted less than thirty seconds.
A flash of martial skill, two heavy palm strikes, a swept leg, and a pommel strike to the jaw.
When the dust settled, all three men were unconscious on the ground.
Kael stared at the downed men, then at Justus, then at Daemon, who was casually blowing smoke from his barrel.
“You said you wouldn’t bring trouble here,” Kael said weakly.
Justus looked down at the unconscious bounty hunters, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I was wrong.”
Kael sighed deeply.
Later that evening, Kael sat on a bench outside the shipyard office with his arms crossed over his chest.
Justus sat beside him while Daemon leaned against the doorframe nearby.
Kael looked at them seriously.
“How long do you think this is going to keep happening?”
Justus knew exactly what he was asking.
“I don’t know.”
“They’ll keep coming for those bounties.”
“Probably.”
“And you’ll keep fighting them off.”
“Probably.”
Kael let out a long breath, staring at the night sky.
“Then I have one condition.”
Justus looked over at him.
“What is it?”
“No fighting on the ship once she’s finished and launched.”
Daemon nodded in immediate agreement.
“Reasonable.”
Justus looked at Daemon, surprised.
“You’re agreeing just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want blood stains on our deck before we even set sail.”
Kael smiled softly.
“Our deck, huh?”
Daemon shrugged lightly.
“We’re paying for it.”
Justus laughed.
“He’s got a point.”
Kael shook his head, a fond smirk on his face.
“You two have already started calling her yours.”
Justus turned his head, looking at the towering silhouette of the unfinished ship against the moonlight.
“Because she is.”
Kael’s smile softened.
“You guys will be the end of me.”
That same night, deep in the dark woods far outside the coastal settlement…
A small, hidden campfire crackled beneath the dense pine trees.
Rian sat alone by the flames, his hood pulled low.
The small communication device on his belt chimed and activated.
“Rian,” a voice spoke through the static.
He looked down, tapping the receiver.
“Captain Voss.”
Voss’s deep voice came through clearly.
“We’ve received another report from the northern coast.”
“About Justus?”
“Yes.”
Rian waited in silence.
“He defeated another group of independent hunters,” Voss reported.
Rian closed his eyes, leaning back against a tree trunk.
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Alive?”
“All three.
Knocked out, unarmored weapons destroyed.”
Rian let out a low sigh.
“He could have killed them easily.”
“He chose not to,” Voss noted coldness in his voice.
“That doesn’t change our standing orders.”
Rian looked out through the trees toward the distant lights of the harbor town.
“The bounties…
they’re officially confirmed?”
“Confirmed across all boards.”
Rian frowned.
“Justus is set at one hundred and twenty million gold?”
“Yes.”
“And Daemon?”
“One hundred million.”
Rian’s expression shifted slightly.
“So Command raised Daemon’s bounty close to Justus’s level, but still considers Justus the primary target.”
“That’s the decision of the Higher ups.”
Rian stared into the fire.
“Why?
Daemon’s dangerous, but Justus is—”
“You ask too many questions, Rian,” Voss cut him off sharply.
“Because nobody in High Command is giving me real answers!” Rian snapped back quietly.
A heavy silence lingered over the line.
Finally, Voss spoke again.
“Continue observing them.”
“From a distance?”
“Yes and don’t loose them like you did last time.”
“And if they set sail?”
“Follow them.”
Rian frowned deeply.
“And if I lose their trail at sea?”
Voss’s tone dropped to a chilling whisper.
“Then don’t lose them.”
The communication cut out with a click.
Rian stared at the dark device in his hand, then looked back toward the distant shipyard.
“Just what are you two hiding?” he muttered to himself.
Back at the Ironwave drydock, Justus sat high on the unfinished wooden deck, his legs dangling over the edge.
Daemon climbed up the staging and sat down beside him.
For a long time, neither of them said anything, just listening to the distant crash of the ocean waves.
Finally, Justus broke the silence.
“One hundred and twenty million…”
Daemon nodded slowly.
“And one hundred million.”
“You know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“We haven’t even done anything that impressive lately.”
Daemon glanced over at him.
“We survived Blackridge.
We survived your maniac brother Kraven.”
“So?”
“That’s usually considered impressive.”
Justus laughed quietly.
“Look at you, getting all philosophical.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
Justus leaned back against the timber frame, looking up at the stars.
“You really think we’re worth that much money?”
Daemon looked out toward the dark horizon.
“No.”
Justus raised an eyebrow.
“No?”
“I think they’re terrified of us mostly you than me,” Daemon said plainly.
“People don’t put a price tag like that on someone just because they’re dangerous.
They put it there because they’re afraid.”
Justus went quiet, his hand resting lightly against Gryphon’s pommel.
“Maybe.”
Daemon looked directly at him.
“Whatever it is they’re so afraid of…”
He paused, his voice dropping slightly.
“…we should probably figure it out before they catch up to us, we should know why they’re quick to raise your bounty like that.”
Justus offered a confident, steady smile.
“Yeah.” He looked out over the bow of their half-built ship.
“First, we finish building this.”
Daemon nodded.
“Then we leave.”
“And then we find out why they want you so badly.”
Far out beyond the harbor, another ship cut through the pitch-black waters, heading north.
A secret message was being carried directly to the higher-ups.
The Guardians had failed to catch them by force, failed to track them in the mountains, and the massive bounties had only succeeded in drawing unwanted attention to the boys.
The mandate from the Higher ups remained crystal clear:
> Track them.
> Watch them.
> And above all else—do not do anything that could make Dragon Tempest an enemy of the Guardians.
Meanwhile, in Kael’s shipyard, the vessel grew closer to completion with every passing day.
And neither Justus nor Daemon knew that before they ever weighed anchor on the northern coast…
a new face was about to step into their world.