The wind smelled like salt and something heavier—change.
Kira stood shirtless on the rocky cliff overlooking the sea, fists wrapped in tape, sweat dripping down his back. His body was hardened, sculpted by months of grinding. But inside, something still gnawed at him.
He wasn't made to follow orders.
He didn't dream of becoming a Marine.
And he sure as hell wasn't staying docked forever.
He turned from the cliffside to head back—when he saw her.
⸻
Floating.
A figure in the waves, drifting toward the rocky shore.
Long white hair spread out in the sea like moonlight. A slim figure barely held aloft by a broken piece of wood. A sword strapped to her back—, ancient-looking, but unmistakably forged with care. Her clothes were torn. Her skin pale from the cold.
Unconscious.
And beautiful.
She couldn't be more than nineteen, face soft and strong all at once, with features carved by fate rather than vanity. Her body had the lean build of someone who'd seen combat—but not recently. And now she was slipping beneath the surface.
Without thinking, Kira jumped.
⸻
The water was freezing.
He swam fast, arms slicing through the waves, grabbing hold of her before she could go under completely. Her body was light in his arms, but her sword added weight. He managed to sling it across his shoulder and carry her back to the rocks.
He pulled her out, laid her gently on the stone, and checked her breathing.
It was there—weak, but steady.
He looked closer at her sword. The hilt was wrapped in deep crimson leather, worn but well-maintained, with silver threading that shimmered faintly under the light. The guard was shaped like wings in mid-spread, elegant but deadly. Along the flat of the blade, ancient runes had been etched
[Side Quest Triggered – "Princess of the Moon"]
Objective: A mysterious girl has washed ashore with an ancient sword and a story untold. Nurse her back to health, uncover her past, and prepare for what follows.
Reward: ???
⸻
Kira exhaled and stood up, glancing toward the sea. The waves were calm now, but his gut said they wouldn't stay that way.
Not for long.
He knelt beside the girl again, brushing a strand of white hair from her face.
"Well, I guess I've got my first crew member."
He smirked.
——
She woke with a start.
Kira had just finished hanging herbs in the corner of the small wooden cabin he'd built deep within the Shells Town woods when she sat bolt upright on the cot, eyes flashing silver.
Her hand flew to her back—her sword was gone.
"It's right there," Kira said calmly, nodding to where the worn blade leaned against the wall.
She looked at him, eyes narrow, breath steady despite her clear exhaustion. "You took it off me."
"I pulled you out of the ocean. You were about to drown with it strapped to you."
"…Fair."
She glanced around, sharp, calculating. Kira didn't miss the way her hand drifted just close enough to the hilt that she could lunge for it if needed.
"You've been out for a full day," he said, not moving. "Did what I could to warm you up. Fed you a little soup. You're welcome, by the way."
She looked him up and down. "You don't seem like a doctor."
"I'm not. I'm a pirate."
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Then we're not friends."
Kira chuckled and leaned back against the wall. "Didn't say we were."
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment—tense, wary.
Finally, Kira broke it. "Name?"
She hesitated… then answered, her voice steady.
"Veyra D. Aria."
Kira blinked. His ears caught it immediately—the D.
He didn't say anything. Just noted it. Filed it away.
Veyra watched his face carefully. When he finally spoke, it was simple.
"Kira. Raven D. Kira."
This time, it was her turn to pause. Her gaze sharpened, just a little.
Neither of them said a word about it.
But in their minds, it echoed.
Another D.
They didn't know what it meant—not yet.
But they both knew this much: it was never just a letter
Their eyes locked. Something passed between them in that instant—not trust, not yet, but understanding.
Kira leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. His voice was calm but curious.
"How'd you end up out there?"
Aria didn't answer right away. Her eyes were on the fire, flickering gold in the dim light. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, steady.
"I was on a passenger ship headed toward an island."
She drew a quiet breath, then continued.
"Didn't even make it halfway. Pirates hit us before sunrise. Not one crew—three. Like sharks drawn to blood."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the blanket.
"Most of the passengers panicked. Some tried to hide below deck. The crew… they did what they could, but they weren't ready for a real fight."
She looked toward her sword, propped against the wall.
"I couldn't just stand there. I grabbed what I had and started cutting through them. Deck was slick with water and blood before it was halfway done."
Her voice didn't shake. She wasn't bragging—just telling it like it happened.
"But we were outnumbered. Outgunned. By the time their last cannon fired, the hull was splitting apart beneath us."
She went quiet for a second, her silver eyes dull with the memory.
"I held on as long as I could. Until the mast cracked. Until the ocean tore the deck from under my feet. Then I was just… falling."
She gave a small, humorless laugh.
"I didn't even know which way was up. Just drifted. Could've been minutes. Could've been hours.Coud've been days."
Kira didn't say a word. He let the silence stretch.
Then she added, softly, "I didn't think anyone would find me."
He finally spoke. "But I did."
Aria met his gaze, quiet and unreadable. "Yeah. You did."
She didn't thank him. Didn't cry.
But she didn't look away, either.
And in that moment, Kira knew—she wasn't a survivor by luck.
She was still alive because even the sea couldn't break her.
——
Kira's voice was calm, but curiosity laced his words. "So… what's your dream?"
Aria didn't answer immediately. She stared into the fire, her silver eyes reflecting the dancing flames. For a long moment, it seemed like she was weighing her words, or maybe deciding if she even wanted to share them.
When she spoke, it was simple, but there was no hesitation in her tone.
"I want to be the strongest swordswoman in the world."
The weight of the statement hung in the air for a moment. Her gaze shifted slightly, catching Kira's eyes.
"I've fought my whole life to get better, to sharpen myself—physically and mentally. I won't stop until there's no one left to challenge me."
There was no arrogance in her words, just cold determination. No boastful pride, just a quiet conviction that ran deep.
"Everyone has their reasons for fighting. Some fight for money, for revenge, or for people they love. But I fight to be the best. Because if I'm the best… nothing will ever take me down."
Kira watched her for a long moment. She wasn't just a survivor. She was driven by something far deeper—something stronger than simple survival.
"I can respect that," Kira said quietly. "The world could use someone like you."
Aria's lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. "It's not about the world," she said, her voice steady. "It's about me. Being the best. Nothing else matters."
Kira considered her for a long moment, his mind working through the implications of her words. Then, without hesitation, he spoke.
"Then join me."
She looked at him, her silver eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to read him, figure out if he was serious.
"Why?" she asked, her voice wary.
"Because I'm looking for people with a drive like yours. I'm starting something. A crew. And you… you'd be a hell of an addition." He paused, his gaze unwavering. "We can help each other get stronger."
Aria's lips curled into a faint smile, but her eyes remained guarded. "I don't follow orders," she said, her tone direct. "And I don't do this for anyone but myself."
"I'm not asking you to follow me," Kira replied calmly. "I'm asking you to join me. To build something, not follow some empty command."
Kira continued, his voice low but steady, "I can't promise we'll all make it out. But I promise—you won't be forgotten."
She studied him for a long while, the tension between them almost palpable.
Finally, she nodded, just once, a small but meaningful gesture. "I don't need a captain. But… I'll consider it. For now."
Kira smirked slightly, a spark of satisfaction in his eyes. "Good. That's all I can ask."
They shared a look, both understanding the unspoken bond of two warriors—each driven by their own goals, but perhaps destined to clash, or to fight side by side.
Neither of them spoke again for a while, but something had shifted in the air. It wasn't trust yet, but it was something more—an understanding between two people who had been shaped by the same unforgiving world.
And for the first time, Aria didn't seem quite so alone.
——
Kira stood by the door, the fire's glow behind him casting flickering shadows across his face.
"Get some rest," he said, voice calm but kind. "We'll talk more in the morning."
He paused, hand on the doorframe.
"You're not gonna leave… right?"
Aria looked up from the cot, her silver eyes catching the firelight. There was a flicker of something softer beneath the exhaustion—a hint of peace, maybe.
"I won't," she said, and gave him a small, tired smile.
Kira held her gaze for a beat longer, then nodded once and stepped out into the night, the door closing quietly behind him.
——
Inside the cabin, silence settled again, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire.
Aria sat still for a long time, her gaze drifting toward the sword resting beside the wall—her constant companion through storms and betrayal, battles and silence.
She sighed quietly.
"I should've walked away," she murmured to herself, voice low. "Should've kept moving. Like always."
Her eyes softened.
"But… something's different this time."
She leaned back against the wall, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"He didn't laugh when I told him my dream. Didn't scoff, didn't try to use it. Just… listened."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
"Maybe it's foolish. Maybe I'm just tired."
Her fingers brushed against the edge of the blanket, gripping it lightly.
"But for now… I'll stay. Just a little longer."
She opened her eyes again, and this time, they held a quiet fire.
"If this Kira is serious… then I'll see where it goes."
She glanced at the sword once more.
——
As Kira walked through the moonlit woods, the night calm and quiet around him, a familiar soft chime echoed in his mind.
[Veyra D. Aria has joined your crew!]
Kira slowed his steps, the faintest grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"So… she made her choice," he muttered
[Quest completed - "Princess of the Moon"]
Rewards:
• +1000 EXP
• +4,500 Credit
[Bonus Reward – Mythical Loot Box]
He raised a brow. "Well, that's new."
The loot box pulsed once—bright, golden light spilling into the air like sunrise cracking open.
Kira squinted, shielding his eyes as the system's voice echoed in his mind
[Loot Box Opened…]
[Reward: Leviathan Axe – Mythical Grade]
[Leviathan Axe]
Rarity: Mythical
Item Type: Weapon
Description:
"Crafted by legendary dwarven smiths, this weapon was made to challenge gods. Cold to the touch and heavier than steel should be, the Leviathan Axe does not roar—it whispers doom with every swing. Its blade holds ancient runes that hum when blood is near, and its weight speaks only in broken shields and shattered spines.
The axe does not age. It does not rust.
It remembers.
And if it chooses you—you become the storm."
Then the light snapped inward.
And the axe dropped into his hands like thunder.
Heavy. Cold. Powerful.
The polished edge gleamed with frost as runes lit up along the blade—ancient symbols pulsing slow and steady, like a heartbeat carved into steel.
Kira stared.
"…No way," he whispered, gripping the hilt. "No actual f***ing way."
He lifted it with both hands, the weight solid, grounding, perfect. It hummed with something primal, something older than time—like a sleeping beast waiting to be unleashed.
He gave it a light swing.
The air split.
Frost hissed from the edge as if the world itself flinched.
Kira burst out laughing. Loud, almost unhinged. The kind of laugh that came when the universe actually handed you something insane for once.
"This is real," he said, breathless. "This is actually real. I just got Kratos' axe."
He grinned. Wide. Kid-on-Christmas wide.
He looked at the axe again, awe in his eyes.
And then, just to try it, he threw it.
The axe spun end over end with a high, wicked whistle, burying itself deep in a boulder across the clearing with a bone-cracking crunch.
"Damn," Kira whispered.
He raised one hand.
"Alright… let's see if this part's real."
He called it.
The axe ripped free from stone like it was never meant to stay there. It rocketed back to his hand, handle-first, slapping into his palm with perfect, instinctive weight.
"Okay, okay—listen," he said aloud to no one, breathless. "I like hand-to-hand. I love martial arts. But let's be honest…"
He looked down at the axe.
"No man—no man—gets this in their hands and says no."
The frost along the edge pulsed. The axe seemed to agree.
He held it tight, then rested it over his shoulder, eyes sharp as the blade itself.
[Item Bound: Leviathan Axe]
"You called. It remembers."
Kira just smirked at the horizon.
"Let's see who remembers me."
———————————————————
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