Timeless Assassin

(The Timeless Ocean, A Few Minutes Later, Leonardo's POV)

The storm encompassed the entire fleet within mere moments, the sails suddenly fluttering, while torrential rain hit the upper deck.

*THUD*

*WOBBLE*

*THUNDER*

Waves crashed against the hull like fists, the ships groaning as their masts strained under the weight of lightning that clawed at the heavens.

Leonardo steadied himself by the rail, his cloak snapping wildly behind him as his heartbeat fought to keep pace with the storm.

The air shimmered faintly, and through the sound of thunder, something else began to whisper.

It was soft at first. Familiar.

"Leonardo, my boy…"

The voice came gentle, almost loving, curling into his ear like a memory from childhood. It was his grandmother's voice, the same tone that used to call him in from the courtyard for dinner, the same warmth he had missed dearly for these past few months.

He froze. His breath caught.

Then another voice followed, fragile but distinct.

"Leonardo, help me find my glasses, I've seemed to have misplaced them…"

The voice said, as Leonardo recognised it to be his grandfather.

The same man whose grave he had visited every month for the past couple years. The same man who had been his best friend growing up.

*WHOOSH*

*HOWL*

The wind howled louder, but somehow the whispers carried through it, clear as thought, weaving themselves into the rhythm of the storm, as Leonardo struggled to separate reality from fiction.

Across the deck, other sailors were beginning to hear their own ghosts as well, some crying, others laughing, a few whispering back as if they believed what they saw.

"Honey, I swear it wasn't me who ate the last piece…." one man called out, looking terrified of whatever he saw.

"Liora? Is that really you?" cried another, tears streaming down his cheeks as he staggered toward the edge of the deck.

"DONT LISTEN TO THE VOICES! KEEP YOUR HEADS ABOUT YOURSELVES, LADS!"

Mickey James's roar tore through the madness like a blade. His voice cut through the wind, shaking men from their trance as he gripped the mainmast, the mana around his body surging like fire.

But not all of them listened.

Two soldiers leapt overboard before anyone could stop them— one screaming, "Geneveve! I'm coming for you, my love!" and the other shouting, "Lord Dragon! I won't let you be humiliated! I'll protect your honor!"

Both disappeared instantly beneath the waves, their cries swallowed by the ocean's maw as the storm hissed and crackled above.

Leonardo pressed his palms against his temples, forcing the voices back, forcing himself to breathe.

His grandmother's tone lingered still… soft, pleading, calling him home.

But he told his mind that this could not be true.

That she was already dead and that it should not be hearing her voice.

Which helped him regain some semblance of clarity.

*WHIIISSSHHH*

At this point, the wind began to scream louder and the rain turned into a downpour so thick that the horizon vanished completely.

Sailors could no longer control the sails, while the entire ship trembled precariously from side to side.

"It's getting too dangerous…. We need to steer out of this storm, and fast—"

Leonardo muttered, however, there was no one around him to hear his voice.

Thankfully for him though, Anderson Silva moved through the storm, stepping to the bow of his ship, spear in hand, his mana flaring into a torrent of white-gold light that shone bright in the dark storm.

*SWOOSH*

*SLASH*

Each swing of his weapon carved through the storm, tearing through the illusionary haze as arcs of energy burst across the clouds.

The air cracked and the rain shifted, the world itself seeming to bend beneath the sheer precision of his control.

Leonardo watched, awestruck, as Anderson cut through the tempest one layer at a time, each strike peeling the storm open like tearing cloth.

Lightning struck him, but he didn't falter.

Winds howled, but he stood unwavering.

Until slowly but surely, he whittled the storm down, making it grow weaker and weaker.

A minute soon turned to twenty, and by the time his spear lowered, the clouds above had thinned into streaks of silver mist.

Silence followed. The sea leveled, its fury retreating into calm, as the light of the twilight sky bled softly through the clouds.

Anderson stood still at the prow, his cloak drenched, his expression unreadable, while Mickey's laughter echoed faintly from across the deck.

Leonardo exhaled, steadying his breath, as he stared at the sky that had tried to break them and failed, as he realized just how dangerous such expeditions could really be.

If not for their fleet having two Monarchs on board, such a storm would most likely claim a lot more lives than just two, as Leonardo realized just how strong one had to be to level the odds in their favor, in a ruthless world such as this.

The realization sank into him like a slow tide, cold and unrelenting. Power was everything in this world. It decided who lived, who led, and who vanished nameless into the depths. No amount of kindness or talent mattered without it.

Watching Anderson stand against the storm alone, cutting through what seemed divine in nature, Leonardo finally understood what separated men like him from the rest.

It was not birthright, nor skill, nor destiny. It was will, the kind that refused to yield even when the heavens themselves turned hostile.

He clenched his fists, staring at his own trembling hands. Despite being a Grandmaster, he knew he was still too weak to change anything, too weak to command the sea, the sky, or fate.

"If this is what true strength looks like," he muttered under his breath, "then I'm nowhere close."

The thought stung, yet it ignited something within him, a flicker of resolve that burned brighter than fear.

He would not settle for comfort, or for pride inherited from another man's shadow.

He would chase that kind of power, the kind that could silence storms and illusions alike, even if it took him a lifetime to reach it.

For strength was not merely survival. It was freedom.