The night deepened.
Moonlight bathed the academy island in silver.
Most students had already returned to their dormitories.
Some studied.
Some slept.
Others wasted precious hours discussing today's Leviathan incident.
Meanwhile.
A masked young man wandered through the island's districts.
No one recognized him.
No one connected him to Aedon Flinth.
No one suspected that the academy student who attended lectures every morning was currently conducting an investigation through the city.
Kel adjusted the black mask covering the lower half of his face.
His dark cloak concealed his academy uniform.
Only his golden eyes remained visible.
Calm.
Patient.
Observant.
Inside his mind—
Seiren spoke lazily.
"You could simply investigate the ocean again."
"Evidence exists on land."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then I wasted one evening."
The Guardian laughed.
"Most people call that inefficient."
"I call it confirmation."
The marketplace district remained active despite the late hour.
Night merchants still operated.
Food stalls emitted warm light.
Travelers exchanged stories.
Sailors spent money they should have saved.
And information flowed more freely than alcohol.
Which was exactly why Kel came here first.
The best information rarely existed in libraries.
It existed among people.
Especially people who never realized they were sharing information.
Kel stopped before a seafood stall.
The old owner was currently cleaning fish while chatting with nearby customers.
Kel ordered a simple meal.
Then casually sat nearby.
Listening.
Observing.
Waiting.
Eventually.
The conversation shifted toward today's events.
Naturally.
"Those Leviathans have gone mad."
"Never seen them attack this often."
"Maybe they're multiplying."
The stall owner snorted.
"You don't know anything."
Several customers looked interested.
The old man continued.
"Leviathans don't attack for no reason."
Kel quietly memorized that.
Interesting.
One customer asked.
"Then why attack now?"
The old man shrugged.
"Something disturbed them."
A simple answer.
But one worth noting.
After finishing his meal.
Kel casually asked.
"Old man."
The owner looked up.
"Hm?"
Kel leaned slightly forward.
"If someone wanted to hunt Leviathans."
A pause.
"What would they gain?"
The old man blinked.
Then laughed.
"Hunt Leviathans?"
Several nearby customers laughed too.
As though the question itself sounded ridiculous.
The owner shook his head.
"You don't hunt Leviathans."
"Why?"
"Because Leviathans hunt you."
Laughter erupted again.
Eventually.
The old man answered seriously.
"Their scales."
Kel listened.
"Their blood."
Another pause.
"Their bones."
The owner's eyes narrowed.
"And their cores."
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Kel continued.
"Cores?"
The old man nodded.
"Ancient creatures accumulate mana over centuries."
A pause.
"The older the creature."
Another pause.
"The more valuable its core."
Kel mentally noted it.
Potential profit.
Potential motive.
Good.
After leaving the market.
He moved toward the harbor district.
This part of the island never truly slept.
Ships arrived constantly.
Merchants negotiated contracts.
Sailors drank.
Dockworkers worked.
And rumors traveled faster than ocean currents.
Inside a tavern overlooking the harbor.
Kel quietly occupied a corner table.
Several sailors were already discussing sea monsters.
Perfect.
A large bearded sailor slammed a mug onto the table.
"I'm telling you."
A pause.
"Nothing hunts young Leviathans."
Another sailor frowned.
"Nothing?"
The bearded man nodded.
"Nothing sane."
That answer immediately interested Kel.
A younger sailor asked.
"What about sea dragons?"
The older sailor shook his head.
"Too much effort."
Another asked.
"Giant Krakens?"
"No."
"Sea serpents?"
"No."
The sailor took another drink.
"Young Leviathans are guarded."
A pause.
"Protected."
Another pause.
"Difficult prey."
Kel's eyes narrowed.
Exactly.
That was the problem.
Something capable of repeatedly stealing young Leviathans wasn't ordinary.
Not remotely ordinary.
Eventually.
Kel joined the conversation.
"What could do it?"
The sailors looked toward him.
The masked stranger appeared harmless enough.
One shrugged.
"If something is hunting young Leviathans repeatedly..."
A pause.
"It must be intelligent."
Another sailor nodded.
"Very intelligent."
A third sailor added:
"And powerful."
Kel mentally noted everything.
Then continued walking.
Hour after hour.
District after district.
He visited merchants.
Hunters.
Explorers.
Researchers.
Each conversation revealed small pieces.
Nothing complete.
Nothing decisive.
Yet gradually.
A pattern emerged.
Young Leviathans were difficult targets.
Natural predators rarely succeeded.
Most intelligent sea creatures avoided them.
The risk outweighed the reward.
Which left one possibility.
Inside his mind—
Seiren spoke softly.
"Humans."
Kel nodded.
"Humans."
Not ordinary humans.
Not merchants.
Not sailors.
Someone organized.
Someone knowledgeable.
Someone powerful.
Someone who understood the value of Leviathan materials.
Eventually.
Kel arrived in the scholar district.
Unlike the harbor.
Unlike the markets.
This district remained quiet.
Ancient stone buildings stood beneath moonlight.
Research halls glowed softly.
Libraries remained open.
Knowledge never slept.
Inside a small bookstore.
Kel found what he wanted.
An elderly researcher.
The man had spent decades studying sea monsters.
After purchasing several books.
Kel casually initiated conversation.
"Master."
The old scholar adjusted his glasses.
"Yes?"
Kel placed one book upon the counter.
A marine bestiary.
Then asked:
"What species regularly hunts young Leviathans?"
The scholar became thoughtful.
Several moments passed.
Then he answered.
"None."
The same answer again.
Interesting.
The scholar continued.
"At least."
A pause.
"None recorded."
Kel frowned slightly.
"Recorded?"
The old man nodded.
Then lowered his voice.
"There are stories."
Immediately.
Kel became interested.
Stories.
Legends.
Rumors.
Most were useless.
Some were priceless.
The scholar continued.
"Ancient records mention something."
A pause.
"Not a species."
Another pause.
"An individual."
Silence followed.
Kel's attention sharpened.
The old scholar opened an old notebook.
Yellow pages.
Faded ink.
Then pointed toward a passage.
"An unknown ocean hunter."
A pause.
"It appeared occasionally throughout history."
Another pause.
"Always near disappearances."
The atmosphere changed.
Kel stared at the page.
The scholar continued.
"Nobody knew what it was."
A pause.
"Nobody ever found it."
Another pause.
"Most researchers believe it's a myth."
The old man chuckled.
"Personally."
His eyes reflected moonlight.
"I think every myth begins somewhere."
Kel remained silent.
Inside his mind—
Seiren also became quiet.
The pieces were beginning to connect.
An unknown observer.
Missing Leviathans.
Ancient traces.
Historical records.
And now—
A recurring legend.
Eventually.
Kel purchased the notebook copy.
Then left.
The night air greeted him once more.
Moonlight illuminated the empty streets.
The academy island slept.
Yet Kel's mind remained active.
Very active.
Inside his mind—
Seiren finally spoke.
"What do you think?"
Kel looked toward the distant ocean.
Dark waves rolled beneath the moon.
Then he answered.
"Either someone is creating a myth."
A pause.
"Or the myth never disappeared."
The Guardian became silent.
Because both possibilities were equally troublesome.
And somewhere beyond the darkness.
Beyond the academy island.
Beyond the ocean horizon.
Something ancient was moving.
Something that had remained hidden for far too long.
And for the first time.
Kel finally had a direction to investigate.