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📖 Journal of DeLuna — Special Entry: The Blood of Dravenholt


Blue.

Blue sky.

Blue sea.

Blue reflections.

Blue everywhere.

This endless blue hell truly has no end.

At this point I genuinely believe the ocean exists solely to torment me personally.

The waves are blue.

The horizon is blue.

The stupid curtains inside the cabin are blue.

Even the light somehow becomes blue after enough hours at sea.

I have developed something dangerously close to racism toward colors.

If I stay on this ship any longer I might physically attack the ocean.

Today is the seventh day.

Ryn has been locking herself inside her cabin for seven entire days.

I still do not know what exactly happened inside her mind after leaving Isla de la Luna, but whatever it is must be catastrophic.

Sometimes I hear crashing sounds from inside.

Sometimes silence.

Honestly the silence feels more dangerous.

Still…

For a brief moment today, I forgot my hatred toward the color blue.

Unfortunately that happened because I witnessed something so horrifying that my soul temporarily prioritized survival over emotional instability.

Earlier this afternoon I went fishing with Uncle Kael.

He said we would arrive at Leviathan Fort soon.

I caught a swordfish today.

Very large.

We grilled it together afterward and ate while sitting near the edge of the ship.

It was delicious.

Actually maybe that is why I survived today emotionally.

Protein.

Ah.

That is not the important part.

I got distracted again.

This morning, because boredom was slowly dissolving my sanity, I wandered toward the deck after hearing loud noises from above.

A lot of crew members were gathered there.

Shouting.

Laughing.

Somebody screamed dramatically.

I saw Uncle Kael standing on the second level overlooking the lower deck, so because I am unfortunately short, I walked toward him for a better view.

And then I witnessed something deeply unnatural.

There were many men below.

According to Uncle Kael, they were new recruits for the Leviathan Fleet.

Some were lying on the floor gasping for air.

Some sat nearby waiting for their turn.

Several others were actively attacking someone with wooden practice swords.

Do you know who the target was?

Spathian.

Of course it was Spathian.

At this point absurdity simply follows him naturally like body odor.

The truly insane part was this:

He was only holding a spoon.

A literal spoon.

I genuinely thought I was hallucinating from excessive exposure to blue scenery.

But no.

One by one the recruits kept losing.

Falling.

Collapsing.

Sliding across the deck dramatically.

Meanwhile Spathian moved between them like he was dancing at a festival instead of fighting elite naval recruits.

And the entire time he kept talking.

Nonstop.

About leverage.

Momentum.

Center of gravity.

Material stress.

Timing.

Energy efficiency.

Attack angles.

At one point he started explaining rotational force while disarming someone using a spoon.

A SPOON.

The recruits looked increasingly annoyed while Spathian himself remained completely relaxed.

Smiling even.

I asked Uncle Kael if the recruits were beginners.

He looked confused and said no.

Apparently recruits chosen for the Leviathan Fleet are already considered elite before arriving here.

Which means Spathian was casually humiliating elite soldiers using dining utensils.

I no longer understand this world.

Then Ryn arrived.

And unfortunately this is where the true horror began.

She walked onto the deck carrying an actual saber.

Not a wooden one.

A real saber.

Before I could even process what was happening—

She attacked Spathian.

Actually attacked him.

Full force.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

The recruits scattered backward.

Several crew members physically evacuated the area.

I panicked and looked toward Uncle Kael expecting him to stop this immediately because he is literally a High Admiral.

Instead he sighed.

SIGhed.

Then calmly said:

“Let Spathian handle it.”

What does that even mean.

Handle WHAT.

His own execution?

Ryn attacked like a demon.

That is the only accurate description.

Until today I knew she was skilled with swords.

Trained.

Elegant.

Controlled.

This was not that.

This was violence powered entirely by emotional collapse.

Her attacks became faster and heavier every minute.

Meanwhile Spathian somehow kept dodging and parrying using the spoon.

THE SPOON.

At one point Uncle Kael muttered something called “riposte” after Spathian redirected one of Ryn’s strikes.

Which only made her angrier.

I genuinely think sea demons temporarily possessed her body.

There is no other explanation.

The duel continued for a very long time.

Ryn became increasingly terrifying.

Spathian continued spinning around her casually discussing leverage and momentum like an insane university lecturer trapped inside a battlefield.

Then something happened that permanently damaged my sense of safety.

Ryn suddenly threw away her saber.

At first I thought she gave up.

Then I saw her face.

I have never seen an expression like that before.

If demons exist, they probably look like that.

She rushed forward so fast even Spathian looked surprised.

Then she tackled him to the floor.

Mounted him.

And started repeatedly punching his face.

Not elegant punches either.

Pure violence.

Ground and pound.

Actual savage brutality.

I completely froze.

I could not move.

When I looked toward Uncle Kael again, even he looked pale.

No crew member dared interfere.

Not one.

After what felt like forever, Ryn finally stood up.

Spathian’s face looked completely destroyed.

Then Ryn spat beside him and walked away.

Just walked away.

Like a storm leaving the sea.

I still cannot remove that image from my head.

Especially the expression on her face.

I think if I close my eyes tonight I will see it again.

Which feels unfair because I personally did nothing wrong.

Probably.

Later while eating swordfish, Uncle Kael admitted the incident awakened something he had not felt in many years.

Fear.

Then suddenly he started talking about Madam Roderick.

Apparently watching Ryn lose control reminded him of childhood trauma.

I became confused because as far as I knew Madam Roderick bullied people verbally.

When I said that, Uncle Kael looked at me silently for several seconds before saying one word:

“Physical.”

Apparently Madam Roderick’s real name is Seraphine Dravenholt.

Lady Sera.

And according to Uncle Kael, when she was younger she was an absolute menace.

Especially in hand-to-hand combat.

People avoided provoking her because she was apparently terrifyingly brutal.

I was shocked.

The Madam Roderick I know is elegant and refined and graceful.

Uncle Kael shook his head and said:

“That’s Sera now.”

Apparently even during her academy years studying military logistics and strategy, she was still horrifying.

According to Uncle Kael, only Master Roderick possessed enough courage to approach her normally.

Honestly…

The more I learn about the Roderick family, the less normal they become.

Maybe wealth is simply what happens when terrifying people cooperate long enough.

After hearing all this, I made an important life decision.

If I ever stay at Roderick Port again, I will behave properly.

I will organize my belongings.

I will fold blankets correctly.

I will never leave random books on the floor again.

I suddenly understand survival instincts on a spiritual level.

I still have not seen Ryn again since the incident.

I am honestly too afraid to approach her right now.

Spathian is apparently resting inside the medical room.

Which means even after all THAT he somehow survived.

Unbelievable man.

I truly hope I do not dream about demon-faced Ryn tonight.

Especially not because of messy rooms.

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