After my momentary mental breakdown was "dealt with" (bottled up…), progress on OHOT has progressed fast. So fast that I was able to complete it within a week. This result is not due to the technique being easy to master. Not in the slightest. No, there was another reason.

Simply put, this technique and I meshed quite well, particularly due to HSM.

The notes in this technique's page of the grimoire state that the early stages of learning it are particularly difficult, specifically the intense on the spot calculations and re-adjustments. Luckily, it turns out that the main issue at the beginning is easily solved by simply slowing down one's perception of time. Easy, right?

Additionally, performing the technique itself (once all this is more natural) greatly benefits those with great reaction speeds and computation speeds, of which mine is instant.

Essentially, even IF you have the technical skill to perform OHOT, you may not be able to perform it in time or with precision while utilizing it defensively.

Thus, I was able to completely master it in record time (although, I did put my all into mastering it, which may not have been necessary). With the slight amount of time we had left in the ride, I opted not to begin training on the next 2nd Division technique I plan on mastering.

Said technique is Skidd, the same technique Nellyn used against Master. For a beginner, the spaces we had on the ship were either too full of people or too confined to practice without destroying something.

Morrissey also finished refining his base exactly on Master's estimate, and has been relentlessly focusing on raising his refinement level before we reach land.

On the topic of Morrissey, another oddity has been occurring lately.

It seems that he has grown… attached? To me, in particular. He still doesn't talk much, but he always refines just outside of where I am practicing, and has been sitting quite close to me when we eat.

Oddly enough, I don't find any overwhelming displeasures with it, yet it still makes me uncomfortable. One small observation that surprisingly made me chuckle had to do, oddly enough, with our hair colors. I have silver, almost white hair, and he has black hair. On the surface, it's nothing to pay attention to, but for me, it reminds me of a fairy tale back on earth. "The Ugly Duckling", where said "ugly duckling" follows a family of ducks, only to be ridiculed. However, this duckling eventually turns out to be a magnificent swan.

Obviously, his hair color isn't going to change from black to white, but enough similarities to the story were there for me to remind me of it. In the end, I feel obligated to allow the behavior to continue, as his complexion and energy has raised considerably since he's begun acting this way.

And who am I to take away his newfound "comfort"?

.

.

.

Out of the blue, I could hear a muffled voice from the deck yell, "Land ahoy! Land ahoy!"

Master had noticed it too, prompting us to send all of our stuff into our item compressors. Thankfully, Morrissey has also figured out how to stay alert while refining. So, while not instant, he stopped refining and joined us in walking up to the deck.

As expected, many of our fellow passengers reacted the same way and began packing up, some had seemingly packed up prior and were making their way to the deck with their luggage in tow.

Up on the deck, the crew was working diligently trying to make sure everything was in place before we docked. The three of us simply walked over to the front of the ship.

Master tapped on my and Morrissey's shoulders and whispered "Keep your presence low. The guards are annoying when they realize an outsider has an item compressor… and Morrissey over here is technically an escaped slave. Better safe than sorry."

I was planning on doing this anyway, since hiding my presence has slowly become something normal for me. The same is obviously true for Morrissey.

Slowly, despite how obviously uncomfortable and hyper alert everyone is around Master and me, they quickly lost track and seemed to forget our existence entirely, which was probably aided by the spectacle of the slowly approaching city.

It seems that Donnebay City takes Verres de Dramur far more seriously than the port city we left from. Even from our angle that only sees the docks, the decorations and bustling crowd was an eye-catching sight, especially compared to the endless sea we've been seeing for these past few weeks.

And when we docked, a much more surprising sight appeared before me.

Nearly every single individual was either riding, walking with, or carrying some form of Beast. Wait, no, there are even a few monsters! I know they can be tamed, but who would be crazy enough to allow them to roam the streets?

This oddity was definitely not mentioned in any of the books I've read on Orowen, yet it doesn't look new. The streets are evidently wide enough to house such crowds while still allowing space for carriages to pass by.

Morrissey had the same question as me, evidently, as he soon asked Master: "Why are there so many… animals?"

"It is simply a tradition over here," Master stated. "To elaborate would take some time, but the gist of it is; that Donnebay, and many of the surrounding cities were saved from annihilation by a certain manifesto user who could speak to beasts and monsters alike, although the true extent of his manifesto was never truly revealed, I'd bet that simply communicating with them wasn't the only thing he could do."

"Why was this information not in the colosseum's library?" I interjected.

"Beats me," he said.

Not even Master knows? Sigh, this trip is bringing up too many mysteries. He'll have some explaining to do once we get settled in an inn.

Finally, the captain of the ship gave the signal that we could exit the ship. The three of us silently melded into the center of the crowd, easily avoiding any guard's gaze.

"Master, we should start by cleaning up Morrissey," I suggested while gesturing towards him. "Even if nobody is looking for an escaped slave, his appearance is quite attention grabbing. People might ask unnecessary questions."

"I concur. If I remember correctly, there should be a place close to here that suits our needs. Let's see if it still exists."

"Wouldn't it? How long has it been since you've been there?"

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Well…

"I believe I was about your age… no, a little younger, and a lot dirtier- like Morrissey," he told me. "It was actually one of the first real establishments I visited after losing my home.

"Now, follow me."

Before we could ask any more questions, Master picked up the pace, but not enough to leave Morrissey in the dust.

The structures of this city are far closer to northern European architecture than the Roman architecture so prevalent in the Elephant continent. Coupled with the immense number of animals, and seemingly large population, the streets felt quite a bit more crowded than I am used to.

In particular, the animals made me quite uncomfortable. For the past five years, the only interactions I've had with them have been, to keep it PG, bad. It seems that this feeling is mutual. Apart from the reptiles, nearly every single animal got skittish or defensive as our trio passed by. The felines were the worst, with one house cat biting its owner in the nose for attempting to calm it down, and another, much larger feathered lion-like creature bucking its rider off its back.

I wonder… is this why this town has so many animals? It seems, despite not seeing, hearing, or feeling us, the animals can sense our presence instinctively. Some also would probably be able to smell us if not for the sheer number of individuals and animals roaming the streets, although I wouldn't be surprised if I'm wrong in that assumption. Besides, just because this area was saved by a manifesto user who had a power relating to animals wouldn't lead to something so widespread if there wasn't something else at play.

Abruptly, Master stopped in front of a corner shop. Morrissey was so close behind him that he couldn't react in time. However, I could, and quickly placed my hand on his shoulder, stopping his momentum.

"Is this the place, Master?"

"Thankfully, yes. You two walk around in there for a bit, I'm going to see if the owner is around," he said.

Morrissey and I nodded, following him inside. We were greeted by an extremely scattered and tightly packed store. Not with people, but clothes. It was nearly impossible to move through the store without brushing up against a rack or stack of them.

Who the hell could find anything specific in here?

…well, I could, but who else?

It was probably worse for Morrissey, who, due to his malnourishment, was quite short. So much so that he couldn't see above the plethora of hangars creating the maze that was this store. I imagine to him, it looks like we just walked into a rainforest made of clothes.

I could only perform a quick scan of it before Master walked out of a back-room with an older woman.

She told us her name was Maria, and was relatively shocked at the state of Morrissey.

"Oh honey! How long has it been since you've taken a bath?! And your hair!! Cysandoth…"

She looked over menacingly at Master, who put his hands up, pleading innocence, "Don't look at me! We've been at sea for a while, and we haven't had a chance to clean him up at all since we freed him!

"Oh yeah, little Morrissey here was a slave only a few short weeks ago."

Her gaze instantly softened, which made Master chuckle a bit. "Oh, Cysandoth boy, you never introduced the young lady."

"Yes, that's Öthe, my disciple. Don't get offended by her glare, I think it's permanent," he joked. I sent him a dissaprooving stare which he quickly ignored with a chuckle.

"Anyways, let's get Morrissey cleaned up. We're on a tight schedule."

.

.

.

"What a cutie!" Maria squealed in a tone a bit too high for her age.

Morrissey's head was down in embarrassment, and his ears were flushed pink. He was evidently uncomfortable with the attention and amount of clothes, of which he probably had never worn.

Hmm, it seems he won't voice this concern. I don't want him to perform worse because of this, and besides, she's basically playing dress up with him! He isn't a Ken-doll.

"Ms. Maria, it seems that these clothes are too restrictive for Morrissey's taste. Would it be possible for him to wear something a little more open?" I asked.

His eyes shined, but hers dimmed. Still, she relented since his uncomfortability wasn't hidden well. "I guess so…"

She scurried off to one side of the store and snatched a few clothing items.

"Preferably black" I interjected.

She nodded, and walked back without picking anything else out. "I guessed so. Over here, honey, let's try these on," she beckoned.

Morrissey complied silently, and a bit later, he walked back out looking much more comfortable. She ended up picking out a form fitting sleeveless shirt and comfortable looking shorts that had what seemed to be an elastic band keeping it up. The top was black, but the shorts were a dark gray, so they complimented him well. In addition, she found him light and thin athletic sandals that didn't ride too much up on his leg, opting to forgo any socks.

Master and I nodded. "Much better," he said. "Maria, could you also get some cloaks for the two of them? The three of us aren't necessarily on a vacation over here."

She thought for a second, and then nodded her head. She essentially dove into a lake of clothes, coming out with two cloaks, one small and one my size. By my observation, they should fit us two perfectly. Impressive, to get our measurements so well just by looking at us.

With that, and a few more backup outfits purchased, we took our leave. Thankfully, no extra trip was needed, as right across the street was the inn Master chose for us to stay the night.

Surprisingly, there were rooms still open despite the festivities, enough for us to be able to pick from a few open rooms. Naturally, we chose the open corner room as it is far safer than the alternatives.

"*Click*"

Master locked the door and sat us down.

"Okay, now that we are in an enclosed space, I am going to lay out our plans for the upcoming journey," Master said. "First, I am going to lay out some expectations.

"Initially, apart from the typical dangers of this country, I had no reason to believe that I had any target on my back, at least not one I didn't already know of. However, it seems an unknown variable has come into play, and I won't lie and say I know how dangerous they are."

"You're talking about the people who contracted the pirates, no?" I queried.

"Precisely. Somehow, despite Ottoman's deep and vast connections within the underworld, he had no concrete information on this organization," he said with a conflicted look on his face. "I would prefer to be safe rather than sorry, so we are going to take extra precautions. Said precautions will, no doubt, slow us down considerably." He pulled out a map from his item compressor and laid it out on the ground.

"This is a map of the Wolf continent, and right now we are here-" he pointed "around the central section of Orowen's east coast, in Donnebay. Now, initially, I was planning on taking the shorter route to Illianor in the North, but that's now too obvious. If it were just Öthe and me, maybe we could have pulled it off, but now with Morrissey, our best bet is to give us as much time as we can to build up power in case this organization is a considerable threat."

"With this in the equation, instead of a 3 to 6 month ordeal with just Öthe and me, it has ballooned up to, by my estimations, a nearly 18 month operation in the worst case."

Damn! "18 months?! 6 was already a lot! If we waste that much time, how will we get anything out of investigating your master's death?" I exclaimed.

"While it does mess up some of the investigation, much of it should be nearly unaffected by this time sink. Particularly, my Master's outpost. She had a habit of journaling every day. So long as we are able to retrieve her journal, our efforts should be rewarded with answers, or at least a point in the correct direction."

I see, so the whole time, the journal was the goal. Unless this "outpost" is easy to find, a journal should survive a few months delay. Besides, how probable is the worst case really?

I can't imagine we're that unlucky.

"Since we all are now on the same page, we can stop talking about the future and discuss the now. First, Öthe and I are going to collect information on our immediate surroundings whenever we stop at any settlement, big or small, starting now. Morrissey, for the foreseeable future, you will train as hard as you can any chance you get. Take care not to make yourself known."

Morrissey nodded with a tense expression, which I equated to his relative weakness and the fact that he is… well… 11.

I should know, as I probably have the most data on the subject out of anyone, seeing as I've lived through the age of 11 twice.

Master didn't have much more to discuss. After he finished, the two of us jumped out of the window, leaving Morrissey to his devices. Without being seen, nor heard, we slipped in and out of multiple groups of crowds. Master was obviously leading us somewhere, and eventually, my suspicions were proven correct.

We now stood in front of an inconspicuous building. Well, if it weren't in the slums, it wouldn't be.

Its door was completely off its hinges, and all but one window was broken, and said surviving window wasn't in the greatest shape either. Many of the walls also had holes or had already collapsed.

"Is this where we are going to look for information?" I asked, "I can't hear a damn soul in there."

"I… know. Odd, this place isn't supposed to look like this," he said with an unreadable look on his face.

"Really? Where are we, exactly?"

"Well… this is the information guild of Donnebay. Or, as it seems, used to be," he said, entirely as perplexed as I was. "Something's up. For all I knew, this place had no possible reason for closing willingly, it just made too damn much money. However, the alternative, that being that they were forcefully closed, is also unlikely. Multiple master martial artists worked here…"

Multiple! As in more than one… shit, he's right. Something has to be up. From how Master's acting, the latter option is what he's most considering.

"Follow me, and tread lightly, it may be a trap."

Master crouched down and began to get harder and harder to focus on. Sadly, I cannot perform Oblivion, so I was stuck with regular old sneaking around, if I could even call it that anymore. Stepping through the empty doorway, I saw something that apparently used to be a bar. The majority of the tables had been thrown haphazardly on the ground, not to mention the chairs and stools.

I activated HSM and did a quick scan over every nook and cranny visible to me. So far, I saw no traps or warning bells. "I don't see any traps."

The two of us pushed farther in, and while I rummaged through the bar at the front for any hidden compartments, Master checked the back. Still, despite our thorough search, nothing of worth was found. Seeing as there was no point continuing our search, Master and I made our leave.