Captain Edmund Law was a strong and proud man. He honored his role to the fullest. He embodied it. If Keziah was asked what a sea captain looks like, an image of Edmund Law would pop into his mind. He took his job with utmost seriousness but also allowed himself to let off some steam with his crew from time to time. He respected his crew. It was a big reason why they respected him so much. He knew how to keep his distance, though. There were clear boundaries set between his crew and him. He wasn't their friend; he was their captain. Their leader. Their savior.

He had the air of a stern, older gentleman around him, despite being only around 10 years older than Keziah. He commanded attention, but not all the time. He had the ability to not be too overbearing with it, as if he was completely aware of it.

There was also something else in his character that stuck out to Keziah. There was a certain… jovialness behind his eyes. It felt like the captain was playing the role of the unyielding man. It felt like there was a swashbuckling youth, ready to jump on a rope to board a ship inside of him. This bit of his character that resonated with his crew gave him all the more humanity. And all this humanity made the times when he was serious and stern all the more imposing.

He carried himself with the self-assurance that Keziah immediately placed a military background on him. His clothes also spoke to that theory. Old and worn, but kept clean and taken care of. Adorned with golden buttons and epaulets, it felt like he took his old military long jacket with him when he retired from the military.

Said jacket was deep blue, not quite the same color as the one that soldiers of Aldunis wear. He wore it unbuttoned, with a loose, gray shirt underneath, tied at a waist with something that looked like a black sash. His boots were equally a status symbol — as not every sailor could afford fine leather boots — and practical.

All in all, the man seemed wasted as a captain of a simple merchant vessel to Keziah. The man clearly had mounds of experience. Was still young, especially for a commander or a leader, and was in great shape physically as far as Keziah could see. No round belly that often came around his age, nor were there any signs of illness that could block him from any more ambitious posts.

Keziah didn't think that he was rolling in money either, judging by the cargo they were transporting. They were mostly common goods. Food, wine, clothes, and fabric. Certainly enough of it to supply a whole crew, but not to be considered rich. Keziah just couldn't shake the feeling that Edmund Law was being wasted here.

On the other hand, Edmund seemed to absolutely love his work, even if some bookkeeping appeared to be bothersome to him. And if that was the case, then Keziah could do nothing but accept the waste of potential for personal satisfaction.

After all, it was what he did best.

"Good day, innit?" Keziah greeted Edmund while peeling his orange.

Edmund raised his head from the conversation he had with his navigator over a map to take a look at Keziah.

Keziah didn't know what they were discussing, but it was most probably about what route to pick, or maybe about potential changing weather conditions. Either way, it didn't seem that important, so Keziah felt no shame in interrupting it. Maybe if it was someone with a little more dignity than him they would, but Keziah didn't mind walking on the edge of driving someone mad. He tested their limits. Oftentimes, knowing exactly what makes someone tick is the single most valuable piece of information about them.

Edmund told something to his navigator that Keziahs couldn't quite overhear, and the thin-looking man in glasses nodded to him — almost bowed — and rolled the map over which they were talking. He walked away to resume his other tasks, Keziah guessed.

"What makes it so good to you?" Edmund asked with genuine curiosity. His limit of annoyance was either really high or he just hid it well.

"What's not to like?" Keziah leaned against the railing, seawater sprinkling over his body gently. "Blue sky, cool air, not having to smell piss every time I pass by somebody…" Keziah tossed the peel over the railing and to the sea, grabbing the first victim of the tightly hugged orange family.

"Great reasons, all," agreed Edmund. "The toilet being somewhat expansive is a big advantage, I must agree."

"Yeah, you are onto something with this whole sailing thing, I will give you that," said Keziah, reaching for another piece of the orange.

Edmund chuckled, but still stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Another habit from his military days, Keziah guessed.

"Our voyage has been quiet so far, wouldn't you say?" Keziah asked.

"Were you expecting my crew to be troublemakers?" Edmund answered with a question of his own.

"Forgive me, but sailing men aren't known to be the most honorable." Keziah slowly made his way through half of the orange.

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"They are not, aren't they?" Edmund agreed with Keziah. "Hard to maintain discipline as one man against forty with nowhere to escape to."

"I would imagine so." Keziah chewed on the sweet fruit.

"But the fact that we are in all but name stranded in a world of water can be used to inspire loyalty and cooperation as well as it can lead to a successful mutiny," said Edmund, his long jacket waving lightly in the wind.

"How so?" Keziah asked. His expression could be described as disinterested, but he was listening carefully.

"Well, with nowhere to go, the only way that these men make it out alive is through understanding that they need to work together. One man cannot operate an entire ship, no matter how skilled of a sailor he is."

"Hmm." Keziah ran a tongue across his teeth and picked something from them with his nail. "And what about the 'loyalty' part?" He flicked what he had picked off.

Edmund's brow twitched ever so slightly. "Perhaps you would try to guess as to why? If you stop pretending to be a halfwit, that is," he said, his tone colder.

Keziah smirked. So he does have a limit of annoyance, he thought. He finished the rest of the orange and threw the pith overboard, wiping his hands against each other. "Because someone has to lead. The cogs do the work, but someone has to make them move and oil them to run smoothly. If you prove that you are the best man for the job, the potential wish of an ambitious sailor gets overwhelmed by a desire to get the job done and arrive at a port in one piece. Prince and repeat a few times and you've got yourself earned trust and respect, which then transforms into loyalty."

"Very good," said Edmund, satisfaction on his face. "It sounds as if you speak from experience."

"Just some logic and observation," Keziah said, leaning against the railing with crossed arms.

"You're saying that everyone would come to that conclusion?"

"Oh, no. Not at all." Keziah shook his head. "Those two skills are surprisingly hard to find in people, despite them not requiring any prerequisites. And people who can make actual use of those skills? Even rarer."

"That sounded a little arrogant, don't you think?" Edmund raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Keziah simply replied.

Edmund snickered. "At least you're honest."

"That's my second worst quality." Keziah pointed with his right-hand finger, not breaking his crossed arms.

"Worst?" Edmund asked, addled. "And second? What's the number one then?"

"My ability to lie about anything, including my worst qualities," Keziah stated, his face the same shade as when he was chewing on orange slices. "But don't tell anyone. It's a secret." He put his hand to his face, as if whispering, and leaned slightly in the direction of Edmund.

Edmund let out a small but hearty laugh. "I must say, it's nice to talk to someone new from time to time. Don't get me wrong, I love my men. Would give my life for them. But most of them I either already know so well that I can predict entire conversations in my head. And the rest I would rather not have that ability with. They are good men, but… well, let's just say that this profession attracts all sorts of people."

Keziah looked to his right and down the main deck, observing the sailors. "Yeah… I can probably even guess which ones you are referring to."

"If you are worried about your young charges, then fear not," Edmund reassured him. "They are rough around the edges, but they aren't scoundrels. Otherwise, they wouldn't be here. I hand-picked this entire crew. I know them."

"Oh, I'm not worried about them at all." Keziah waved his hand dismissively. "If there is anything I'm worried about is that we are in dangerous waters right now. Far from main ports, contested territorial waters, and some riots in the biggest port town on the south coast — and coincidentally the city we are going to — all point to pirates to me. If anything, I'm surprised you don't look worried about it at all."

Edmund puffed air through his nose and showed a confident smirk. "On that front, you can also not tire your head about."

"What? Do you have some kind of deal with local pirates? Some tithe for the passage?"

"Let's just say that it's a secret." Edmund put his hand to his mouth, mimicking what Keziah did earlier. "Don't tell anyone about it."

Keziah chortled and shook his head. "And I thought I was a bad influence only for two people on this ship."

Keziah spent the rest of the day sitting cross-legged on the main deck, close to where Annette and Scoyl were sparring during the midday. He was working on expanding his mana channels. He had all five of them unlocked. What he worked towards now was the birth of his Aura.

It was done by expanding all five mana channels to such an extent that filled and covered the entirety of the user's body. Not physically. They weren't like veins carrying blood through the circulatory system. They were more connected to the soul, or spirit, as the upper classes like to call it. It meant that the "filling the body" was more metaphorical, rather than an actual process of drawing oneself in mana. Imagination played a major role in all magic-related things.

Aside from that, Keziah also focused on developing a new skill that he called "Scanner". He now understood how it worked. More or less. He knew what he needed to do in order to achieve desirable results. It was good enough for "knowing how it works" to Keziah.

He also managed to keep the mana expenditure to a minimum after adjusting the flow of mana to his cracked core. He always had to be careful with it, though. Even if he had used a spell — like enhancing his body with electricity — a thousand times before, if the mana flowed against those cracks, rather than not exerting anything on them, then he could risk worsening his condition.

He sat in relative silence until the evening when some voices started growing and the other end of the main deck.

"Oi! Man with the funny sword!" called one of those voices. "How 'bout fighting real men and not children with sticks, eh?"