My Unique Adaptation Skill in Another world-Chapter 21 - 20: Farewell

The hours after escaping the fog passed in a blur of exhaustion and relief.

Leo helped where he could, securing loose rigging, hauling debris overboard, assisting the injured to the ship’s medic. His side still throbbed with every movement.

They didn’t celebrate, there was no cheering, just quiet, and determined work to keep the ship functional.

By evening, the immediate chaos had settled.

Leo found himself at the railing, staring back at the distant line of fog on the horizon. It looked almost peaceful from here, just gray mist clinging to the water, nothing like the hell they’d endured inside it.

"You should rest," Kaine said, appearing beside him.

The Guard Leader looked as exhausted as Leo was, dark circles under his eyes, fresh bandages on his arms.

"So should you," Leo replied.

"I will, once I’m sure everyone’s accounted for." Kaine’s expression was grim. "We lost eight. Three guards, five crew."

There was a short silence between them.

"There will be a ceremony tomorrow night," Kaine continued. "Oni tradition, you should attend."

Leo nodded. "I will."

"Good."

Kaine clapped him on the shoulder, and walked away.

Leo stayed at the railing a while longer, then finally headed below deck. His quarters felt almost foreign after days of chaos. He stripped off his blood-stained clothes, collapsed onto the bed, and almost immediately sleep took him.

The next day passed in relative quiet.

The ship’s Medic, a middle-aged Oni woman with steady hands and strict personality, cleaned and re-stitched Leo’s wound properly. She worked in silence, her potion easing some of the pain.

"Make sure to keep it clean," she said when she finished. "We will be changing the bandage twice a day, no straineous activity or heavy lifting for at least three days."

"What about training?" Leo asked.

She gave him a flat look. "Did I stutter?"

Leo decided not to argue.

He spent the day doing light work, organizing supplies, helping repair torn sails, anything to help out as much as he could. The crew accepted his help without comment, and Leo found the simple, mindless labor oddly comforting.

Iori spent most of the day in meetings with the captain and Kaine, likely discussing the delays and what to expect ahead. Leo caught glimpses of her on deck occasionally, always moving with purpose despite the obvious exhaustion.

That evening, as the sun began its descent, the crew began preparations for the ceremony.

Night fell, and the ship came to a stop.

Lanterns were lit across the deck, dozens of them, casting warm golden light that flickered in the gentle breeze. Torches burned at the bow and stern, their flames dancing against the darkness.

The eight bodies had been wrapped in clean cloth and laid out near the starboard railing, each one adorned with small tokens, weapons, personal effects, things that had mattered to them in life.

The entire crew gathered on deck. Guards, sailors, everyone stood in solemn silence as Iori stepped forward.

She had changed into formal attire, a long crimson robe with black patterns that flowed like liquid across the fabric. Her white hair was bound back, and her horns caught the torchlight, the red tips glowing faintly.

She stood before the wrapped bodies and started a dong.

The crew soon joined in.

The song started low, almost a hum, rising from dozens of throats in perfect unison. Then words emerged, haunting, mournful, carrying across the water like a prayer.

Far below the crimson peak,

Where shadows dwell and spirits sleep,

The tide will come to claim its own,

And carry warriors back to stone.

Leo felt the weight of it settle over him, the sorrow, the honor, the acceptance of death as part of the journey.

Lay down your blade upon the waves,

The mountain calls from ancient graves,

By fire born, by water freed,

Your name remains, your soul released.

Iori’s voice rose above the others, clear and strong, leading the song. Even in grief, she commanded respect.

The lanterns burn, the night wind mourns,

For those who fell with bloodied horns,

But death is just another door,

To walk the halls you walked before.

One by one, crew members stepped forward and lifted the wrapped bodies. They carried them to the railing with reverence, holding them steady as the song continued.

So rest now, warrior, rest your eyes,

Beneath the dark and endless skies,

The ancestors await your return,

Where crimson flames forever burn.

On Iori’s signal, they released the bodies into the water.

Eight splashes, one after another, each one swallowed by the dark sea. The lanterns reflected off the surface, creating points of light that seemed to follow the bodies down into the depths.

Far below the crimson peak,

Where shadows dwell and spirits sleep,

We’ll meet again beyond the shore,

Where warriors fall... but rise once more.

The final note hung in the air, then faded to silence.

For a long moment, no one moved. The crew stood watching the water where their companions had disappeared, paying final respects in their own ways.

Then, slowly, people began to disperse, quiet conversations resumed, and life continued.

Leo stayed at the railing, staring at the dark water.

"First time seeing an Oni funeral, right?" Iori asked, appearing beside him.

"Yeah."

"What did you think?"

"It felt... right," Leo said after a moment. "Sad, but not hopeless."

"That’s the point." Iori said, leaning against the railing. "Death is part of the journey, we’ve learned to honor it, not to fear it. The fallen return to the mountain, and one day, we’ll join them."

Leo glanced at her. "Do you believe that? Actually believe it?"

Iori was quiet for a moment. "I believe they deserve to be remembered, whether they’re actually waiting in some ancestral hall or just gone... does it matter? We carry them forward either way." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

It was a practical answer, honest in a way Leo hadn’t expected.

"You led that well," Leo said.

"Thank you." Iori’s expression was unreadable. "Although I don’t think it’s something anyone would want to be good at."

They stood in silence, watching the lanterns burn.

The following days settled into a rhythm of recovery.

Two weeks have passed since the journey started, light duties had resumed with cautious optimism. The ship’s repairs were completed, the hull’s enchantments stabilized, and the crew began to resemble their former selves.

Leo’s wound healed slowly, without adaptation to accelerate the process, he was stuck with normal human recovery time. It itched and pulled whenever he moved wrong.

He spent time with the crew, learning their routines, and hearing their stories. Most were Oni, with a scattering of beastkin and a few other races, they treated him with a kind of wary respect now, as the human who’d fought alongside them.

Iori found him on the second evening of recovery, leaning against the mast while he practiced aura circulation.

"How’s the side?" she asked.

"Healing slowly"

"Good, we’ll resume training tomorrow."

Leo looked up. "The healer said no heavy work for three days."

"Training isn’t heavy work," Iori said with a slight smug smirk. "It’s controlled, deliberate practice, there’s a difference."

"Pretty sure getting hit by you counts as heavy work."

"I’ll be gentle."

Leo snorted. "Sure you will."

Iori’s smirk widened just slightly. "You survived four days in the zone. You can handle a little sparring."

"A little sparring," Leo repeated. "Right."

"Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t die." She pushed off the mast. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we start again."

She walked away before he could respond.

Leo watched her go, shaking his head. Despite everything, the exhaustion, the injury, the lingering ache in his bones, he found himself looking forward to it.

Day fifteen arrived with clear skies and calm seas.

Leo woke early, stretched carefully to test his side, and found the pain had dulled to a manageable ache.

He went topside and found Iori already there, running through warm-up forms with her katanas. The morning light caught her white hair, and for a moment, Leo just stood and watched.

She noticed him and stopped mid-form. "Ready?"

"As I’ll ever be."

"Good." She sheathed her blades. "We’re starting slow today, just footwork and basic circulation, nothing that’ll tear your stitches."

"Alright then, let’s get started"

They spent the morning drilling movements, stances, weight shifts, controlled steps. It was frustrating after the intensity of real combat, but Leo understood the necessity, his body needed time to recover, and rushing it would only cause more problems.

By midday, his side was throbbing again, and Iori called for a stop.

"Not bad," she said. "You remembered more of our previous lessons than I thought you would, seems the attack had some positive effects on you."

"Doesn’t feel like much," Leo muttered.

"Like I said before, it never does." Iori studied him for a moment. "You’re frustrated."

"...I need to get better, but it feels like I’m crawling."

"You are crawling," Iori said bluntly. "That’s what building a foundation is like, it’s slow, tedious, unglamorous work that no one celebrates, but it’s necessary, without it, you’ll hit a ceiling and never break through."

Leo knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

"What’s with the sudden interest in power?" Iori asked.

"I...I really don’t know, I just have this nagging in my head that I need to get stronger" Leo sighed. "And being in constant danger especially the most recent one has made me quite impatient I guess..."

"How long did it take you?" he asked. "To build your foundation."

"Years," Iori said. "And I had every advantage, training from birth, resources, a seemingly blessed body that is already a very unfair advantage. You’re starting late with none of that, so obviously It’ll take time."

"I don’t have time."

"Then make time." Her tone was firm but not unkind. "Power that’s rushed is power that collapses. You want to be strong? Earn it properly."

Leo let out a slow breath, she was right. He knew she was right.

"Tomorrow we’ll push a bit harder," Iori said. "But today, rest, let your body heal."

She walked away, leaving Leo alone with his thoughts.

He looked down at his hands, scarred, calloused, still shaking slightly from aura depletion. They didn’t look like the hands of someone powerful, there was even a bit of fear in him.

" I guess this is good reminder as any" he thought. " A Novice, That’s what I am."

He could live with that.

For now.