There was no doubt in the minds of the world that Aaron Grimstall was perhaps the strongest rookie to ever participate in the Hunters' Exam.
Behind only the likes of Marshals and Sea Kings, who stood at the very pinnacle of human ability, he rose above and beyond, showcasing his might.
The moment after he had absorbed the core of the chimera, the figures of the two finalists had blurred in the eyes of the audience, having travelled a considerable distance as if it hadn't required more than a step.
Before anyone could even blink, the blond challenger tore the arm of Akari Ayaka off like that of a rag doll, her ear soon to follow.
Some said alarmed exclamations were reportedly heard from the executive booth at the tallest point of the stadium, yet in the days to follow, no one stepped out to definitively confirm or deny the claims.
Vaelmyr Droskyn, Lepaie Quinn, and Cauron Thorn remained silent on the events of the championship battle, only congratulating the blond boy on his victory in a newspaper interview.
No matter how hard the world tried to get a hold of the center of the madness, the young sensation himself, they had been decisively blocked at every turn.
At first, it was reasonable, a brief medical inspection of his throat to ensure the poisonous quill that had impaled his windpipe would not leave any lasting damage.
However, even hours after he had been cleared, the Hunters' Guild refused interviews, claiming that the child felt ill after his win.
Even after waiting until the next morning, the eager newsmen had been informed that the five challengers had departed the island alongside Lord Thorn with the Vault of Nautilus in mind.
The unusual turn of events that had kept Aaron Grimstall unavailable had been most unfortunate for the newspaper journalists, but even so, the other reports were far from boring.
With a headline far outshining all the pre-tournament hype, the so-called Perfect Rookie had received a new title, one far more fitting for his strength.
The Marshal of Waves.
Without even officially holding the rank of Marshal within the Hunters' Guild, a mere rookie was now revered as such, his prestige spreading throughout the seas.
Appearing in every town, city, or lookout, the results of the exam were in, an unsurprising result for the first attempt at a tournament.
In fifth place, Ezra Flock, whose first round matchup against Raphael von Steinfeste left him with a wound through the chest and a heavy prospect of rehabilitation.
Alaric von Steinfeste was nearly tied with the black-haired boy, his only saving grace being the emblem that allowed him to rebound in his fight against Ayaka.
Both of these challengers had been promoted to Colonels during the Lispentine Tournament Ceremony, their ruby badges glistening on their chests.
The top three, however, were in a completely different league than all the rest, their pure and utter domination of the bracket so intense that, under normal circumstances, even the two runner-ups could have easily taken first place.
Yet, in an effort to remain competitive, the ranks followed the order in which they placed, Raphael von Steinfeste coming in a close third.
As the news about his final match against Aaron spread far and wide, the King of Wishes directly announced that the seventeen-year-old boy would accompany him into the Holy Land for training right after the Nautilus selection ceremony.
Revealing the existence of the Mark of the Sun to the world for the first time, the King explained what it meant for Raphael to make it radiate so brightly.
He, of course, could not reveal how the boy had come into possession of the Mark, the memory seemingly erased from Raphael's mind.
Next, beating his already unbelievably high score by only a single point, Akari Ayaka claimed her second-place position in the Hunters' Guild Special Exam.
Her courageous efforts and incredible dagger skills showcased during the final fight with the monster known as Aaron Grimstall created such a spectacle that even the Sea Kings were left shocked.
The only one standing in her way towards glory was none other than her opponent and friend, a boy who had come from nothing and now stood at the top of the rookie class.
His strength was immeasurable, a complete anomaly to those who graded the exam, leaving him with a perfect fifty out of fifty points.
As the only challenger in history to place at the top of all three stages of the exam, he was granted the rank of Commodore, placing him one rank above the two others who had both received the rank of Admiral.
Never before had a single individual gained the position of an Admiral right after their entrance exam, much less a Commodore, the three rank assignments shocking the entire world.
Across all nine inhabited seas, there had been commotions in nearly every major population center.
Such was the fate of the next generation to cause a stir; however, the reasoning behind the uproar wasn't quite as simple as one might come to think.
Masaru Kurogane's strike upon the heavens themselves had left a heavy burden on those around the world, the truest extent of the Marshal's power now on full display.
Riots in the Sea of Souls, Sea of Dreams, Sea of Wishes, Sea of Songs, and even the Sea of Mystery erupted within days, and both the Oceanic Association and the Hunters' Guild had to do their best to suppress them.
Under authorization by William Twynam himself, the Association Guard, those who had been personally trained by the Sea Kings for special operations, now acted publicly for the first time in decades.
The units stationed in each of the seven safe seas, and even the undercover branch in Svall, all rose to subdue the rebels while preventing any casualties, a force working in the shadows, seemingly fueling the flames of war.
To those in every corner of the sunken world, it was clear that something was coming, and that event would spell a global shift that no human would escape.
The arrival of the newly appointed Hunters—two Colonels, two Admirals, and one Commodore—on the island of Nautilus was fast approaching, and a storm of disastrous impact was soon to befall the world.
Delaying the inevitable would only seek to bring the world closer to its end, the fate of humanity now resting on the shoulders of the youth.
And at the forefront of that generation, Aaron Grimstall would stand, his eyes locked on the future and into the heavens above.
…
In the Sea of Dreams, on the island of Strava, an empty shack stood silently, unmoving as if frozen in place.
A tree had fallen through the roof, caving it in completely and leaving the building abandoned, and any residents who once lived there were now gone.
That was, of course, excluding a single lifeform that stared at the destroyed structure with two black, beady eyes.
Mr. Crab, only half the size of his normal appearance, gazed upon the old home of Aaron Grimstall without a single emotion.
Slowly, he moved his claw in front of him, a small turquoise key glimmering in his grasp like a product of some spectacular spell.
Click.
The ground beneath his peg legs flashed a blinding white, only for the light to soon vanish, the crustacean disappearing without another sound.
He had been quick and gone unnoticed by all, or at least, to his knowledge.
For, beyond the furthest cliff of the island, at a distance far too great for most anyone to notice, a blond-haired man sat on the ground, staring.
His turquoise-blue eyes were blank, and an empty expression settled over his aged face as he watched the crab disappear.
"Filthy creature."
He turned around, his gaze falling over the steep cliffside beside him that overlooked the bluish-magenta sea.
Beside him, a newspaper read clearly in the day, the headline as large as possible with a sketch just below it.
"The Marshal of Waves…"
Shaking his head slowly, he leaned backwards on the grass, his eyes meeting the unchanging sky, at which he instinctively twitched.
While he had always lived in fear of that day, for decades, being beside the sea relieved the burden weighing on his shoulders—it made the rapidly approaching time feel like a myth.
And so, as he closed his eyes and felt a presence appear behind him, he could only smile and wait for that very same inevitable future that the world would one day come to know.
What was embedded so deeply in the blood of the Grimstall family, awakened at last before the dawn of the new era.
…
"'Tis a marvel beyond compare, that I shall receive a new visitor, so soon after a span of centuries wherein naught hath occurred…"
The robed elder gazed over the endless pit at the top of the Floriam Mountains, and behind him stood a pale man, the fading sun so close that its light reflected wonderously over the world all around.
"It has been a while, Apollis. I had thought your kind had been wiped out after that incident all those years ago, but to see you now truly confirms my deepest suspicions."
Smiling eerily, Azaroth Pane stood at the other end of the mountain top, his horns beginning to curl like those of a ram.
His attire was made up of an impeccable black suit crafted with real Manticore thread alongside mana-inscribed sealant.
He, of course, was possessed by the Devil of Greed, a creature who had lived through the Era of Architects, hiding away in the Abyss.
"Thou, Greed, why hast thou come to behold my lifeless body in a guise that is not thine own? Dost the dense fog hinder thy true form from descending upon this mortal realm once more?"
The old man turned around slowly, his dark eyes falling on the halfling's form, a tinge of disgust evident on his expression.
Not wishing to speak further, he sighed, leaning against his crystalline staff before he could listen to the horned man's words.
"Thou hast no claim upon my time, therein thou seekest to pose queries of scant merit, whilst striving to undo the labors of mine own hand. To unleash the Devourer of Worlds would thus precipitate the downfall of all that is dear, and thereby bring to pass the very demise of our realm, wherein all our endeavors shall come to—"
He was cut off by the pale man, who spoke as his hands came up to tip his tophat.
"Tell me now, Apollis, you mentioned a human who had come here before me?"
There was a slight hesitation in his voice, something so subtle that it would go unnoticed to most; however, the man who had taken part in sealing several Great Ones could not be fooled so easily.
Reading the horned man like an open book, he smiled widely, a wave of confidence and strength washing over the devil.
Such a feeble display of force wasn't enough to shake him, his own presence not diminishing in front of the ancient Architect in the slightest.
"Thou hast already taken thy leave of these fair realms."
Azaroth sighed at the words of the elder, the tips of his fingers slowly rising towards his lips.
"I do not care about his current location. Simply tell me his name, and I shall be gone."
A strong gust of wind swept over the top of Mount Evermore, the sun's bright light momentarily fading as if blocked out by something far greater and far darker.
Time seemed to stand still as the elder finally parted his lips, a single name coming out without a sliver of emotion.
"Aaron Grimstall."
END OF ARC 4: THE HUNTERS' EXAM