Chapter 4: The Giant

  A small boat skimmed across the sea, carrying only two figures. One was short and powerfully built, dark-skinned and broad , his bald head catching the light while a heavy beard fell in thick braids nearly to his knees. He sat at the front of the vessel, solid and unmoving.

  The other was tall , with pointed ears and short caramel-colored hair. Thick glasses rested on his pointy nose, lending him the unmistakable air of a scholar rather than a sailor. He stood near the back of the boat, one hand extended toward the water, eyes focused not on the vessel, but on the sea itself.

  The boat moved quickly, faster than its size suggested. There were no oars cutting the water, no sail catching the wind. Instead, the sea beneath it shifted in quiet response, currents bending just enough to carry the vessel forward. Where the elf’s hand hovered, the water stiffened and flowed at once, guided by a faint, icy-blue glow that traced along the surface before fading again.

  The dwarf said nothing, trusting the motion without question. The elf made no show of effort, adjusting the flow with small, precise movements, as if correcting a thought rather than steering a craft. Together, they crossed the water in silence.

  “Professor Bernard,” the taller man said without looking away from the water.

  “Yes, Professor Adelion,” the shorter man replied, his voice steady.

  Adelion adjusted his glasses, frowning. “Why are we diverting to Hollowreach again? I dislike having my studies interrupted, especially for a place… well so insignificant.”

  Bernard let out a low chuckle. “We’re picking up new students. There’s nothing more important than that right now.”

  Adelion finally turned toward him. “New students? Then why Hollowreach? No one arrives there. Students are brought directly to the academy island, as they always have been.”

  Bernard smiled faintly. “And I thought you were the smarter of the two of us.”

  Adelion stiffened. “What are you implying—” He paused, eyes narrowing. “Ah. Archypego.”

  Bernard nodded. “The only reason that island even exists.”

  “More Archypegan students?” Adelion said, frowning. “That’s… unusual. We usually receive one every decade, if that, and professors are almost never sent to greet them personally.”

  Bernard glanced at him. “Adelion, surely you can think of at least one student who would warrant that effort.”

  Adelion opened his mouth, then stopped. His eyes lifted slightly as memory caught up.

  “…Thalessa. Thalessa’s brothers. The two sons of Archypego.”

  “You’re quite right,” Bernard said. “Though only one of the brothers, and another student besides.”

  Adelion blinked. “Only one? Then who is the other? Another talent from Archypego? I find that difficult to believe.”

  Bernard’s expression didn’t change. “No, a rather peculiar case. He arrived at Hollowreach because of… circumstances.”

  Adelion’s frown deepened. “That’s hardly reassuring.”

  Bernard smiled faintly. “It rarely is.”

  Meliodas ran down Hollowreach’s Main Street, his pace hurried but unhindered by the lack of people. It helped that the road was nearly empty.

  Dammit, he thought, late on my first day. What kind of first impression is that?

  As he pushed forward, the street began to narrow. The stone paving gradually gave way to packed dirt, the buildings thinning until they disappeared entirely. Palm trees and low bushes crept in along the sides of the path, their leaves brushing lightly in the sea breeze. The air grew quieter, the sounds of the town fading behind him.

  He kept running until the path opened into a small clearing.

  A modest dock rested at the water’s edge, weathered wood stretching just far enough into the ocean to meet a waiting boat. Three men stood nearby, their attention turned toward the sea, as if expecting someone.

  Meliodas slowed, catching his breath, he had found the place.

  He straightened, only to find a short man standing directly in front of him. With Meliodas still hunched from catching his breath, they ended up nearly face to face.

  “And you are?” the man asked.

  “Meliodas, sir. Nice to meet you,” Meliodas said quickly. His eyes flicked to the emerald green robes the man wore, the mark of an academy professor, just as his father had described before his departure.

  “Ah. You are Meliodas Archypego, correct?”

  “Yes, sir,” Meliodas replied, snapping upright and giving a stiff salute, more like a military cadet than a student.

  “There’s no need for that,” the professor said flatly. “Can you explain your tardiness, Meliodas?”

  “I was lost, sir.”

  “Lost?” The tall man with pointed ears spoke this time, his tone sharp, irritation clear as he struggled to find words for such an answer.

  Meliodas turned toward him and bowed hastily. “I’m sorry, professor—” He hesitated. “Professor…?”

  “Professor Adelion,” the elf answered, unimpressed.

  “Professor Adelion,” Meliodas corrected himself quickly. “I was… rather fascinated by the town and its people, and I lost track of time.”

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  Professor Adelion frowned, then looked away, clearly unconvinced.

  Meliodas shifted his attention to the dwarf. He had seen dwarves before, only a handful in his life, and never spoken to one directly. Most had come to consult with his father and left Archypego soon after.

  “Professor Bernard,” the dwarf said, introducing himself with a short nod.

  “Nice to meet you, Professor,” Meliodas said earnestly. “My name is—”

  “We know,” Bernard interrupted, a faint smirk tugging at his beard.

  “Oh,” Meliodas replied, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

  “Well then,” Professor Adelion said, turning toward the dock and then back to the others, “how are we going to deal with this, Bernard?”

  Bernard glanced at the third figure waiting by the boat and grinned. “Simple fix.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, dull-gray stone. “I came prepared.”

  Adelion raised an eyebrow. “A weightless stone.”

  Meliodas blinked. “Sorry, sir, but… what exactly is a weightless stone?”

  Adelion frowned. “You don’t know?” He looked genuinely offended. “How could you not—”

  “Adelion,” Bernard interrupted calmly. “You know Archypego doesn’t care much for theory. That’s why he sends his people out into the world in the first place.”

  “…Right,” Adelion admitted after a pause.

  Bernard turned back to Meliodas. “It’s a stone that, when imbued with Straum, reduces the weight of whatever it’s bound to. People, cargo, even small vessels. Mostly its used for transport.”

  “Oh,” Meliodas said slowly. “Then why would we need that—”

  He stopped mid-sentence.

  His gaze shifted to the third figure waiting by the boat.

  “Oh,” he said again, this time with understanding.

  The two professors and Meliodas walked toward the boat.

  As they approached the end of the dock, Meliodas’ attention fixed on the man waiting there if man was even the right word. He was nearly twice Meliodas’ size, a towering figure with dark brown skin and muscles like actual boulders stacked onto his frame. Even Brom, who had seemed imposing, would have looked small standing beside this behemoth.

  They stopped in front of him.

  The man wore no shirt, only a pair of worn, old trousers that looked stretched to their limit. He straightened slightly and extended a hand for greeting.

  “Tyka,” he said.

  The voice was… high. Unmistakably so.

  Meliodas froze for a heartbeat, the laugh threatening to escape before he could stop it. In his mind, an image of his mother surfaced instantly, clear, calm, and deeply disappointed. The consequences of that laughter played out just as vividly.

  He swallowed, composed himself, and reached out to shake the massive hand.

  “Meliodas,” he said, managing a steady tone. “Nice to meet you.”

  As the small vessel slowly pulled away from the dock, Meliodas couldn’t help but think that the four of them looked rather comical. The two professors sat together at the back of the boat, composed and focused, while Meliodas was seated beside Tyka, or more accurately, pressed into the corner. Tyka alone occupied nearly the entire side of the boat, his massive frame leaving Meliodas with just enough space to sit without falling overboard. The weightless stone Tyka carried rested quietly in his pocket, doing its work unseen.

  For a time, none of them spoke.

  Eventually, Professor Bernard broke the silence.

  “Let’s go over your student profiles,” he said, his tone calm and professional. “It’s best we know what to expect from the two of you, and once again congratulations on being accepted into the Western Academy. It is the most prestigious academy on our continent.”

  “Our continent?” Tyka asked, brow furrowing. “I thought it was the most prestigious academy in the world.”

  Professor Adelion frowned quietly, just enough that no one else could hear him mutter, “A brute too, huh.”

  Bernard shot him a sharp look, and Adelion immediately returned his attention to guiding the boat.

  “Yes,” Bernard continued smoothly, “on our continent. There are… other academies that claim to rival us in prestige. I disagree, personally, but such debates are better left to scholars.”

  “Oh,” Tyka said simply. “Okay.”

  ” Well then,” Bernard said, turning slightly, “let’s start with you, Tyka, since you seem so eager to speak.”

  He reached into the air beside him and pulled out two thin notes as if they had been waiting there all along. The gesture drew a brief look of surprise from both Tyka and Meliodas.

  “Tyka,” Bernard read. “No recorded surname.”

  Tyka shrugged.

  “Species: half-human, half-giant.”

  That makes sense, Meliodas thought, finally understanding how someone could be built like that.

  “It’s quite rare,” Bernard added, glancing up, “to see a human–giant hybrid.”

  “Not only commoner, but a half-bread too,” Professor Adelion muttered under his breath.

  Bernard shot him a sharp look.

  “Yep,” Tyka said cheerfully, unfazed. “My dad was an adventurer. Met my mom during one of his expeditions. They fell in love, and well little Tyka popped out. That’s what my mom calls me, anyway.” He grinned broadly.

  Meliodas couldn’t help but notice Tyka’s easygoing nature. Despite the remarks directed at him, remarks Tyka either ignored or genuinely didn’t notice, there was nothing bitter in his tone. If anything, he seemed comfortable in his own skin.

  Meliodas felt a flicker of irritation toward Professor Adelion. He had heard the comments clearly; his senses were sharper than most, even without trying. The elf’s hostility wasn’t subtle.

  Still, Meliodas wasn’t surprised. Most elves he had encountered carried themselves with an air of pride that bordered on disdain, especially those of noble lineage. His father rarely spoke about them, but when he did, his opinion was always the same, a bunch of rude, prideful bastards.

  “Your Straum element is…” Professor Bernard trailed off mid-sentence, looking up at Tyka with genuine surprise.

  “Stone,” Tyka said casually.

  Meliodas blinked. Professor Adelion did as well, his expression stiffening almost immediately.

  “What?” Tyka asked loudly, glancing between them.

  “That is a rare variant of the earth element,” Professor Bernard said, his tone shifting with clear interest. “And something to be proud of. Variants do not appear often.”

  “Oh,” Tyka said, scratching the back of his head. “That explains why my dad was so happy when I got evaluated.”

  “With good reason,” Bernard replied. “Rare variants are not only uncommon, but stone is an excellent one. With the right development, it can even evolve into metal. There is no better defense specialist on this planet than a metal elemental, well, perhaps diamond, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He smiled faintly. “It seems I was right. You’re a defense specialist.”

  Tyka nodded, clearly pleased.

  “Your Straum capacity is also excellent,” Bernard continued. “Congratulations, student Tyka. You have a very promising future ahead of you, if you play your cards right.”

  Professor Adelion cleared his throat. “It seems I may have been mistaken in my earlier remark. You have my apologies, Student Tyka.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Tyka said with a shrug, brushing it off as if it meant nothing.

  “Your current Straum realm is River,” Bernard said. “Exactly what one would expect of a Western Academy entrant.” He paused, scanning the notes again. “And it says here that you already possess a skill. That is rare.”

  Meliodas leaned forward slightly.

  “May I ask what it is?” Bernard said.

  “I can conjure a stone warhammer as my weapon,” Tyka replied, a faint blush creeping onto his face.

  “Rather excellent, if I must say so,” Professor Adelion said, folding his hands behind his back. “Have you had previous training? It is unusual for commoners to possess skills upon arrival at the academy.”

  Tyka scratched his cheek, thinking. “My mom drilled me a lot after my evaluation. She would always say that I was born with a blessing from the gods and that I’d be stupid not to train it.” He smiled faintly. “My family’s in the stone business too, so once I got a grasp of my Straum, I shaped it into a hammer. Seemed easier than carrying a normal one around.”

  He paused, as if trying to remember something.“Right before I came here, I felt something… strange. Like something clicked, and then I could conjure it without really thinking about it.”

  Professor Bernard laughed, a deep, approving sound. He lifted a hand as if to clap Tyka on the shoulder, then hesitated, thought better of it, and let his arm fall back to his side. “Practical, intuitive, and instinctive,” he said. “A solid foundation.”

  Meliodas listened quietly, turning Tyka’s words over in his mind. As the conversation settled, the nerves he had tried so hard to suppress crept back in. His chest tightened slightly.

  He realized, with uncomfortable clarity, that he was next.