Chapter 29 The Dining Hall

After Lilian left, Hutson sat back and organized the intelligence he had gathered from her.

Augustus Academy was structured more like a traditional school, an eight-year institution where wizard apprentices followed a curriculum. If an apprentice showed exceptional talent, they might be chosen by a full-fledged wizard as a personal student.

Among wizard organizations, Augustus Academy was considered one of the most stable and peaceful, with minimal infighting between apprentices.

Moonlight Grove, however, was entirely different.

There, knowledge and resources came at a price. Apprentices had to complete missions, earn points or magic stones, and trade for what they needed. Even lessons and guidance from official wizards were treated as commodities, something that had to be earned rather than freely given.

Knock. Knock.

Lilian was back.

When Hutson opened the door, he was met with the sight of a large, heavy blanket nearly obscuring her from view.

"I had an extra velvet blanket," she said, "don't use the ones on the ship. They're damp, moldy, and stink."

Hutson accepted it, feeling the luxurious silk exterior, embroidered with gold trim. The fabric was smooth, cool to the touch—clearly a noble's possession.

His instincts flared. Why is she showing me kindness?

Lilian was stronger than him, at least for now. There is no such thing as a free meal.

In this world, everything had a price.

As if reading his thoughts, Lilian spoke again. "By the way, if you're planning to eat, call me. We should go together."

Hutson raised a brow.

"Why?"

Lilian leaned against the doorframe, her tone casual but firm. "Because some people on this ship like to bully newcomers. It's a long voyage, and they get bored. I heard one of them once tied a new apprentice to the bow of the ship like bait. If Dino hadn't found him in time, his head would've been fish food."

Her casual tone didn't match the darkness of the story, which only made it more unsettling.

She had boarded a few days earlier, had seen more, and knew the dangers better than he did.

Hutson thought back to the aloof apprentices he had seen on the third deck and the upper levels—each one keeping their distance, silent and watchful.

Neither he nor Lilian fully trusted each other, and likely never would.

But they were still better off together than alone.

Hutson stepped back into his cabin, setting aside the damp ship blanket as a mattress, and replacing it with Lilian's velvet one.

"Let's go," Lilian called from outside his room.

Hutson locked his cabin door and followed.

As they ascended the staircase, he glanced downward—toward the lower levels of the ship.

Deck Five was shrouded in darkness.

From his vantage point, not a single light was visible—only the faintest hints of a rancid stench drifting upward.

Lilian wrinkled her nose. "The sailors live on the fifth deck. They're filthy."

Her tone was unapologetic, full of undisguised disdain.

"Below that," she continued, "there are two more levels—storage and ballast."

They moved quickly past the third deck.

A thin man crouched near the corridor, his wide, unblinking eyes locked onto them.

His stare was unnerving—cold, calculating, hungry.

"Don't look at him," Lilian whispered, lowering her head and quickening her pace.

Hutson averted his gaze, resisting the temptation to meet those predatory eyes.

Even after they passed, he felt the weight of that gaze burning into his back.

Only when they reached the second deck did it finally fade away.

"Who was that?" Hutson asked.

Lilian's voice was grim. "Figar Moulin. One of the two Second-Class Apprentices on this ship."

Her expression darkened. "He's the one who tied that apprentice to the ship's bow."

Hutson stiffened slightly.

"Is he unstable?"

Lilian gave a short, humorless laugh. "More than that. He's completely insane. If you're smart, you'll stay far away from him."

Her voice carried an edge of real fear—something he hadn't heard from her before.

Hutson nodded. He had no intention of crossing paths with someone like that.

The dining hall was spacious, its interior lit by hanging lanterns filled with glowing stones.

Food was simple, practical—white bread, smoked meats, dried rations. Two large baskets of green citrus fruits sat near the back, their tart scent filling the air.

Even looking at them was enough to make his mouth water.

Three other apprentices were seated apart from one another, each at their own table, eating in silence.

The moment Hutson and Lilian entered, all three noted their arrival—and just as quickly looked away, filing the information away for later.

Lilian smiled at Hutson's confusion.

"Why is everyone so distant?" he asked. "We have a full-fledged wizard onboard. There should be a degree of safety, shouldn't there?"

Lilian's expression turned mockingly amused.

"Dino won't care."

"What do you mean?"

She smirked, lowering her voice slightly. "There are no rules against killing aboard this ship. As long as you don't disrupt navigation, and as long as Dino doesn't see it, you're free to do as you please."

Hutson froze for a moment, processing her words.

"And the sigils?" he asked.

Lilian shrugged. "Sigils aren't bound to individuals. No wizard organization asks how you got yours. Some of these apprentices?" She gestured subtly toward the others in the room. "They weren't given their sigils. They took them."

Understanding settled over Hutson like a heavy weight.

This ship was not a safe passage. It was a test in itself—one where the weak were nothing more than stepping stones for the ambitious.

Hutson slowly exhaled.

"I see."

He had assumed the presence of a full-fledged wizard would enforce some degree of order.

But the truth was clear now.

Power ruled this place.

And he would have to be very, very careful.

For those without a sigil, the only way to join a wizarding organization was through a rigorous testing process. But a sigil was a direct pass, an undeniable shortcut.

And shortcuts bred desperation.

It was inevitable that some would kill for one.

None of the apprentices on board knew who they could trust—or who had stolen their sigil from a now-forgotten corpse. Suspicion ran deep, forcing everyone to remain guarded, which led to the uneasy silence and isolation that hung over the ship.

Hutson and Lilian gathered their food, eating and chatting in a manner that—compared to the others—felt unnaturally relaxed.

The three apprentices who had been there before them visibly quickened their pace, finishing their meals hastily before leaving without a word.

The dining hall was reserved exclusively for wizard apprentices. The crew members, no matter their rank, had no place here.

As Lilian idly toyed with her bread, she sighed dramatically. "I hold Augustus Academy's sigil. A lot of people want it. I had no choice but to find an ally."

Hutson understood now.

Those without a sigil would naturally see those who possessed one as walking opportunities. And Lilian, holding the Augustus sigil, had one of the most coveted prizes of all.

"I think I just walked into a trap."

Hutson finally realized the true pitfall of simply accompanying her to dinner.

"Just by sitting with you, they've likely assumed we're together. Which means your enemies are now mine."

Lilian straightened slightly, pushing out her chest with faux confidence. "Well, I'm stronger than you. I can protect you. Besides, who wouldn't want to form an alliance with a princess?"

Hutson cut her off immediately, rubbing his fingers together. "Drop the royal nonsense. I want something practical."

Lilian rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by his lack of sentimentality. "Fine. Here."

She reached into her sleeve, pulling out a small, silver ring.

"A space ring. You don't have one yet, do you?"

Hutson snatched it instantly, turning it over in his hand.

"Now this is useful."

Lilian's voice turned serious. "You think keeping your distance from me will keep you safe? It's the opposite. You'll just be seen as an easier target."

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice.

"There are two Second-Class Apprentices aboard. If we work together, even they would hesitate before making a move."

Her expression darkened. "If a Second-Class Apprentice gets injured in a fight, do you really think the other one would just let them recover? No. They'd finish them off while they were weak. That's how things work here."

Hutson took a slow breath, rolling the ring between his fingers.

He already knew the truth—if a fight broke out, no one would stop it.

And if one of the Second-Class Apprentices fell, it would start a chain reaction of bloodshed.

Finally, he nodded.

"Fine. We'll work together."

He smirked. "Not like we have a choice—everyone already assumes we're allies."