"Three days from now," Alcaster said quietly, adjusting his stance as Fisher Tiger demonstrated a blocking technique. They were midway through what appeared to be a normal training session, their conversation hidden beneath the rhythmic sounds of practice. "The seasonal guard rotation begins at dawn. Security will be at its weakest during the transition."
Fisher Tiger nodded almost imperceptibly, his massive hands guiding Alcaster's arms into the proper position with careful precision. To any observer, they were simply master and student practicing forms.
"The maintenance access point?" the fishman asked, his voice barely audible.
"Eastern quadrant, level three," Alcaster replied, executing a fluid strike that Fisher Tiger deflected with practiced ease. "The panel replacement has been delayed another week. The nightshift guard there is Petros—he takes an unauthorized break approximately two hours after sunset."
Fisher Tiger absorbed this information without visible reaction, maintaining the impassive expression that had kept him alive through years of slavery. But Alcaster could sense the coiled energy beneath the fishman's controlled exterior—anticipation finally crystallizing into imminent action after months of careful planning.
"Once you reach the cable housing," Alcaster continued, moving through another series of practiced movements, "you'll have approximately fifteen minutes before the maintenance check. The descent will take—"
"Four to six hours," Fisher Tiger finished. "I've been building my stamina accordingly."
It was true—throughout their training sessions, Fisher Tiger had been systematically preparing his body for the grueling physical challenge of climbing down the massive elevator cables. His already formidable strength had been honed to extraordinary levels through subtle, undetectable exercises performed during his regular slave duties.
"After that," Alcaster said, "it's open ocean. East-southeast will take you toward—"
"I know where to go," Fisher Tiger interrupted gently. There were some details better left unshared, even with allies. The less Alcaster knew about Fisher Tiger's destinations after escape, the less he could potentially reveal under questioning.
They continued through the training sequence, their bodies moving in choreographed patterns while their minds worked through the final details of a plan months in the making. This would likely be their final regular session—after today, everything would change.
"What about you?" Fisher Tiger asked during a pause for water. "When the alarm sounds—"
"I'll be perfectly positioned to express appropriate outrage," Alcaster assured him. "My father has political rivals who would be eager to use any hint of complicity against our family. I've established sufficient insulation."
The fishman studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "And afterward? When you remain here alone?"
It was a question laden with meaning—concern not for the plan but for the child who would continue living among those Fisher Tiger intended to strike against.
"This is my battlefield," Alcaster replied simply. "As the ocean will be yours."
Fisher Tiger nodded slowly, a rare smile crossing his face. "You are a most unusual ally, Alcaster Reed."
"And you are a most unusual teacher, Fisher Tiger."
The acknowledgment of their strange partnership—a Celestial Dragon child and a fishman slave, conspirators against the very system that defined their official relationship—hung between them for a moment before they resumed their practice.
As they moved through the final cooling exercises that would conclude their session, Alcaster considered the timing. Three days until the guard rotation. Three days until Fisher Tiger would make his bid for freedom, beginning a chain of events that would eventually lead to his return and legendary raid on Mary Geoise.
Three days to ensure all pieces were perfectly positioned for success.
"Our next session," Alcaster said as they finished, loud enough for the waiting guard to hear, "will focus on water manipulation techniques. Prepare a demonstration of the principles we discussed."
"Yes, young master," Fisher Tiger replied with the appropriate deference, bowing as expected of a slave addressing a Celestial Dragon.
But their eyes met briefly in the bow, a final silent confirmation passing between them. The next time they met would not be for training, but for execution of their plan.
The waiting guard stepped forward to escort Fisher Tiger back to the slave quarters, and Alcaster watched them go, his mind already turning to the next phase of preparation.
A chance encounter would need to be arranged—one that would create the perfect opportunity for Fisher Tiger's escape without casting suspicion on Alcaster himself.
And he knew exactly which Celestial Dragon would unwittingly provide that opportunity.
The Grand Solstice Gathering was one of Mary Geoise's most elaborate social events—a seasonal celebration where Celestial Dragon families displayed their wealth, power, and latest acquisitions to their peers. Normally, Alcaster avoided such gatherings whenever possible, finding the ostentatious displays of cruelty and excess both distasteful and unproductive.
Today, however, he had a specific purpose for attending.
"Young Saint Reed," an elderly Celestial Dragon remarked as Alcaster entered the opulent reception hall with his father. "How unexpected to see you at a social function. We'd begun to think you preferred your books to proper society."
"Knowledge and society each have their place, Saint Morley," Alcaster replied with practiced politeness. "One informs how best to navigate the other."
His father placed a proud hand on his shoulder. "Alcaster understands the importance of balance in all things. His scholarly pursuits are commendable, but connections among our peers remain essential."
The gathering was already in full swing, with Celestial Dragons from all the major families present. Elaborate food displays, exotic entertainment, and slaves demonstrating various skills for their masters' amusement filled the massive hall. In one corner, a group of musicians played delicate melodies that barely carried over the loud conversations and occasional cruel laughter.
Alcaster scanned the room with purpose, quickly identifying his target—Saint Shalulia Rosward, surrounded by her usual entourage of sycophants and personal slaves. She was holding court near the central fountain, apparently describing a recent acquisition to an admiring audience.
"Father, with your permission, I believe I see some age-appropriate companions," Alcaster said, gesturing vaguely toward the younger Celestial Dragons gathered at the far side of the hall.
"By all means," his father nodded approvingly. "It's good to see you taking initiative socially."
With that permission secured, Alcaster made his way through the crowd, drawing surprised glances from various nobles not accustomed to seeing the youngest Reed at such functions. He carefully timed his approach to intercept Shalulia as she moved from one conversation group to another.
"Saint Alcaster," she acknowledged with mild surprise when they nearly collided at a refreshment table. "How unusual to see you at a social gathering. I thought you preferred the company of your strange combat instructors to proper society."
"Even dedicated study benefits from occasional diversion, Saint Shalulia," Alcaster replied smoothly. "Besides, events like these offer unique opportunities for... educational observations."
Her entourage tittered appreciatively at what they perceived as Celestial Dragon humor—the suggestion that observing "lesser beings" could be educational.
"Still pursuing your combat fascination?" she asked, a note of condescension in her voice. "Such physical interests seem more suited to marines than God's chosen."
"Knowledge of many disciplines ensures more effective command," Alcaster replied smoothly. "My fishman instructor has provided valuable insights into underwater warfare techniques that could benefit our naval operations."
The mention of his unusual slave instructor had the intended effect—a flash of interest crossing Shalulia's otherwise bored expression.
"A fishman?" she said, her voice dropping slightly. "A pure-blood, or one of the mongrel varieties?"
"Pure Tiger Shark fishman," Alcaster confirmed, knowing that the Rosward family particularly valued "exotic" specimens for their collection. "Exceptionally powerful, even for his breed."
Shalulia's eyes narrowed with sudden calculation. "Male or female?"
"Male," Alcaster replied, already anticipating where her thoughts were leading.
"How interesting," she said, her tone shifting to one of casual avarice. "My father recently acquired a female shark mermaid for my personal collection. Pure-blooded, of excellent lineage." A smile that contained no warmth spread across her face. "Have you considered the potential value of selective breeding? The offspring of two pure-blood specimens would command extraordinary prices."
It was exactly the opening Alcaster had anticipated. The Celestial Dragons' fascination with treating other sentient beings as livestock was as predictable as it was repulsive.
"An intriguing proposition," he replied, affecting thoughtful consideration. "The genetic combination could indeed produce valuable results. I hadn't considered the commercial applications of my instructor."
"Most don't see the full potential of their possessions," Shalulia said, her tone suggesting she was offering valuable wisdom to a less sophisticated peer. "A breeding program requires proper planning, of course. Documentation of bloodlines, assessment of physical specimens..." She paused, then added with calculated generosity: "Perhaps your fishman could be brought to our estate for evaluation? Our chief steward has extensive experience with selective breeding programs."
Alcaster allowed his expression to show appropriate interest, as if the idea had never occurred to him before this moment. "A most generous offer, Saint Shalulia. Such collaboration could be mutually beneficial to our families."
"Indeed," she agreed, clearly pleased with her own cleverness. "Shall we say the day after tomorrow? Mid-afternoon would allow proper time for thorough assessment."
"The day after tomorrow," Alcaster repeated, careful to show neither excessive eagerness nor reluctance. "I'll have him transported to your estate at the appointed time."
"Excellent." Shalulia nodded regally before continuing on her way to the assembly hall, her entourage of slaves following in perfect formation behind her.
As they disappeared around the corner, Alcaster allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction. The timing was perfect—the day after tomorrow would coincide exactly with the guard rotation he and Fisher Tiger had identified as optimal for the escape attempt.
Now he simply needed to arrange for the right guard to be assigned to the transport duty—preferably someone whose subsequent failure would reflect no suspicion on the Reed family.
"You want me to what?" Fisher Tiger's disbelief was evident despite his controlled tone. They were in Alcaster's private study, having moved their scheduled "demonstration preparation" there to ensure complete privacy.
"Accompany a guard to the Rosward estate," Alcaster repeated calmly. "Saint Shalulia believes you're being transported for assessment as part of a potential breeding program with her mermaid slave."
The fishman's expression darkened with disgust. "They truly see us as nothing more than animals."
"Which makes them predictable," Alcaster pointed out. "The route to the Rosward estate passes within two hundred meters of the eastern maintenance access. The guard who will escort you is Jenks—chosen specifically because he's both easily distracted and known for taking shortcuts."
Fisher Tiger considered this modification to their original plan, his tactical mind quickly assessing its advantages and potential complications.
"Instead of escaping directly from here," he said slowly, thinking aloud, "I overpower a single guard in transit, with a clearer path to the access point and potentially less immediate pursuit." He nodded grudgingly. "It's actually a superior opportunity, assuming this guard is as incompetent as you suggest."
"Jenks once lost an entire shipment of tribute gold because he stopped to flirt with a palace servant," Alcaster assured him. "He's maintained his position solely through family connections. More importantly, his failure will reflect poorly on himself rather than raising questions about my family's security protocols."
"And your relationship with the Rosward girl provides the perfect explanation for the transport order," Fisher Tiger completed the thought. "No one would question your motivation, given the potential value of the proposed arrangement."
"Precisely." Alcaster allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. "When you fail to arrive at the Rosward estate, Shalulia's outrage will be directed at the incompetent guard rather than me. By the time anyone thinks to organize a proper search, you'll be halfway down the Red Line."
Fisher Tiger studied him with newfound respect. "You've considered every angle."
"I try to," Alcaster acknowledged. "Though circumstances can always introduce unexpected variables."
The fishman was silent for a moment, then asked the question that had clearly been on his mind. "What about your other project? The human girl with the constant smile."
Alcaster hadn't expected Fisher Tiger to inquire about Koala. Their previous interaction had been brief, though apparently meaningful enough to leave an impression.
"Koala continues to improve," he said. "Her conditioning is gradually weakening. She no longer maintains the smile when we're alone, and she's begun sharing memories of her life before capture."
"And after I'm gone? After the raid?" Fisher Tiger's question was direct, cutting to the heart of what would follow his escape. They both knew he intended to return to Mary Geoise, to free as many slaves as possible in a strike against the Celestial Dragons that would become legendary.
"I'll protect her," Alcaster promised. "And when the opportunity presents itself..."
He didn't complete the sentence, but the implication was clear. If Fisher Tiger's raid succeeded as history suggested it would, Koala might have a chance for freedom—a chance Alcaster would ensure she was prepared to seize.
Fisher Tiger nodded solemnly. "The child deserves better than this place." After a pause, he added more quietly, "As do you, strange as that may sound to say to a Celestial Dragon."
The comment caught Alcaster by surprise—a rare acknowledgment of his own trapped position within the system he was working to undermine.
"We all have our cages," he replied simply. "Some are more gilded than others."
Their conversation was interrupted by a discreet knock at the door—the signal that their allotted time for "preparation" was nearing its end.
"The day after tomorrow, then," Fisher Tiger confirmed, rising to assume the posture expected of a slave in the presence of his master.
"Yes." Alcaster nodded, seamlessly transitioning back to his public persona. "Be prepared to demonstrate the water manipulation techniques we've discussed."
It would be their final exchange before the escape attempt—their farewell disguised as a routine instruction.
As Fisher Tiger was escorted back to the slave quarters, Alcaster watched him go with mixed emotions. The fishman had become more than just an ally in his long-term plans—he was perhaps the closest thing to a friend Alcaster had found in this world where his true self remained hidden from all others.
Success would mean their separation, potentially forever. Failure would likely mean Fisher Tiger's death and increased scrutiny on Alcaster himself.
But the die was cast. In two days, everything would change.
The morning of the planned escape dawned clear and calm, with no hint of the momentous events about to unfold. Alcaster went through his usual routines with careful normalcy—breakfast with his family, morning studies, a brief session with Phoros that focused on breathing techniques.
Throughout these activities, he maintained perfect composure, giving no indication that today was any different from any other. Even Koala, who had grown increasingly perceptive to his moods, seemed to notice nothing unusual in his demeanor.
Only when alone in his study did he allow himself to review the plan once more. The transport authorization had been properly filed and approved. Jenks had been assigned as escort, with no last-minute personnel changes. The guard rotation was proceeding as expected, with experienced officers being replaced by newer recruits throughout the morning.
Everything was aligned for success—now it was simply a matter of execution.
At precisely two hours past noon, a servant appeared to inform Alcaster that his fishman instructor had been prepared for transport to the Rosward estate as arranged.
"Very good," Alcaster nodded, affecting mild interest rather than concern. "Has Guard Jenks been briefed on the handling protocols?"
"Yes, young master," the servant confirmed. "The fishman has been fitted with additional restraints as per transport regulations, and Guard Jenks has been instructed on the value of the specimen."
"Excellent." Alcaster returned his attention to the book before him, dismissing the servant with a wave. "Inform me when confirmation of delivery is received from the Rosward estate."
The servant bowed and departed, leaving Alcaster alone with his thoughts—and with Koala, who was organizing books on a nearby shelf, her expression neutral now that they were in private.
"You seem concerned, young master," she observed softly, her perceptiveness continuing to develop as her conditioning weakened.
"Do I?" Alcaster replied, careful to neither confirm nor deny her observation. "Perhaps I'm simply focused on my studies."
Koala said nothing more, but her quick glance suggested she wasn't entirely convinced by his nonchalance. In the weeks since her arrival, she had developed an increasingly nuanced understanding of the complex dynamics surrounding her new master—including his unusual relationship with the fishman instructor.
The next few hours would be critical. If all went according to plan, Fisher Tiger would overpower Jenks at the predetermined point along the transport route, make his way to the maintenance access, and begin his descent down the Red Line before anyone realized he was missing.
The initial alarm wouldn't be raised until he failed to arrive at the Rosward estate—by which time he would already be well on his way to freedom. The subsequent search would be disorganized and misdirected, especially during the guard rotation when command structures were in flux.
But plans, however carefully crafted, rarely survived contact with reality unscathed. All Alcaster could do now was wait and be prepared to adapt to whatever actually unfolded.
The first indication that something had gone awry came three hours later, when frantic footsteps approached Alcaster's study, followed by an urgent knock that violated normal protocols for addressing a Celestial Dragon.
"Enter," Alcaster called, already suspecting what news awaited.
A palace official burst in, his face pale with anxiety. "Young master, forgive the intrusion, but there's been an incident with your fishman slave during transport."
Alcaster set aside his book, arranging his features into an expression of mild annoyance rather than concern. "What sort of incident?"
"He's escaped, young master," the official reported, clearly dreading the response. "Guard Jenks reports that the fishman broke his restraints and attacked him near the eastern quadrant transit route. Jenks was rendered unconscious and only recently managed to raise the alarm."
"I see." Alcaster allowed his expression to darken appropriately. "And where is this incompetent guard now?"
"Being treated for his injuries, young master. The fishman apparently struck him with considerable force before fleeing."
"Has the Rosward family been informed that their expected delivery will not be arriving?" Alcaster asked, focusing on the social implications rather than the escape itself—exactly as a true Celestial Dragon would prioritize.
"Yes, young master," the official confirmed, wincing slightly. "Saint Shalulia expressed... significant displeasure."
"No doubt," Alcaster nodded, rising from his desk with a show of irritation. "I should address this personally. Where is the search currently focused?"
"The western approaches to the central plaza, young master. It's believed the slave may be seeking access to the main elevator."
Exactly the opposite direction from where Fisher Tiger would actually be heading—good. The initial confusion was working in their favor.
"Incompetence upon incompetence," Alcaster muttered, playing his role as the affronted owner. "Take me to the search coordinator immediately. Perhaps someone with actual intelligence should direct this effort."
"Of course, young master," the official bowed deeply. "Right away."
As they departed the study, Alcaster noticed Koala's carefully blank expression. She had been present for the entire exchange, hearing news of Fisher Tiger's escape without revealing any reaction—though he suspected her internal response was far from neutral.
There would be time to address that later. For now, he needed to maintain his performance as an outraged Celestial Dragon while subtly ensuring the search remained ineffective until Fisher Tiger had successfully escaped.
"The eastern maintenance tunnels?" Alcaster suggested to the harried search coordinator, a mid-ranking officer clearly overwhelmed by suddenly being responsible for tracking down an escaped slave owned by a Celestial Dragon. "They connect to multiple access points throughout the central district."
The coordinator, a Marine Captain named Dobson, nodded eagerly at the suggestion. "An excellent observation, young master. We'll redirect search teams immediately."
They were standing in the makeshift command center established near the main plaza. Around them, guards and officials rushed about in organized chaos, their efforts hampered by the ongoing rotation of personnel that had fortuitously coincided with Fisher Tiger's escape.
"Though I would recommend focusing on the lower sections first," Alcaster added casually. "The upper maintenance areas are regularly patrolled and would offer few hiding places."
This subtle misdirection would send search teams away from the actual escape route Fisher Tiger would be using—the upper maintenance access that connected to the elevator cable housing.
"Of course, young master," Captain Dobson agreed, immediately relaying the instructions to his subordinates. "Your insights are most valuable."
For the next two hours, Alcaster remained at the command center, offering occasional "helpful" suggestions that systematically directed the search away from Fisher Tiger's actual route while maintaining the appearance of a concerned owner eager to recover valuable property.
Reports filtered in from throughout Mary Geoise—possible sightings, suspicious circumstances, theories about the fishman's intentions—all of which only added to the confusion and divided the already stretched search resources.
Guard Jenks was eventually brought before Alcaster to explain his failure—a battered, terrified man who clearly expected severe punishment for losing such valuable "property."
"He seemed perfectly docile, young master," Jenks stammered, nursing a spectacular bruise across his jaw. "Then suddenly, as we passed the eastern maintenance junction, he just... exploded. Broke the restraints like they were paper. I tried to subdue him, but he moved so fast..."
"Restraints you were responsible for securing properly," Alcaster noted coldly. "Tell me, Guard Jenks, did you perhaps consider taking a shortcut through the maintenance corridors rather than following the prescribed transport route?"
Jenks paled further, confirming Alcaster's suspicion without words. "I... thought it would be more efficient, young master. The main promenade was crowded with the rotation ceremonies, and I wanted to ensure timely delivery to the Rosward estate."
"Your 'efficiency' has cost me a valuable instructor and embarrassed my family before the Roswards," Alcaster stated, his tone glacial. "I will be discussing appropriate consequences with my father."
It was a masterful performance—placing all blame on the guard while reinforcing his own image as a typical Celestial Dragon concerned with property and status.
As the search extended into evening with no success, Alcaster finally allowed himself to be persuaded to return to the Reed family compound, extracting promises of continued effort from Captain Dobson and assurances that he would be immediately notified of any developments.
By now, if all had gone according to plan, Fisher Tiger would be well into his descent down the Red Line, beyond the reach of any search parties Mary Geoise could muster.
The first phase of their plan had succeeded.
"They say he broke the chains like they were made of glass," the kitchen slave whispered to his companion, unaware that Koala was within earshot as she collected Alcaster's evening tea tray. "Tossed that guard twenty feet into a wall. They're saying no fishman that strong has ever been seen in Mary Geoise."
"Will they catch him?" the other slave asked, voice barely audible.
A snort of derision. "Not likely. Word is he's already made it to the outer perimeter. Some are saying he might even try for the elevator cables."
"That's suicide," the second slave whispered. "No one could survive that climb."
"Maybe for a human. But a fishman? Who knows what they're capable of."
Their conversation abruptly ceased as a supervisor entered the kitchen, but Koala had heard enough. She carefully maintained her neutral expression as she carried the tea tray back to Alcaster's study, her mind racing with implications.
Inside the study, Alcaster sat at his desk, apparently absorbed in writing notes about the day's events. He looked up as Koala entered, his expression revealing nothing unusual.
"Your tea, young master," she said softly, placing the tray on his desk.
"Thank you, Koala." He gestured for her to close the door, ensuring their privacy.
Once they were alone, Alcaster studied her face carefully. "You've heard the news, I imagine. The slaves talk, even when they think no one is listening."
Koala hesitated, then nodded once, abandoning the pretense that she was unaware of the day's dramatic events.
"Fisher Tiger," she said, the name itself a small act of defiance—referring to a slave by name rather than function or status.
"Yes," Alcaster confirmed simply.
A silence stretched between them, laden with unspoken questions and implications. Finally, Koala gathered her courage.
"Did he really escape?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "Will they... will they catch him?"
The questions revealed both hope and fear—hope that freedom was possible, fear of what might happen if the powerful fishman was recaptured.
"I believe," Alcaster said carefully, "that Fisher Tiger possesses extraordinary capabilities. The search has thus far proven completely ineffective."
It wasn't a direct confirmation of his involvement or knowledge, but the subtle emphasis spoke volumes to someone as perceptive as Koala had become.
"The kitchen slaves said he might try to climb down the elevator cables," she ventured, watching Alcaster's expression closely.
"An interesting theory," he replied neutrally. "The descent would be challenging but perhaps not impossible for someone of his strength and endurance."
Again, not confirmation—but not denial either.
Koala's eyes took on a distant quality, as if seeing possibilities previously unimagined. "If he makes it to the bottom... he'll be free."
"Freedom is a complex concept," Alcaster noted. "Physical escape is only one aspect. True freedom requires preparation, resources, and often... help."
The implication hung in the air between them—a dangerous, tantalizing suggestion that freedom might be possible with the right preparation and assistance.
Koala absorbed this, her expression thoughtful. "The other slaves... they're talking differently tonight. Whispering more. Looking up instead of down."
It was a profound observation—the psychological impact of Fisher Tiger's escape rippling through the slave population of Mary Geoise. Even if most would never attempt such a desperate bid for freedom, the mere fact that one of their number had dared to try—and might succeed—changed something fundamental in the atmosphere.
Hope, however faint, had entered a place designed to crush it completely.
"People find strength in unexpected examples," Alcaster said quietly. "Even if they themselves cannot follow the same path."
Koala's eyes met his directly—a rare occurrence that signified the importance of this moment. "Do you think he'll come back? For the others?"
It was a dangerous question, bordering on discussion of slave rebellion—a capital offense even to mention. But the trust between them had grown deep enough for her to risk it.
"History suggests," Alcaster replied with careful precision, "that those who achieve freedom often remember those left behind."
Koala nodded slowly, understanding the deliberate vagueness of his answer while grasping its essential truth.
"Sleep well tonight, Koala," Alcaster said, gently shifting toward more neutral territory. "Tomorrow will bring many questions and disruptions as the search continues."
"Yes, young master," she replied, slipping back into her formal role. But as she turned to leave, Alcaster noticed something he hadn't seen before—the faintest hint of a genuine smile, not the fixed rictus of conditioning, but a small expression of authentic hope.
Fisher Tiger's escape had affected more than just the physical security of Mary Geoise. It had created the first crack in the psychological walls that imprisoned those who remained.
Dawn brought new developments that confirmed what Alcaster already suspected—Fisher Tiger had successfully evaded capture through the night. The search had expanded to include the waters around the Red Line's base, with Marine vessels deployed to intercept any suspicious movement.
But these efforts were performative rather than practical. If Fisher Tiger had indeed successfully descended the elevator cables, he would have reached the ocean hours before any search vessels could be mobilized. His superior swimming ability and knowledge of underwater currents would make pursuit virtually impossible.
Captain Dobson delivered the update personally to the Reed family compound, looking haggard after a sleepless night coordinating the failed search.
"We believe the fishman may have attempted the cable descent, young master," he reported to Alcaster in the family's reception hall. "Maintenance crews discovered evidence of recent activity in the cable housing, and a security barrier on level four was found damaged."
"So your incompetence extends beyond merely allowing the escape," Alcaster observed coldly. "You failed to secure potential escape routes despite my specific suggestion to examine the maintenance areas."
Dobson paled visibly. "The search was conducted according to standard protocols, young master. The cable housing wasn't prioritized because... because no slave has ever attempted such a route before. The descent would be nearly impossible to survive."
"Clearly your understanding of fishman capabilities is as limited as your search coordination skills," Alcaster replied. "Have Marine vessels been deployed to the waters below?"
"Yes, young master. A full squadron is conducting pattern searches of the surrounding area."
"Too little, too late," Alcaster dismissed with contempt perfectly calibrated to match a Celestial Dragon's expected reaction. "If he reached the water, your surface vessels will be useless against a shark fishman's speed and endurance underwater."
Dobson had no defense to offer, accepting the criticism with the resignation of someone who knew his career prospects had just diminished considerably.
"The World Government will expect a full accounting of this security failure," Alcaster continued, twisting the knife. "I suggest you prepare your explanation carefully, Captain."
"Yes, young master," Dobson bowed deeply. "The investigation will continue with all available resources."
"See that it does," Alcaster nodded dismissively. "Though I hold little hope for success given the evident incompetence thus far."
After Dobson's departure, Alcaster's father summoned him to his private study—an expected development given the significance of the escape.
"An unfortunate situation," Saint Dominus Reed observed as Alcaster entered. "Your fishman instructor was a valuable asset."
"Indeed, Father," Alcaster agreed. "His knowledge of underwater combat techniques was proving quite educational."
His father studied him for a moment, assessing. "The Rosward family has expressed dissatisfaction regarding the failed delivery. Shalulia in particular seems to feel personally slighted."
"I apologize for any embarrassment this has caused our family," Alcaster replied carefully. "The negligence shown by Guard Jenks is inexcusable."
"Hmm." His father leaned back in his chair, still watching him closely. "The guard will be appropriately disciplined, of course. But I find myself curious about the timing of this incident, Alcaster."
A subtle warning flag raised in Alcaster's mind. His father's tone suggested more than casual interest.
"The timing, Father?"
"Yes." Dominus tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his desk. "A valuable slave escapes during transport rather than during one of your private training sessions. During a guard rotation that thins security resources. Along a route that happens to pass near a maintenance access point leading to the elevator cables." He raised an eyebrow. "Quite a remarkable confluence of circumstances, wouldn't you agree?"
The question was pointed, carrying clear implications of suspicion. Alcaster maintained perfect composure, meeting his father's gaze steadily.
"Fortune often favors the prepared, Father," he replied. "Even slaves can recognize and exploit opportunities when they arise. It's why proper security protocols are essential—a lesson Guard Jenks has now learned at considerable cost."
It was neither confirmation nor denial, but rather a redirection that acknowledged the suspicious timing while attributing it to Fisher Tiger's own intelligence rather than any external assistance.
His father considered this for a long moment before nodding slightly. "Indeed. A lesson for all of us about underestimating even those we consider inferior." He straightened some papers on his desk, seemingly satisfied with Alcaster's response. "You'll need a new combat instructor, of course. I'll make inquiries for a suitable replacement."
"Thank you, Father."
"In the meantime," Dominus continued, "I suggest maintaining a low profile with the Rosward family until this incident fades from immediate memory. Their goodwill remains important to our family's interests."
"Of course, Father. I'll be appropriately contrite when next we meet."
The conversation had navigated dangerous waters, with his father's suspicions acknowledged but not confirmed. For now, that would have to suffice—though Alcaster made a mental note to be even more careful in his future operations. His father was clearly more perceptive than he had anticipated.
As he returned to his own quarters, Alcaster allowed himself a moment of private satisfaction despite the morning's tensions. Fisher Tiger had escaped. The fishman was now free to pursue his own path, which would eventually lead him back to Mary Geoise on a mission of liberation that would shake the Celestial Dragons' complacency to its core.
The first major piece of Alcaster's long-term strategy had moved successfully into position. Now he needed only to prepare for what would come next—including ensuring Koala would be ready when Fisher Tiger's promised return created chaos throughout the Holy Land.
A storm was brewing on the horizon, invisible to most but increasingly clear to those who knew where to look. And Alcaster intended to be perfectly positioned when it finally broke over Mary Geoise.