The island was quiet.
No ships.
No danger.
No pressure.
Kevin secured the ship along the shallow coast and began repairs immediately.
Wood replaced.
Hull reinforced.
Sails adjusted.
Carina stood nearby, watching silently.
For once, there was no urgency.
No enemy.
No need to react.
And that made everything clearer.
"…I was useless."
Kevin didn't stop working.
"…No."
Carina frowned.
"…Don't say it like that."
Kevin glanced at her briefly.
"…You stabilized the ship."
"…That's not enough."
Silence.
She clenched her fists slightly.
"…If more of them got on board…"
"…I wouldn't be able to stop them."
Kevin continued working.
"…Correct."
That answer hit harder than denial.
Carina looked down.
"…Then I'm just a burden."
Kevin stopped.
Then turned slightly toward her.
"…You are incomplete."
Carina blinked.
"…That's not better."
Kevin shook his head.
"…It means you can improve."
A long pause followed.
The sound of the sea filled the gap.
Then—
Carina lifted her head.
"…Then I'll fix it."
Kevin waited.
"…I don't want to be someone you have to protect."
"…Not like that."
Kevin studied her for a moment.
"…Training requires time."
Carina nodded.
"…Then we stay."
Kevin looked at the ship.
At their supplies.
At the empty horizon.
No threats.
Enough resources.
Time was available.
"…One year."
Carina's eyes widened slightly.
"…That long?"
Kevin nodded.
"…Less is inefficient."
She exhaled slowly.
Then smirked slightly.
"…Fine."
"…Then don't go easy on me."
Kevin replied immediately.
"…I won't."
The training began the next day.
No warm-up phase.
No slow introduction.
Carina ran across uneven terrain until her legs gave out.
Balanced on narrow surfaces until she fell repeatedly.
Climbed. Slipped. Repeated.
"…Again."
Kevin's instructions were simple.
"…Again."
And again.
Days turned into weeks.
Her body adapted first.
Then her awareness.
She began noticing things she never had before.
How weight shifted.
How wind affected balance.
How small movements changed outcomes.
Kevin trained differently.
Every movement had purpose.
Every strike minimized effort.
Every action calculated.
No wasted energy.
Sometimes—
He used his power.
The Death Reaper Fruit.
Not fully.
Just enough.
A faint pressure.
Cold.
Heavy.
Carina froze the first time she felt it.
"…What is that…"
Kevin answered.
"…Death pressure."
It wasn't physical.
It was instinct.
A feeling that one wrong move meant the end.
At first, she couldn't move under it.
But over time—
She adapted.
Not immune.
But resisting.
Months passed.
Carina's movements changed.
No more unstable steps.
No more wasted motion.
She reacted faster.
Moved cleaner.
Stayed balanced even under sudden shifts.
One evening—
She stood across from Kevin.
Holding a wooden blade.
"…Try me."
Kevin stepped forward.
One strike.
She blocked.
Barely.
Second strike.
She adjusted.
Third strike—
She failed.
Fell back.
But didn't drop the weapon.
Kevin nodded slightly.
"…Improved."
Carina smirked.
"…Finally."
The training continued.
Not dramatic.
Not sudden.
But real.
And after one full year—
The island was the same.
But they weren't.
The ship was fully repaired.
Stronger than before.
Carina stepped onto the deck.
Stable.
Natural.
No hesitation.
Kevin raised the sail.
Wind caught instantly.
The ship moved.
Carina looked out at the sea.
"…Feels different."
Kevin replied.
"…Because you are different."
She leaned against the railing.
This time—
Not for support.
Just habit.
"…Next time…"
"…I won't fall behind."
Kevin didn't respond.
The ship cut forward across the sea.
No longer escaping.
No longer surviving.
Now—
Advancing.