The next morning, Jiro appeared at the kitchen door, carrying a leather satchel and wearing boots instead of his usual indoor slippers.

  "If you truly wish to understand fish, you must see them with your own eyes." He gestured toward the harbor. "We go to the sea."

  The port buzzed with activity despite the early hour. Fishermen hauled nets from their boats while merchants examined the catch by lantern light. Salt and brine hung thick in the air, mixing with the smoke from cooking fires where vendors prepared breakfast for the dock workers.

  Jiro led Clive through the chaos to a boat where three men prepared their nets. The captain, a middle-aged man with sun-darkened skin, greeted Jiro.

  "Master Jiro. You still want to see the big fish?"

  "Yes, Captain Torres. Master Thornwald guest needs to witness the hunt."

  A figure in deep blue robes approached from the stern, stepping carefully around coiled ropes and fishing equipment. Salt crystals clung to the fabric's hem, and frost sparkled along the edges of his sleeves despite the morning warmth.

  "Excuse me, sir. Are you the anomaly?"

  Clive straightened. The last person to use that term was Magister Valen at the Arcanum, and he didn’t have a good impression of him. Clive's grip on the rail tightened in anticipation of an unpleasant interaction.

  "I saw you there, sir. During your meeting with the Archmage. They say your demonstration with paint was... remarkable. Everyone’s saying that you truly are an anomaly."

  Clive gritted his teeth. The person seemed harmless but annoying.

  "I have a name. It's Clive."

  "Of course. My apologies." The man inclined his head. "Aaron Snow, third-class mage from the Arcanum. Frost magic specialty." He motioned toward the crates of ice scattered across the deck. "Lord Thornwald contracted the Arcanum for preservation services. I'm who they sent."

  Jiro stepped closer. "You know this mage?"

  "We've never met formally." Clive studied Aaron's face—young, probably late teens to early-twenties, with the pale complexion of someone who spent most of his time indoors studying. "But apparently my reputation precedes me."

  Jiro observed Aaron for a long moment, then muttered under his breath, "The Arcanum grows cheaper every year."

  Aaron's face flushed. "Excuse me?"

  "Lord Thornwald pays premium rates for experienced frost magic. And they send someone who still has chalk dust on his robes."

  "I graduated top of my class," Aaron said, "My ice crystallization techniques are textbook perfect."

  "Textbook." Jiro nodded slowly. "How many fishing expeditions have you worked?"

  "This is my... seventh assignment."

  "Seventh." Jiro turned to examine one of the ice crates. "Your ice is melting too quickly."

  Aaron moved to the crate, frowning. "Impossible. It’s a tier two ice spell."

  "The fish won’t care about your fancy spell tiers."

  "My techniques are sound," Aaron insisted, though uncertainty had crept into his voice.

  "Perhaps." Jiro returned his attention to the horizon. "We will see how well your sound techniques preserve a two-hundred-pound tuna."

  Aaron opened his mouth to respond, then seemed to think better of it. He retreated to his ice crates, muttering incantations under his breath as he reinforced the preservation spells.

  Captain Torres called out from the helm. "We're clear of the shallows. Time to find some fish."

  They sailed beyond the harbor into deeper waters. The sun climbed higher, turning the sea from black to deep blue. Clive's seasickness gradually faded as he focused on the horizon.

  "There," Captain Torres pointed to a disturbance in the water about fifty yards away. "Feeding frenzy."

  Seabirds dove and circled above churning foam. The crew moved with swiftness, adjusting sails and preparing their largest net. Jiro stepped closer to the rail, his eyes firmly on the water.

  "Bluefin," he said quietly. "Two hundred pounds, maybe more."

  The boat positioned itself near the feeding school. Captain Torres shouted orders as the crew deployed their net in a wide circle.

  "Now we wait," Jiro explained. "The tuna will exhaust itself fighting the net. We cannot risk damaging the meat with harpoons or hooks."

  After twenty minutes, the largest fish had tired enough for the crew to haul it aboard. It landed on the deck with a thunderous impact, its body still twitching with residual life. Clive had never seen a fish so enormous.

  Captain Torres drew a long knife and positioned it behind the fish's head. One swift cut, and the tuna went still.

  "Now comes the important part," Jiro said, kneeling beside the massive fish. He placed his hand on its flank, feeling for something Clive couldn't identify. "The blood must be drained immediately, or the meat will spoil."

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  A crew member appeared with a bucket of seawater mixed with crushed ice. But instead of ordinary ice, Clive noticed the crystals seemed to melt directly into vapor, creating wisps of cold fog that drifted across the deck.

  Aaron stepped forward, gesturing to the bucket with obvious pride. "Tier two ice magic. We call it dry ice. Rather than frozen water, it uses frozen air instead, maintaining far lower temperatures than water ice. The sublimation process prevents any liquid contamination while—"

  "It maintains temperature longer and freezes more evenly than natural ice," Jiro interrupted, his tone clinical. "Essential for preserving the fish during transport."

  "The sublimation rate is actually quite sophisticated," Aaron tried again, addressing Clive. "Our research indicates that different components of air actually freeze at a different temperatures, creating a multi—"

  "Does it keep the fish cold?" Jiro asked without looking up.

  "Well, yes."

  "Then it serves its purpose." Jiro began directing the crew as they sectioned the tuna, packing each piece methodically in Aaron's dry ice. “Quit yapping and go reinforce the ice. If the tuna loses their freshness, I’m asking for a refund.”

  Aaron's face reddened, but he moved to the storage crates without argument. He extended his hands over the containers, muttering incantations as frost crystallized in the air above his palms. The dry ice reformed itself.

  Seeing a tier two ice spell up close, Clive felt his heartbeat quicken. He had reached tier two for fire and earth spells. Now, he had an opportunity for ice spells.

  “Let me try as well,” Clive said.

  Aaron paused mid-spell, eyebrows raised. "You can cast ice magic?”

  Clive had already pulled out his brush and palette. Seeing the spell cast up close, he could analyze its structure with his [Artist’s Eye]. Aaron's dry ice formed as solid white chunks, opaque and dense, with vapor streaming off in steady wisps.

  He'd seen dry ice in passing before but never really studied it. Now, with his enhanced vision, the differences became obvious. Water ice carried that subtle bluish tinge caused by light refracting through frozen crystals and trapped air. But dry ice was pure white, chalky and opaque like compressed snow, with none of the translucent quality of frozen water. The surface had a matte finish.

  [Paint: White Dry Ice II]

  He dipped his brush in pure white paint, capturing that flat, powdery opacity. The painting shimmered as it took physical form. Dense white dry ice materialized exactly where Clive had drawn it, vapor immediately beginning to curl upward from its surface.

  Captain Torres, who had been securing the tuna's head section, stopped mid-motion. "Did he just... paint ice into existence?"

  Aaron's mouth hung open. “By the light. I heard what they say, but seeing it is still unbelievable. You really are an anomaly.”

  Jiro examined the ice before finally mumbling. “Lord Thornwald always has the most interesting guests.”

  The crew gathered around to observe Clive but Captain Torres clapped his hands. "Enough gawking. We have work to do before this fish spoils."

  The crew worked quickly to clean and section the tuna, packing each piece in the magical ice. Jiro supervised every cut, occasionally adjusting their technique or pointing out subtle differences in the meat's color and texture.

  "See here," he showed Clive a piece of deep red flesh from near the spine. "This is otoro—the fattiest portion. It will melt on the tongue like butter. And this," he indicated a lighter colored section, "is akami. Leaner, but with more concentrated flavor."

  The boat continued working the fishing grounds, hauling up nets filled with other delicacies. Prawns that were red even in their raw state, and spiny, dark shells that Jiro handled with reverence.

  "Uni," Jiro explained, selecting one of the purple-black spheres. The shell was covered in sharp spines that looked capable of puncturing skin. "You have to try this."

  He produced a small knife and cracked the shell open, revealing bright orange custard-like substance inside. With a spoon, he scooped up a portion of the vivid gel and offered it to Clive.

  "It's not as good as the ones from the eastern waters, but still excellent quality."

  Clive accepted the spoon hesitantly and placed it on his tongue.

  The texture was soft and creamy, melting immediately with a taste that was both briny and sweet—like ocean ice cream. Rich and buttery.

  "Delicious. What is this exactly?"

  "Sea urchin gonads."

  Clive's throat convulsed. The thought of it made him nauseous but the taste of it kept it down his throat.

  Jiro watched his reaction with mild amusement. "In the east, we say the best delicacies require you to overcome your preconceptions first."

  Aaron, who had been observing from a safe distance, wrinkled his nose. "You actually eat... reproductive organs?"

  "The finest sushi ingredient in the world," Jiro said matter-of-factly. "Once you accept what it is, you can appreciate what it tastes like."

  Back in the Thornwald kitchen, Clive spread his sketchbook across the wooden work surface. The previous day at sea had filled his mind with precise images.

  He knew what properly prepared shari looked like now. Each grain distinct and airy, seasoned uniformly without the sticky clumping that had plagued his early attempts. He understood how the different cuts of tuna revealed their quality through color—the marbled richness of fatty belly meat versus the clean red of the back and sides.

  His brush moved across the page. He started with the foundation—perfectly formed nigiri bases, each one exactly two hundred forty-seven grains as Jiro had taught him. Then came the fish, rendered with microscopic attention to the grain structure and fat distribution he'd observed during the butchering process.

  The sketch shimmered and materialized across the kitchen counter. Twelve courses of sushi appeared exactly as he'd envisioned them.

  [Level up] x2

  [Consumable Illustration Lv 3]

  [Item Created: Sushi Omakase Course (High Quality)]

  Power Level x 1.1

  HP x 1.1

  MP x 1.1

  Jiro arrived at the Thornwald kitchen an hour later. He stopped short when he saw the array of sushi spread across the counter.

  He approached slowly, examining each piece before selecting the chu-toro nigiri and placing it on his tongue. His expression remained neutral as he chewed, but Clive caught the slight widening of his eyes. The sushi master moved through several more pieces methodically.

  After tasting half the meal, Jiro set down his chopsticks and looked directly at Clive.

  "It took me years to master the art of sushi," he said quietly. "My sensei in Higakuni made me practice rice washing for years before I was allowed to touch fish. Another year passed before I could shape nigiri that met his standards."

  He gestured at the remaining courses on the counter.

  "And you have done it in less than a month."

  Clive waited for criticism, for some flaw Jiro had identified that would send him back to the basics. Instead, the master picked up another piece. This time, the sea bream with its delicate soy glaze.

  "The technique is flawless," Jiro continued. "The proportions are exact. Even the temperature of the rice is correct." He paused, handing Clive his chef's knife. “Congratulations, Clive, you are now a sushi master.”

  SUSHI OMAKASE

  Chef's Selection

  NIGIRI SELECTION

  Kohada (Gizzard Shad)

  Aji (Horse Mackerel)

  Hirame (Fluke)

  Amaebi (Sweet Shrimp)

  Hotategai (Scallop)

  Uni (Sea Urchin)

  Ikura (Salmon Roe)

  Akami (Lean Tuna)

  Chu-Toro (Medium Fatty Tuna)

  O-Toro (Fatty Tuna Belly)

  Tai (Sea Bream)

  Anago (Sea Eel)

  Prepared by Clive Weston

  Under the guidance of Master Jiro Saito

  Thornwald Estate Kitchen, Marblehaven