Chapter 464: A Far Away Tale – A View of the Remaining Sea

It looked as if a being from the abyss were staring at Kavila through a fissure in the world.

A squirming mass of flesh filled the interior of the ruined house.

Its bulbous eye writhed grotesquely between bulging chunks of meat, and from beyond the fissures, tendrils slithered and reached out.

Fear is born from experience.

Humans fear tigers because history and survival have taught them to.

So those seeing the creature for the first time crumpled their faces in a mix of confusion, awe, and revulsion.

The same was true for the creature.

A moment of silence passed, then the eye between the fleshy folds darted.

Kavila stared at the massive eye and murmured.

“An octopus. Kraken-class.”

Enraged by the collapse of its hiding place, the octopus lashed out with its limbs.

Through windows, roof gaps, and cracks in the walls, sucker-covered arms shot out toward Kavila.

Each thick, sinewy limb was a weapon in its own right; even a glancing strike was enough to bring down stone walls.

Kavila hurled a bone needle as she muttered.

“It’s a sea beast that lives between the rocks. Given its size, they’re rarely seen near shore, usually around the Island Whale. I don’t even remember the last time I saw one.”

From the bone needle, Dragonfang Puppets sprouted and charged to protect her.

Bone swords and saws swung toward the octopus’s limbs, but they barely cut the slimy, rubbery flesh.

While the Dragonfang Puppets hesitated, the octopus crushed them with its limbs.

Then, shaking off the interference, it grabbed Kavila with another arm.

Crunch.

The octopus squeezed as if to crush her completely.

A normal human would have been pulverized instantly, but Kavila remained calm even as her body was crushed.

“It’s not really dangerous once it’s on land, though.”

Slice.

A massive pincer clamped down on the octopus’s limb.

It was Kavila’s lobster puppet.

Though the limb withstood the first strike, the pincer, following Kavila’s command, repeatedly crushed and tore at the flesh.

When the bone swords joined in, the limb was finally severed.

Falling to the ground, Kavila manipulated her Blood Aura.

The severed limb twitched, trying to crawl back to its body, but her blood seeped into the cut, disrupting its movements.

As the impurity seeped in, the limb convulsed and curled.

Then, red blood infused it, and the octopus’s limb became Kavila’s obedient servant.

Valdamir, who had watched her fight in silence, asked.

“The conclusion?”

The moment the octopus came ashore, its fate had been sealed.

While the Dragonfang Puppets and the lobster puppet shredded its body, Kavila turned to Valdamir with a shaken face and replied,

“…There was a clash between the Island Whale and the Cloud Manta. Otherwise, there’s no way a tide this strong would hit during the ebb.”

“I see.”

“I see? Is that all? You’re not sis! If I give you information, you need to produce results! You keep ordering me around like it’s expected, but don’t forget! We’re equals!”

Of course, even as she spoke, Kavila knew it wasn’t true.

Valdamir was stronger and had quelled a rebellion against the Progenitor.

He was, without question, the highest authority beneath her in the Duchy.

Had Tyrkanzyaka’s mood been worse—or had she not known about the King of Humans—Kavila might have become a snack for the Shadow.

More subdued now, she asked.

“So? Care to confess now? How did you know the tide would come and evacuate the humans in advance?”

“I had information.”

“Information? About what’s happening in the distant sea? From who? How? Why?”

Valdamir hesitated.

He knew who—but not how or why.

No, even the who wasn’t certain.

He’d encountered her once in Claudia.

But whatever had visited him then—it was different.

It was human, yes, but something altogether alien.

Like the deep-sea creature they’d just seen.

A different kind of being from any group he’d ever known.

As Valdamir gathered his thoughts, Kavila offered.

“It’s not the Saintess, obviously. The Floating Castle? The ‘Observer’ from the Mage Federation?”

A logical deduction.

The Saintesses were enemies of vampires.

Just as vampires despised the Sanctum, the Sanctum reviled vampires.

It wasn’t impossible that they’d issue a warning if it somehow benefited them, but in their eyes, “benefit” meant the extermination of vampires.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You’re not a liar, so I believe you. But you acted on that and moved people? Without confirmation?”

“That’s why I couldn’t ignore it. Like you said, I was busy with the Progenitor at the time too. But even so, if a mysterious entity offers something helpful, why not take it?”

Kavila was incredulous.

Valdamir was rational and cold.

If he’d doubted this stranger, he would have captured them and extracted information.

Which meant…

“You, the mighty Crimson Duke, couldn’t best them?”

Valdamir answered honestly.

“We didn’t fight.”

“…Huh? You… who disdains all Elders and lives off your own arrogance… you backed down? You’ve gotten soft. What if that person was a Saintess trying to endanger us?”

That was probably the most likely answer, now that she thought about it.

Valdamir nodded.

“True.”

“‘True?’ You talk like you can do anything, but when it comes down to it… so irresponsible…”

Tuning out her grumbling, Valdamir swung his great sword.

The sea beasts that had washed ashore with the tidal surge were dangerous, but not more dangerous than him.

He cleared the shoreline, leaving only corpses for the humans to clean up.

As he neared the original shoreline, something caught his eye.

“What… is that?”

“What do you think I am, a guidebook? I’m not explaining it for you, wait. What is that?”

Even Kavila couldn’t hide her shock at the sight.

Even she had never seen anything like it.

Its sheer scale defied reality.

Even though it was kilometers offshore, the deep navy-streaked thing looked like someone had ripped a slab of earth from somewhere and dropped it in the water.

It was far too massive to have drifted in with the tide.

“Blood…?”

Had they not seen the black-red blood oozing from the cross-section, both Kavila and Valdamir would have mistaken it for an island.

Kavila sensed the alien Blood Aura and muttered.

“Is that… a creature? Or a piece of one? Then…”

“A Leviathan. That must be the Cloud Manta’s fin.”

Its size filled the coastline.

The bleeding wound proved it had once been alive.

As implausible as it seemed, that was the only explanation.

The dark blotches, the long, rib-like cartilage—all pointed to the Cloud Manta.

What could’ve happened to such a massive, majestic beast?

Kavila whispered.

“Did it really fight the Island Whale? Sea beasts are still beasts, I guess… so dumb. They’re not even in the same league…”

“No. That cut wasn’t made by a beast.”

Without fear, Valdamir walked toward the fin.

Kavila hurried after him.

The tide had left seawater waist-deep across the muddy shoreline.

Even for an Elder, the land-sea boundary was a burden.

But Valdamir didn’t care.

He waded forward without hesitation.

Only Kavila, mounted on her lobster puppet, could follow him into those waters.

“Are you trying to die?! That’s seawater! I get that your ego’s inflated lately, but undersea threats are dangerous even for you or me!”

But Valdamir ignored her warning.

He had to see it for himself.

The remains of the Leviathan.

The remains of the Leviathan were a disaster for humans, but for others, they were a feast.

Thousands, tens of thousands of fish gorged themselves on the carcass, bloating their bellies, while predators prowled the edges, snatching prey when they could.

Hundreds of seagulls circled overhead, and dozens of remoras clung to the fin, greedily partaking of the leftovers.

The cross-section of the body was in such chaos from the sheer number of creatures feeding that it was impossible to make anything out.

Some fish had even burrowed into the flesh and made a home inside.

Finding any clue here was near-impossible.

And yet… as a swordsman, Valdamir sensed the trace of a blade amidst this carnage.

Gazing at the long, clean cut of the severed fin, he muttered.

“A single cut?”

“Valdamir! Watch out!”

Kavila’s sharp warning rang out.

Something was approaching, slicing through the water, a sea beast mistaking Valdamir for prey shot toward him like a bullet.

Submerged, his Bloodcraft could not detect it, but he read the disturbance in the water’s flow and swung his great sword beneath the surface.

Clang!

The sea beast’s gaping maw collided with the blade.

Amazingly, Valdamir was the one pushed back.

Unable to fully execute his Geon-Gon underwater, he was knocked off balance as though struck in midair.

The predator, encouraged, lashed its tail and pressed in with even more ferocity.

Crack, crack.

The fierce teeth chipped at the blade.

It had terrifying bite strength.

Now roughly gauging the predator’s power, Valdamir spun his body.

Planting one leg firmly on the seabed, he twisted his shoulders and waist, then channeled that rotational force into a powerful horizontal slash.

The blade cleaved through the water, leaving behind a massive wound.

The slash extended far across the sea, and when the force finally dissipated, a single hapless sea beast had been cut in two.

In seeking a delicacy, it had become one, devoured by other fish.

Even after such a display Valdamir’s expression remained grim.

His strongest sword strike was still nothing compared to the blow that had cleaved the Leviathan’s fin.

And that fin belonged to a creature so massive it could stir tides.

If a mere fish, only slightly larger than a man, could exert such pressure underwater… how much more devastating must the ancient Leviathan have been?

And to think someone had severed its fin in a single cut?

This was not something achievable by strength or skill alone.

It was the realm of those who had reached the Axiom—or perhaps neared the domain of the Divine.

Only the Sword Saint or the Mage King might even be considered capable of such a feat.

But… was it truly them?

Valdamir couldn’t draw a conclusion so easily.

“Something is happening.”

Tyrkanzyaka’s shadow.

The King of Humans.

And now this unknown being who attacked the Leviathan.

One anomaly after another, Valdamir could sense the great undercurrents shifting.

The world is changing.

And those who dwell within it must inevitably change too.

No matter how much they wish to remain the same, a world that moves without mercy will not allow it.

Valdamir once again affirmed that his choices were not a mistake.