The sea that morning carried the weight of lead-gray skies. Heavy clouds pressed low like floating boulders, their shadows dragging across the restless surface. The wind howled, squeezing itself through the jagged cracks of the cliffs, only to break free in long, mournful wails, like the shrieks of a warning. Waves hammered against the vertical walls of stone, bursting into blinding sprays of white foam. Everything in the world seemed to whisper to the reckless: "Do not enter."
Aerax and Minoros stood on a high ledge where the sea relentlessly threw briny spray onto their fur and skin. Ahead of them, the ocean opened into darkness: a massive cavern mouth gaped wide, like the maw of some beast at rest—yet ready to bite shut at any second. From its depths came a low, guttural rumble, heavy and rhythmic, echoing like the breath of something colossal asleep in the dark. The air drifting out was thick and foul, reeking not only of rotting seaweed but of something far worse: the stench of long-dead flesh, putrid and sour, strong enough to churn the stomach.
Minoros lifted a hand, checking the leather strap binding the warhammer across his back. The white bull's arm fur stood on end beneath the whip of the cold wind, but his eyes gleamed steady, unwavering. He glanced toward Aerax—the black horse gripping his long blade so tightly that his knuckles whitened, gaze locked on the cavern's darkness.
"The water inside rises to the waist," Minoros muttered in his gravel-deep voice, tilting his head slightly. "You sure you'll manage?"
Aerax did not look back. His black eyes, bottomless as a void, refused to release the shadows before them. "I cannot swim…" —he ground out each word, cold breath fogging in the wind— "…but that doesn't mean I'll drown before it." His tone was dry and rough, stone scraping against stone, heavy but unyielding.
No further words were needed. They began the descent. Their hands gripped damp, salt-slick ridges of rock, fingers digging into patches of moss and sharp barnacles. Their heavy feet sought narrow holds, sliding slightly before finding balance. Slowly, steadily, they moved down. The storm winds lashed seawater across their faces, bitter with salt.
When Aerax stepped into the edge of the water, it was as if knives sliced his skin. This was no ordinary cold—it pierced straight through flesh into bone, coiling around the marrow, locking muscles stiff. The tide struck against his legs, climbing inch by inch as they advanced deeper into the cave.
Within only a few steps, the world dissolved into darkness. The cavern ceiling sloped lower, veiled in pallid sea moss. Patches of that moss emitted a faint green glow, like stray fireflies, enough to paint the rippling surface of the water in ghostly hues. Droplets fell from above, tapping in a steady rhythm, joining the muffled thunder of waves echoing inward. It all melded into a heavy monotone, a slow heartbeat—the heartbeat of some leviathan slumbering in the dark.
The water rose to their waists. Each step became a private battle: Aerax's thighs and calves strained, cords of muscle trembling against the drag of the current. He felt invisible chains around his legs, pulling him back toward the sea. His breathing grew shallow, not only from exertion but from the quiet swell of dread creeping through him.
Minoros led the way, his broad form cutting through the flow, each stride parting the water like a prow. Over his shoulder, he called in a steady tone:
"Short steps. Keep your weight low. If you fall, you won't rise easily."
Aerax nodded once, eyes fixed on the murky water. He dared not look too long at his own wavering reflection—it seemed to beckon him downward, to drown him in its pull.
Then it came. A sound like a blade slicing the air—long, shrill, piercing. The noise stabbed straight into their skin. The water before them churned violently, bubbling into froth, spiraling into a whirl. From it, something vast and terrible rose.
The sea beast.
Its body stretched like a serpent's, armored in dark green scales slick with slime, reflecting the mosslight like dirty jade. Its head spread wide, jaws opening to reveal rows of curved fangs, hooks upon hooks of bone glinting in the dim. Each crack of those teeth made a sickening "khak-khak," echoing against the cavern walls. Along its spine, jagged black spines jutted upward like a row of spears ready to impale. And trailing at the far end of its winding length was something strange: a narrow, uneven tail—small, fragile compared to the rest, flicking lightly beneath the surface.
Minoros's jaw clenched, voice low and sharp. "That's the weakness. Cut it, and it dies."
The monster unleashed a roar, a sound like stone grinding apart under the weight of the sea. Its eyes, each as large as a shield, blazed with emerald fury. Then it surged forward, raising a tidal wave with its bulk.
The current slammed Aerax backward. He staggered, nearly toppling, but rammed his blade into the rocky bottom, anchoring himself. The stench of brine and rot burned his throat raw.
Minoros swung his hammer. The impact boomed deep through the cavern, and scales burst apart in shards, rattling as they fell into the water. Thick green blood spurted out, and wherever it touched the stone, white smoke hissed upward, acid gnawing with furious sizzle.
"Stay clear of its blood!" Aerax roared, lunging aside as a streak of tainted water splashed past. But the beast wheeled, its massive jaws gaping wide as it lunged for him. Aerax raised his sword just in time. Steel shrieked across its mucus-coated hide, cutting only a shallow gash. More of that poisonous ichor gushed forth, spreading across the water, staining it a foul cloud of toxic green.
A crashing wave hurled Minoros into the cavern wall. Stone boomed, but he snarled through clenched teeth, refusing to lose his grip on the hammer. With a grunt, he shoved the weapon outward, forcing space between himself and the monster's bulk.
"Lure it closer to the rocks!" he bellowed, voice reverberating through the din.
Aerax understood instantly. He edged toward the jagged cliff wall, searching for a raised ledge. Meanwhile, Minoros swung again and again, battering its flanks, drawing the beast's twisting body around. Its tail swept dangerously in arcs, slicing the water.
Then its vulnerable end exposed itself. Aerax launched forward, blade ready.
But the serpent lashed. Its tail whipped like an iron scourge. Aerax was flung through the air, crashing down into the depths.
The cold seized him whole. Heavy, crushing, the sea clamped down, dragging him into blackness. His ears rang, chest burned, lungs screamed for air. Yet his hands never released the sword. His legs kicked frantically, boots scraping stone beneath, finding purchase just enough to hurl himself upward.
He burst back into the open, coughing violently, breath shredded and desperate. No time to recover. Ahead, Minoros roared again, hammer descending on the monster's skull, forcing it to shriek and whip around.
Aerax lunged through the waist-high current, each stride a war against the water's grip. Closer, closer—he waited, eyes locked on that tail. The creature coiled, turning its fangs on Minoros once more. In that instant, its tail lay bare.
Aerax leapt. His body cut through the air like a spear. His blade flashed, cold and merciless. The steel carved through flesh and tendon, cleaving the tail free.
A geyser of green blood erupted skyward, splattering down in thick, toxic rain.
The beast's scream was ear-splitting, rattling the cavern's stones. Its titanic body convulsed, thrashing violently. Walls of water surged, smashing Aerax against the rocks. Pain stabbed through his ribs and shoulder, but he clung to his sword. Minoros lunged forward, seizing Aerax's arm, anchoring them both as the current raged.
The monster let out one final roar. Its emerald eyes dimmed, fading to dull stone. Its bulk shuddered, sagged, and then collapsed beneath the waves. The water spiraled briefly, then stilled. Only the lingering stench of blood and poison remained, curling into the air like a shroud.
Minoros heaved for breath, chest rising and falling hard. "You can't swim, yet you dove at it anyway…" He tilted his head toward Aerax, his tone half rebuke, half admiration. "…madman."
Aerax managed a faint, crooked smile, lips pale. "Better… than letting it live."
Minoros steadied his hammer on his shoulder, his breathing calming. Aerax tightened his grip on the sword, eyes narrowing on the deeper darkness further within the cavern. He could feel it—another presence still waiting in the shadows.
And they both knew: the true battle… had yet to begin.