Chapter 4
Lightning
Stunned, he stared at the spear once more, unable to take his eyes off it.
He moved his left hand away from his stomach to lift it and inspect it. Seeing it wasn't stained with blood, he felt relieved.
Still, not trusting his eyes or his body, he brought his hand back to his stomach—this time trying to open his still-loose uniform first. Once loosened, he lifted the left side of his shirt.
First, he touched—felt nothing. Then he glanced down.
Nothing.No wound. Just an intense pain in his stomach that was already beginning to fade.
But the headache persisted—though better than before.And now there was something else.
Cold. A terrible cold.
So he grabbed both sides of his open uniform and yanked it backward to take it off. It took effort; it was too soaked.
Still, he let it fall onto the bed.
The shirt was no exception, though most of it was dry. The problem was the front.
So, to keep the damp fabric from sticking so much, he grabbed the collar and pulled it slightly away from his chest.
Feeling a bit better, he turned more attention to the room.
The spear stood embedded in the middle of the room. Behind it, the broken window let in frigid gusts of wind—along with some sea spray, though most came from the rain.
The bed was surprisingly comfortable. The wooden door was reinforced with metal. And to Eilor's right—
A long shelf with several jars. Some filled with liquids, others with organic matter, and others were bags that seemed to hold possibly organic materials.
Most of those bags lay scattered on the floor, along with shards of broken glass.
"I don't think that glass came from the window… maybe alchemy equipment?" Eilor thought, looking at the materials and fragments scattered across the room.
"And the alchemist?" he wondered, leaning forward while holding onto the bed with both hands.
Shaking his head, he tried to get up.
He stood straight, looking at the wreck of a room—everything swaying from side to side.
He took a step.
"Wait… am I… steady?" he thought, noticing how balanced he felt despite the ship still rocking in the violent storm.
"Just like the alchemist… huh?"
A sharp thud.
What—? His face… against the floor? No—he was lying on the floor.
Not understanding what happened, with his stomach and face throbbing, he tried to rise.
"Did the floor… rise?""No. No way. I must've been the one who fell. Did I collapse?"
Bracing with both hands, he pulled his legs under him to push up.
But before he could fully rise, something stopped him—A putrid stench from the door, some distance away.
Step. Drip.He heard something approaching.
Steps. Drips.
He raised his head, turning toward the sound. The door before him revealed—
A monster.
It looked like a blend between human and fish. More a revolting fish head with limbs. Its whole body was a single color—a greenish blue covered in scales. Naked, though lacking any obscene parts, yet so repulsive it made him want to vomit.
A grimace of disgust twisted his face. Then he felt the acid rise in his throat. He tried to hold it back—
But failed, vomiting what little remained in his stomach.
Trying to recover and get up, now irritated by the vomit,
He stood, barely keeping his balance, and inevitably—
Stumbled back against the bed, collapsing onto it.
With a terrible expression of both disgust and rage, he took a breath, trying to stay awake—
But it had the opposite effect.
He coughed hard—then worse.
While the young man fought to stay conscious,
The creature approached—slow, clumsy steps, but steady.
The reinforced metal flooring helped—surprisingly well. The creature's wet body gave it poor balance.
Still, it kept advancing.
Eilor, hunched on the bed, coughed without pause, one hand braced on the mattress, the other searching for something.
Step. Step.It kept coming.
Then Eilor gripped what he had been searching for.
He dropped to his left side on the bed, and with his right arm, lifted and, using the momentum,
Twisted right—hurling his uniform at the creature, blocking its view of him.
The creature stomped hard—cracking the floor under its weight.
It launched forward, stepped again, and stopped sliding, grabbing the spear with its left "hand."
In a swift motion, it took it with both "hands" and stabbed through the uniform without slowing.
The uniform wrapped around it—but it struck and landed on the bed.
Clutching the fabric with its small claws, it tore and shredded it.
Its horrible eyes moved erratically, independently scanning their sockets—searching for Eilor.
It turned slightly right—and saw him, running away.
It rose sharply and, without a full spin, hurled the spear.
Eilor hadn't stopped watching it—though holding his breath, trying not to smell, covering his face with the damp shirt.
All the while, two fingers extended and together—charged with light—aimed at the creature.The moment it turned, he released the charge, firing a not-too-focused bolt that split into a "V."
But the spear was faster, closing in halfway… no—three-quarters.
One branch of the bolt struck it fully, deflecting it slightly and blackening some spots.
Now it headed straight for—Eilor's hand. But since he was still running, it lined up perfectly with his extended fingers.
Before it could get within centimeters—it exploded into dozens of pieces flying around the room.
Some hit the walls, ceiling, floor—Eilor and the creature.
One large shard hit Eilor's leg near the knee, twisting it slightly, toppling him along with the push of the other fragments.
He was about to let out an involuntary scream, but before he could, he cracked an eye open and saw one piece strike a jar on the shelf.
That jar, tied down with cords, broke. Its contents spilled—
A gray mandrake. Its mouth began to open—it was going to scream.
Other fragments hit the fish creature, bouncing off without causing significant damage.
Still others intercepted the other branch of the bolt mid-flight—
Shattering—not alone this time, for the smaller pieces acted as emitters, further splitting the bolt.
Like a grenade and shrapnel—
An orange light filled the room.
Chaotic lightning arced in multiple directions.
One struck the monster. The rest—about a dozen—missed, hitting various parts of the room:
Some on side walls, others the floor, others the ceiling. Some struck the walls beside the door—one even flew out into the hallway.
Others destroyed the few alchemical items left on the shelf. Another hit the bed.
One struck in front of Eilor—but the water pooling by him carried the charge to him.
Another hit the mandrake, burning it—but not silencing it.
Each blast came with sharp, consecutive sounds—like a string of gunshots—
Plus the mandrake's scream, which knocked Eilor unconscious.
Discharge, scream.Discharge, scream.Discharge, scream.
The creature was electrocuted by the attack, its cries half pain, half fury.
Eilor lay unconscious, muscles stiff from the shock.
The mandrake seemed to scream, though no sound came—its body scorched like the rest of the strike points.
It stopped. The discharge hadn't lasted long—less than ten seconds.
Now the creature rose from the bed, turning toward Eilor.
Slightly burned, it steadied itself and spotted him on the floor.
Staggering, it approached—slow, seemingly numb.
As it closed in, something entered from the door—a figure moving and distorting like water.
Instantly, the creature took a defensive stance—then lunged, claws extending until they matched the length of a butcher's knife—
Curving like sickles, swinging right to left.
But the blue, water-like figure contracted onto the floor, then sprang to the ceiling.
The creature lifted its head—but saw nothing. Just a dent, as if something had struck the ceiling.
Drip. Drip.
It lowered its head—feeling thick drops fall onto its legs.
As it looked down, it whimpered in pain—
And saw it—a curved blade piercing its body, stained in deep dark red blood, dripping onto the floor.
It tried to turn—but couldn't. The blade wouldn't allow it. Any attempt twisted agony through it.
A tug—
The blade ripped out, passing through it again. The beast realized—and tried to turn—
Slash.
And suddenly—the world spun.
Wet thud.
Until the spinning stopped… and the world turned red from top to bottom.
The slash was quick, diagonal—decapitating the creature.
Blood sprayed in an arc, staining both floor and wall.
Wet thud. Turn—
The creature's head hit the floor, rolled once, and stopped.
Drip.Drip.
In the middle of the room stood a tall man in a deep-blue coat, matching his deep-blue hair.He held a curved blade, wide at the tip, narrowing toward the hilt—Covered in blood that dripped onto the floor.
He stood still for several seconds, staring at the corpse in two parts.
Then he turned, swung the blade down in a single pull, splattering more blood.
Thud.
The body fell forward.
The man held a scabbard in one hand, sheathing his sword—still streaked with stubborn blood.
"Disgusting—doesn't come off easy," he muttered."What a mess. The alchemist's going to be upset," he said with a grin, surveying the room.
Then he spotted the young man on the floor—first a look of puzzlement, then doubt.
As if ignoring him, he nudged him with the tip of his boot until he rolled over.
He saw Eilor's white eyes and the bit of foam at his mouth.
"Mandrake?" he muttered, raising a brow.
He crouched, scanning the room.
He spotted it on the shelf by the wall—burned, likely by a powerful discharge.
"Ohh…" He turned toward Eilor."So that lightning from the room was yours. And here I thought that fish was some electric variant," he said, touching his neck."Good thing you've got an electricity trick, kid," he added with a smile.
His other hand rested on the sword hilt—
Cut—The sword embedded into the wall.
The mandrake was sliced in half by the blade he had thrown.
"You'll thank me later… I guess," he murmured.
He bent down, slinging Eilor over his shoulder.
"Now I just need that thing," he said, approaching the halved mandrake and the sword in the wall.
He reached for a medium sack at his waist, hooked a thumb inside, and pulled it open.
He grabbed the sword's hilt, yanked—It didn't budge. He grimaced, let go, and instead grabbed the lower half of the mandrake.
He dropped it into the sack—
Then did the same with the upper half, pulling the strings tight in a single motion.
He gripped the sword again—wiggled, yanked hard, breaking a piece of the shelf in the process.It flew toward the fish's corpse and the door.
Thunder
The room lit up in the lightning flash.
"Seriously? Tsk. Looks like there's more than I thought," the man said, spotting another fish creature at the doorway.