Chapter 5
Burden
"Tsk… these things are utterly repulsive," the man said, his tone a mix of disgust and focus.
In a sudden movement, he spun to his right. The turn wasn't graceful—it was explosive, loaded with raw force—and at the end of the twist, he hurled Eilor away. The young man shot toward the bed, spinning in the air like a limp rag doll, until he landed on his back atop the wrinkled sheets.
At the same time Eilor flew, the floor groaned beneath a crushing weight. The creature lunged forward with such force that the very air seemed to compress before it burst apart.
The man bent his knees slightly, lowering his center of gravity. His right hand was already reaching for the sword's grip, while his left remained suspended in the air, still in the position of the throw.
He missed the first moment of contact. The blade traced a quick horizontal slash, fast enough to cut through wood and bone… but the monster curled midair, compressing itself like a living spring, then stretched out again with the same violence.
Cracks split the air. Its hind legs pierced the floor like spears, arched to absorb the recoil, dodging the slash by barely a few centimeters.
The man was left with his flank exposed. A pair of claws, each as long as a butcher's cleaver, shot straight not just for his left eye, but for the entire left side of his face.
His pupils dilated. The muscles in his face tightened to their limit, bracing for an impact he might not be able to evade.
Just centimeters before contact, something touched the claw. It wasn't steel, nor bone—it was liquid. Water. A pair of thin, flexible whips coiled around the limb, diverting its path.
Blood splattered the floor behind the man. His head tilted to the right, revealing three cuts of varying depth and a blot of red where his ear should have been.
In his mouth, two thin streams of water split in opposite directions, taut and trembling like cables under strain—they were the ones that had intercepted the attack.
With the creature exposed, the man tightened his grip on the sword and launched another horizontal slash. But the monster didn't stay passive; its right arm swept in, aiming to cleave him apart at the same time.
For a heartbeat, the man's body seemed to liquefy, shrinking downward to evade the strike without halting his own attack.
But the beast had more than four limbs. It had six. The extra pair was tucked tight against its thighs, like plates of living armor. One of those hidden arms unfolded, blocking the slash with a dry sound, as if the blade had struck stone.
So hard… the man thought, as the water from his mouth shifted, the two whips intertwining in a spiral, spinning like a liquid drill ready to bore through.
He looked up, ready to launch the attack… but the creature was no longer in front of him.
It was on the ceiling.
It clung there with its claws, body coiled like a predator on the verge of pouncing. The tension in its muscles was visible even beneath its rough skin.
The leap was immediate—a sharp burst, like a giant spring snapping free—and the monster dove straight down.
The man didn't have to think. His instincts screamed before his mind did: Back!
He jumped backward just as the creature descended with its legs extended like spears. The impact was deafening. The floor didn't just crack—it sank and warped under the blow, sending a vibration that shook the entire room.
Still, the destroyed area didn't cover the entire space. There was room to move—barely.
The man reacted instantly. He darted left, straight to the bed where he'd left Eilor. His left arm slid under the boy's body, pressing the mattress down hard until his hand could break through the other side.
He yanked Eilor up in a single motion, hoisting him like a sack of grain, and ran with him slung over his shoulder.
The floor trembled beneath his feet, but he didn't slow. One leap to the left, another to the right, dodging the freshly opened hole in the floor.
In seconds, he was near the exit. He spun midair in a half-turn jump, crossing the doorway into the corridor with his sword still in hand.
Looking left, he saw the hallway was clear. Before losing momentum, he slid his right foot over a thin layer of water that seemed to flow from the floor, using it to pivot, now facing the opposite end of the hall, while shielding Eilor from hitting the doorframe.
A crash made him glance back.
The creature was back, now clinging to the ceiling, hanging like a living nightmare.
The creak came before the next leap: it launched toward the doorway, tearing the ceiling apart in the process. Wood splinters, dust, and nails rained down the hall.
The man was already running, but by his second step, the ship's floor shifted with brutal force. The jolt hit his foot midair, throwing off his momentum by just a hair… but that hair was enough to leave him hanging in the doorway's frame.
And that's when it caught him.
The monster's claws dug into the frame, ripping it out entirely, sealing any escape.
Blood sprayed.
The shattered frame still vibrated in the monster's claws, splinters of wood and twisted metal falling in slow motion between them.
The man looked at it for only an instant—long enough to know the escape route was gone.
He still hadn't touched the ground.
Eilor weighed heavily on his shoulder, an awkward burden, but he didn't let go. He tightened his grip on the sword, twisted his wrist, and aligned the blade, positioning it in the narrow gap between him and the creature.
The strike wasn't calculated—it was more reflex than plan, a desperate attempt.
With his back to the hallway wall, he drove the weapon forward as best he could, straight and firm, aiming at the head about to ram into him.
The blade struck home. It sank into the skin. Cut through skin, muscle, and something that crunched like hollow bone, pushing deeper until no steel was left visible.
The crossguard slammed into flesh, but the creature didn't stop.
Amid the groan of the torn frame-wall, the man's feet briefly touched the floor.
It wasn't much help. The charge had lost some strength from tearing the frame free, but the beast still had too much force. It kept driving forward, and the man could barely keep his balance—Eilor's weight throwing him further off.
Shit…
Before he could even think what to do, the creature used its two extra limbs to push harder. The man's shoulder took the full hit, the sword's hilt jamming into the lower part of his abdomen.
Eilor, dangling over his shoulder, had his head resting against the man's back, oblivious to the chaos.
But just before the full collision, the man made a short hop to keep the hilt from striking anything vital. Even with Eilor on him, he still thought—if he didn't hit something back, he'd die.
Crack—
But there was no time to act—he was slammed into the corridor wall. Even from two and a half meters away, the impact was deafening.
It blended into the noise of something else breaking—a window shattering.
Before inertia could carry him fully into the wall, a pair of legs struck him first, adding to the force that smashed him into it.
By reflex, he grabbed the legs, which seemed to be sliding somewhere.
The glass gave way, exploding outward in a cloud of sharp fragments. Drops of blood mixed in, and a body burst through the hole where the pane had been—only to halt abruptly, left hanging upside down.
Eilor opened his eyes.
Water… cold… red… fish.The words weren't thought—they were stamped into his mind by his senses, a list of what surrounded him before he even understood it.
First: a massive body of water, heaving violently. Waves crashing against a metal wall, making it shudder.
Second: a cold that didn't just bite at the skin, but sank deep into the bones. Icy drops struck his face and ran down his neck.
Third: red lines floating and breaking his vision, swaying with the water's motion.
Fourth: fish. Dozens—maybe hundreds. Some leapt among the waves, others climbed the metal wall like parasites seeking refuge.
"Fish…?" he whispered. The inner echo of his own voice snapped him back to reality. "Fish!"
He tried to move and found half his body hanging outside the ship, trapped in the broken frame of a window. He twisted enough to feel the pressure of something firm wrapped around his legs.
A thunderclap roared above his head, followed by lightning that lit the night for an instant. In that blink, he saw the silhouette of a colossal bridge floating near the clouds.
He also saw the cuts in the ship's metal wall. They weren't simple dents—they were deep fissures, some wide enough for fish to pour in by the swarm.
"The ship… it's not moving?" he muttered, but the storm's roar swallowed his words, in the midst of the heavy rain.
.