Chapter 7
Körper Picke
The redhead still held his short sword in hand.
Panting.
His shoulders rising and falling like broken bellows.
The cold water that kept pouring in, and the storm seeping through the breach, chilled him to the bone.
The heat of the steam from the machines, mixed with the stench of burnt oil and rusted metal, tore at his lungs with every breath.
Blood ran down his forehead and burned his eyes; he saw everything only halfway: one side dark, the other drowned in red.
The rotten bruise on his left flank bent him to one side, forcing him to lean on the sword as if it were a cane.
For a second he closed his eyes.
A second to breathe.
A second to remember why he was still alive.
Then, the darkness opened.
There was no more steam, no blood, no metallic thunder of the ship.
Before him stretched a golden field.
Not wheat, not sand… but tall flowers, bathed in a sun that made everything glow as if the whole world were liquid gold.
There, a blonde-haired girl ran, her laughter cutting through the wind with a purity that ached in the chest.
The breeze tossed her white dress as she leapt between the flowers, disappearing and reappearing, like a dancing ray of light.
He —the red-haired man— stood in the middle of that field.
He watched without moving, feeling the warmth of the sun embrace him after so much cold.
Suddenly, another boy appeared from behind him, running to catch up to the blonde.
His face was pure joy, as if playing were the only thing that mattered.
And behind them, a young couple walked at a calm pace, with the serenity of those unafraid of the future.
Their soft laughter blended with the children's, as if they were all one single echo.
The redhead felt a pull in his chest.
As if he had seen all this before, yet… it slipped away like water through his fingers.
Then, on the left side of his vision, a silhouette emerged.
A woman with golden hair, shining like sunlight on water.
She turned slowly, her face lit by that golden glow.
Her lips parted, and her voice was clear, firm, like an echo resounding from the depths of his being:
—Picke Körper.
The woman's hand reached toward him, warm, open, waiting.
The redhead felt his heart burst with that name.
His name.
In that instant, his eyes snapped open.
The golden vision vanished like a blink.
The field went dark, the laughter disappeared, and the warmth turned once more into cold, into steam, into blood.
The redhead gripped his sword hilt with renewed fury.
—…Yes. —he muttered, in a voice half-sigh, half-roar—. That's me.
The golden field was gone.
Now, only the enemy remained before him.
He drew in breath.
Clenched his teeth.
And released it slowly between them, a hiss tearing the air apart.
Almost at once, a reddish aura began to emanate from his body.
Not clean, not elegant: uniform and chaotic, like fire burning inside a bottle about to burst.
The steam warped around him, as if rejecting him, as if that energy were searching for space to expand.
The reddish-brown of his eyes shifted.
First a faint flicker… until they became two blazing yellow orbs, like suns in the gloom.
He did not move from his spot.
But under his feet, the water began to tremble.
It wasn't the tide pushing in, nor the dripping storm.
The source was him.
Every droplet vibrated as if obeying his pulse, and from his boots concentric ripples spread violently, crashing against the metallic walls of the room.
A memory surfaced with that tremor.
Not of the golden field.
Not of the blonde woman.
Another.
The damp wood of a pier under his boots.
The scent of salt and tar.
And before him, a familiar face: an older man, broad-shouldered, with a graying beard and a proud smile.
He greeted him with a slap on the shoulder, as if he hadn't seen him in ages.
—Picke Körper! —his voice thundered like a friendly cannon—. So it's you, you damned bastard!
The redhead had smiled, tired but genuine.
He climbed aboard the vessel while the man walked firmly at his side.
—Do you know why I chose this ship? —he said, gesturing at the gleaming hull and freshly painted rails—. Because it looked like a damn floating palace. All luxury, all shine… and look at it now. —He burst into a rough laugh—. Barely rebuilt, riveted like a warship.
Körper had followed his gaze, his eyes reflecting pride and irony both.
The man then praised him, in a lower voice, almost solemn:
—Glad to see you made it. You've improved with aura… to second grade. Impressive. —he made a peace sign with his fingers.
The redhead, in that memory, had bowed his head slightly in thanks.
—Thank you.
—Tell me —he then asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity—, how does it feel to be a second-grade water mage and, a practitioner of the 'North Star' style, a second-grade aura user?
Körper had smirked, that crooked smile always halfway between mockery and truth.
—Incredible. —he answered—. Having both… I feel… almost indestructible.
Their laughter had mingled with the murmur of the port and the pounding waves.
Back to the present, to steam and blood.
His aura burned chaotically, and the water beneath his feet no longer just trembled: it obeyed.
The ripples swelled, awaiting his command.
The monster stared at him, convulsing, and for the first time, it recoiled.
No… crouched low on its six limbs.
Körper tightened his grip on the sword with both hands.
His yellow eyes flashed like lightning.
He remembered his own voice on that pier, the laughter, the lighthearted taunt: Having both makes me almost indestructible.
Then, it had been just a joke.
But now…
—I said it as a joke… but now… —he exhaled through his nose, as if pain turned into grim satisfaction.
The reddish aura surged with a stronger beat, shaking the metallic walls.
The ripples in the water grew violent.
—By the grace of the goddess… and the courage her grace grants. —his voice thundered deep, firmer than ever—. Who would've thought it would be so literal?
The air vibrated.
The monster screeched, its deformed tongue thrashing.
Körper stepped forward, and with that single move, the water burst into rings and the air split with a roar.
The true battle… had only just begun.
The air quaked.
The whole chamber seemed to choke.
They advanced.
They did not run, they did not leap: they charged like unleashed beasts.
Every step splashed water —more from the monster than the man.
But something stirred in the water.
It twisted, whirling into small eddies along the monster's apparent path.
When Körper's step landed near the eddies, they contracted —and from them shot stakes of water like arrows.
The monster reacted, smashing several with its two extra limbs and one arm.
But one struck true.
It didn't wound, but it slowed, tripped, and staggered it for a moment.
A moment not wasted.
The sword cut the air with a dry hiss and plunged into the monster's torso.
The blade didn't stop: it pierced flesh, bone—
Tearing a wide wound.
Yet Körper couldn't savor the strike, for the monster's tail lashed him.
The creature shrieked, twisting, sealing the hole in its body with its own mass.
And lunged again at Körper, who, though he intercepted the tail with his sword, couldn't avoid being hurled several meters back.
Then he saw it… the twisted tongue lashed, aiming to pierce his chest, but Körper caught it with his forearm.
The impact shredded his flesh, blood pouring down his arm… and still he didn't let go.
He growled through clenched teeth.
Raised the sword to shoulder height.
At the same time, with his left arm he gripped the monster as best he could, fingers digging into its flesh—
And then came another horrid crack from his forearm.
But once the creature was held and the sword poised—
He thrust swiftly, stabbing what seemed to be a neck.
Twisted the blade inside the wound, ripping out chunks of flesh by force.
The monster broke free in a spasm, shredding Körper's abdomen, hurling him several meters, and something slammed into him.
But another spear of water pierced the monster's foot.
Both tumbled, rolling between pipes and gears.
Claws against flesh.
Blade against bone.
Körper braced for the strike, tried to dodge, but couldn't.
The bruise on his right flank burned worse.
As he staggered up, he saw his aura thinning, shrinking.
He tried to stand, but with the weakened aura his knee buckled.
So soon… he thought, panting.
His breath grew heavier.
Both were left gasping, drowned in steam and water.
The boilers screamed around them as if about to burst.
Körper could barely stand.
The sword weighed like lead in his trembling hand.
The aura around him flickered, torn by the blood pouring from his side.
The monster advanced, claws gouging the metal floor, that tongue-face whipping like a starving lash.
Körper clenched his teeth.
His arm wouldn't move, his body screamed to give in…
He closed his eyes for a moment.
In that moment the reddish aura vanished.
With it gone, Körper's limbs fell like rags and his body collapsed to one side.
Right then, the monster leapt.
But his left hand, the one in closest contact with the water… moved.
It opened as if clutching air.
The liquid on the floor rose faintly, forming small spikes of water.
As the monster came crashing down on him—
The spikes shot upward with a sharp, grating whistle.
Forming compressed water lances vibrating violently.
SHHHHH!
The lances pierced the monster's torso, drilling into flesh like giant needles.
The creature thrashed with a metallic shriek, its body tearing apart in bloody bursts.
But it didn't fall, it stayed impaled.
It leaned forward, pushing against the projectiles, advancing through them like a bull pierced by spears yet not knowing the word "death."
Körper swallowed hard, panting.
He raised his hand again.
The water spiraled, coiling into a tight vortex hurled at the tongue-face.
BOOOM!
The blast erupted into a cloud of boiling steam, the creature shrieked… but from the vapor burst a claw that seized him by the throat.
Körper barely had time to react.
It lifted him off the floor, the grip cracking his body, and slammed him into a metal wall.
The impact made him spit blood in torrents.
His vision dimmed.
His yellow eyes burned, but the rest of his body dimmed out.
With a thread of voice, he tried to conjure another current—
A water shield formed between him and the claws.
The monster tore through it anyway, ripping the liquid barrier apart as if it were smoke.
Körper couldn't scream, the sound choked in his throat.
He formed another lance, the last, and drove it point-blank into the monster's abdomen.
The water hissed, drilling through with a pressurized jet that blew chunks of flesh and scales apart.
The monster staggered back for an instant.
Enough for Körper to breathe again, his arm hanging dead at his side.
The water still obeyed his will… but each spell was weaker, slower.
It wasn't his magic abandoning him.
It was his body that could no longer hold it.
The monster circled him, panting, tongue-face dripping blood and saliva inches from his face.
Körper could barely lift his gaze.
The water beneath his boots quivered less and less.
And for the first time… the creature had him completely.