Chapter 4
Burden
"Tsk… these things are utterly repulsive," the man spat, and in his voice there was a strange edge: not just disgust, but a cold focus, like someone aligning every muscle before a decisive movement.
Suddenly, he spun. It wasn't a graceful or measured turn, but an explosion. His heels scraped against the wooden floor, his shoulders twisted as if his spine were about to snap, and all his torso channeled the force into a single axis. The air whistled around his movement, sliced by the violence of the twist.
That turn culminated in a throw. The boy's body was hurled out of his hands with a sudden jolt, as if catapulted without warning. For a fraction of a second, he hung suspended in the air, helpless: arms flung wide, legs bent at odd angles, his hair whipping as though trying to keep pace with the flight.
The bed caught him without mercy. He crashed onto the wrinkled sheets on his back, bouncing once like a doll tossed against an overly soft mattress. The dull thud of his body against the fabric echoed through the room, joined by a muffled groan that was immediately drowned out by the roar that came after.
The air split with a crack. It wasn't wood or bone—it was the floor itself caving under brutal weight. The creature surged forward, and the charge was so violent the very atmosphere seemed to hold its breath for an instant before shattering.
The man lowered his center of gravity with a slight bend in his knees. His heels dug into the wood, which groaned in protest, and his torso leaned just slightly forward. His left hand still hovered in the posture of the boy's throw, frozen midair. His right, however, was already reaching instinctively for the hilt of his sword. His fingers clenched around it just as the beast's shadow lunged at him.
The first clash was not what he expected. The blade left its sheath with a hiss, sweeping in a clean, horizontal arc—fast, sharp enough to split a beam in two. Steel sliced through the air, leaving behind a vibrating hum.
But the creature tucked itself mid-flight. Its body contracted like a living spring, bones and muscles folding inward with an agility impossible for something so massive. The strike passed mere inches away, grazing rough skin without drawing blood.
Then, with equal violence, the monster stretched out again. The floor trembled as its hind legs struck like spears, punching holes through the boards to absorb the impact. Splintered wood burst into fragments, and the echo of the blow rattled the walls.
The man's flank was left exposed, his sword still swinging leftward. Too open. Too late.
A harsh hiss tore the air: the monster's claws, extending toward him like butcher's knives. They weren't aimed at just his left eye, but the entire half of his face. Five points gleamed briefly under the faint light, ready to pierce flesh and bone.
The man knew in a heartbeat. His pupil dilated, his facial muscles tensed as if trying to block the blow on their own. He had tried to cover himself, but the blade wasn't in position. The edge came straight at him, and the world shrank to those few inches between his head and death.
Then, something strange happened.It wasn't steel clashing or bone snapping. It was a wet hiss, a faint sound almost unfit for such violence: water.
Two thin, flexible streams burst from his mouth, vibrating like taut whips. They coiled around the claw that sought to tear him apart, redirecting its path at the last instant. The impact was strong enough to force the monster to adjust its angle, but not enough to break through that liquid defense.
The outcome was brutal regardless. The deflection altered the trajectory of the blades, which raked across his head as they passed. Blood spilled in three uneven lines across his face and splattered onto the floor behind him. His head jerked right with the blow, revealing a red void where his ear should have been.
The streams of water were still there, taut like cables vibrating under the strain of the attack. They weren't mere splashes: they held firm, resisting, with just enough force to hold the line between life and death.
The man swallowed saliva mixed with iron, felt the warmth of blood running down his neck… and still tightened his grip on the sword's hilt. The monster had been left open in that instant of deflection.
With the creature off balance from the diversion, the man didn't wait.His wrist twisted with precision, launching another horizontal slash, this time aimed at the torso, intent on cutting it in two. Steel flashed as it moved, a silver streak promising to split flesh and bone.
But the monster wasn't an easy prey. Its right arm shot up like a wall, seeking to intercept the blade in a violent sweep. The edge skimmed close, just barely redirected. The man ducked, his body folding as if liquefying, lowering himself to avoid the counterstrike without halting his attack.
For a moment, it seemed he might succeed—that the slash would land before the creature could react.
Then, something unfolded.A wet, snapping sound echoed through the room: two additional limbs burst from the monster's thighs, hidden until now, like armored plates come alive. Shorter, but thick and sturdy, built for resistance.
One of those extra limbs intercepted the sword's path. The impact rang like metal striking rock. Steel shuddered from tip to hilt, and the man's arm trembled with the reverberation. For an instant, the blade seemed wedged in a living wall.
"So hard…" he thought, feeling how the force of the strike hadn't opened anything—only awakened impossible resistance.
Meanwhile, the water whips flowing from his mouth began coiling together. No longer two simple strands, they twisted into a spiraling drill, a liquid auger vibrating with restrained fury. He was ready to unleash it on the monster…
But when he looked up, the enemy was no longer in front of him.
A sharp crack forced him to raise his eyes.The monster wasn't on the floor anymore—it clung to the ceiling with its claws, like a giant spider. Its body was hunched, all six limbs taut, muscles vibrating beneath rough skin. From there it stared at him, inverted, its eyes fixed with unsettling stillness—the false calm of a predator about to strike.
The man clenched his jaw. He felt hot blood sliding down his cheek and neck, but he didn't look away. Time stretched into unbearable seconds.
Then the leap came.No warning, no roar—just a dry, brutal release, like a giant spring unleashed. The ceiling split beneath the launch, splinters raining in every direction. The creature shot downward in a straight line, all its weight concentrated in its spear-like legs.
Instinct screamed before his mind could.Move!
The man hurled himself back at the last instant. His right foot slammed into the floor, his body arching as he leapt backward in desperation.
The beast's impact with the ground was deafening. It broke through the floor. The wood gaped open like a shattered mouth, the surface caved several inches deep, and vibrations whipped through the entire room. Liquids, nails, and chunks of planks exploded outward, filling the air with debris.
The destruction didn't consume the entire room, but half of it was gone. The space left to move was minimal.
The man barely landed, his chest still heaving from the recoil.He knew he hadn't gained time—he had only survived the first leap.
The dust hadn't even settled when he reacted.He couldn't waste a second—the boy was still on the bed, exposed.
He spun left, body still under the recoil's strain, and rushed in a few quick strides. The mattress groaned as he shoved his left arm beneath the youth. The fabric tore with a rough sound, the wooden frame giving way under the pressure. His fingers pierced through the bottom and emerged on the other side.
With one pull, he lifted him.The boy's body rose sharply, limp, as weightless as a sack of grain. He didn't wake, only a faint gasp escaped his throat as the shift pressed his chest.
The man swung him over his shoulder in a swift motion, securing his legs with his right arm to lock the burden in place. The weight unbalanced him, but he couldn't afford to care.
The floor shook again—a sign the creature was moving.He didn't wait.
He lunged forward, crossing the room in long, heavy strides, each accompanied by the creak of boards straining under two bodies. With every step, he dodged fresh fractures in the floor: a short hop left, another right, air cutting against his face, the beast's rumble echoing in the hole.
The door was close.He jumped, twisting midair to keep the boy from hitting the frame. The sword still pointed backward, ready to guard against a strike as he cleared the exit.
He landed in the hallway.His eyes swept the space: clear to the left. Before losing momentum, his right foot pressed against a thin sheet of water blooming from the floor like a liquid mirror. He slid across it, twisting immediately to the right, adjusting without losing speed.
Behind him, a roar forced him to glance back into the room.
The creature was there again.Dangling from the hallway ceiling, like a nightmare refusing to let go of its prey.
The crack came before the leap.The monster launched from the ceiling again, shredding the wood with such violence the roof finally gave way, collapsing and burying the room in debris. The air thickened, saturated with fragments that gleamed briefly as the light from shattered lamps reflected off falling wreckage.
The man was already running, the boy swaying on his shoulder with every step. The second stride betrayed him—the entire ship tilted slightly backward. The floor caught him midair, right as he lifted his foot, striking it.
The blow, though minor, diverted his momentum just enough to push him back instead of forward. He lost rhythm, left suspended mid-step—right in the doorway's frame.
Too exposed.
A muffled roar engulfed him.The monster's claws sank into the wooden and iron frame like pincers. With a single pull, it ripped the whole structure free. The sound was wrenching: nails snapping, metal twisting, wood splintering. The hallway shook as if the ship had taken a cannon shot.
In seconds, the only escape route was blocked. The man and the boy were trapped between the monster's arms before and behind them. To the left, the beast; to the right, a wall—and now another wall pressing over it.
The frame, torn out whole, still quivered in the creature's claws, splinters falling in slow motion between them. The smell of dust and rust filled the air.
The man understood instantly: there was no way out.And he hadn't even touched the ground yet.