Riku returned to the village at dawn, exhausted but determined. The sea had granted him a reprieve, but he knew better than to believe the Umibōzu would remain distant for long. He needed answers—and if the legends were true, those answers would not be found on the surface.
At the shrine, the old fisherman awaited him, as if expecting his return. "You spoke to it," the man said quietly, eyes narrowing. "Few live after that. Few even hear its voice."
Riku nodded, recalling the chilling thought that had brushed his mind: "Why do you trespass?" He shivered. "It's… more than a creature. It's intelligent. Old. It knows who I am, what I'm doing. And it waits."
The fisherman's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then listen carefully. There is a legend—older than any of the scrolls in that shrine. Long before men named it, the Umibōzu was a guardian, bound to the balance of sea and man. It punishes greed, recklessness, and those who disrespect the ocean's depths. To survive, you must understand it, or it will take everything you care for."
Riku leaned forward. "How do I… understand it?"
The old man handed him a tattered map, its edges frayed and stained with salt. "There are places beneath the waves, hidden trenches, ruins of old villages swallowed by the sea. There lies the history of the Umibōzu—rituals, offerings, warnings. Only by uncovering them can you hope to appease it… or at least survive its wrath."
Night fell quickly, and Riku prepared his boat once more. The villagers' lanterns flickered behind him, their glow swallowed by the mist. The sea ahead was dark, vast, and uncharted, but his resolve had hardened. Fear was a tool now, a reminder that he must tread carefully.
Hours later, beneath a starless sky, he found the first of the sunken ruins. Massive stones jutted from the water like the spines of some ancient leviathan, barnacles clinging to carvings of humanoid figures with bald heads and hollow eyes. He traced the patterns with his fingers, a chill running through him. The symbols were warnings… or perhaps instructions.
Suddenly, the water rippled violently. A shadow loomed beneath the surface, larger than before. The Umibōzu had returned, its presence a tidal force that bent the waves toward him.
Riku steadied his breath. He knew now that confrontation was inevitable. But unlike before, he had knowledge—clues from the past, whispers of the ocean's secrets, and the understanding that fear alone would not save him.
The eyes of the Black Tide met his, vast and unblinking. Riku whispered, steadying his voice against the roar of the sea: "I will learn your story. I will honor it. I will survive."
And in the dark waters, the Umibōzu seemed to consider him. The ocean trembled beneath their shared understanding: this was not merely a fight for life, but a journey into the depths of history, folklore, and the very soul of the sea.
The first real test of courage had begun.