Part I: The Only Path
High above the water, Headon watched the boy running toward his death with a detached, cold curiosity.
There is only one way to survive this, the Guardian thought, his grin hidden in the shadows. Just one.
The White Steel Eel was faster than any human in the water. To run from it was to die tired. To fight it was to be crushed. The boy had a needle, the legendary Black March, but a needle was useless against steel scales that could deflect cannon fire.
You must not run, boy.
Headon's internal monologue was a cruel tutorial the boy would never hear.
The eel is hungry. To it, you are not an enemy; you are food. If you do not thrash, if you do not fight, it will not crush you. It will swallow you whole.
The solution was madness. To pass the test, the boy had to let himself be eaten. He had to slide down the gullet of the beast, into the soft, defenseless wetness of its throat, and strike the tongue from the inside. It was a strategy that required the suppression of every survival instinct a living creature possessed.
I did not tell you this, Headon mused, because no sane human would walk into a monster's mouth willingly. Only someone with a few screws loose... or someone with nothing left to lose.
Part II: Into the Abyss
"HEY! STUPID!"
Evan Edrok screamed from the cliffs, his voice cracking with panic. "RUN! What are you doing?! Run away!!"
Down in the cage, Baam didn't turn. He was splashing through the water, not away from the monster, but directly at it.
"Is he crazy?!" Evan grabbed his head. "He's paralyzed by fear! He can't move properly! Lady Yuri, I have to go down there! I have to save him!"
"No," Yuri said. Her voice was quiet, but it stopped Evan in his tracks. She was leaning forward, her ruby eyes wide, fixated on the small figure in the water. "Look."
Baam wasn't stumbling. He wasn't freezing up. He was charging with a terrifying, singular focus.
The White Steel Eel roared, a sound that vibrated the water into a frenzy. It opened its jaws—a cavern of serrated teeth and darkness—and lunged.
Baam didn't dodge.
Darkness swallowed him.
"BAAM!" Evan shrieked.
Part III: The Fear of Loss
For a moment, there was only silence and the churning of black water.
Headon tapped his staff, his eyes narrowing. He knew? No... impossible. He couldn't have known the strategy.
Then, a convulsion shook the massive body of the Eel.
The monster shrieked—a high-pitched, gurgling scream of agony. Its massive body thrashed, whipping the water into a tidal wave. It gagged, its mouth flying open in a spasm of pain.
From the depths of the beast's throat, a small figure emerged.
Baam slid out of the mouth, covered in slime, the Black March gripped tightly in his hand. He hadn't run. He hadn't hidden. He had faced the abyss and cut his way out.
It isn't courage, Headon realized, a chill running down his spine. And it isn't determination.
Most men fear death. They fear pain. But looking at the boy's eyes—empty of triumph, filled only with a desperate, starving need—Headon understood.
The fear of losing that girl... it is swallowing up all other fears.
The boy was not brave. He was simply terrified of a world without her more than he was terrified of the monster.
Part IV: The Unbreakable
The Eel, stunned and writhing in pain, sank beneath the surface. The path was clear.
Baam gasped for air, his lungs burning, and turned his gaze upward. The Black Sphere—the "Ball"—hung suspended in the air above the water. The target.
"Pop the ball," Baam whispered.
He leaped.
With the Black March leading the way, he flew through the air. The legendary weapon hummed, tasting the air, ready to pierce. It was an A-rank ignition weapon, capable of piercing steel, rock, and bone. A simple rubber ball should have been nothing.
CLANG!
The sound was wrong. It wasn't a pop. It was the sound of metal striking an impenetrable wall.
Baam hung in the air for a second, shock etched onto his face. The tip of the Black March was pressed against the surface of the ball. The ball dented slightly, rippling like dark water, but it did not break. It did not pop.
He fell back into the water with a splash.
"WHAT?!"
High above, Yuri grabbed the edge of the cliff, her knuckles turning white. "It didn't pop?! Hey! HEADON!"
She whirled on the Guardian, her aura flaring up in a terrifying burst of red anger. "What is with that ball?! That is the Black March! It pierced a steel eel, but it can't pop a ball?!"
Headon stood calmly, leaning on his staff. He looked at the scene below—the desperate boy floating in the water, staring at the impossible sphere.
"Who knows?" Headon said, his voice dripping with feigned ignorance. "I guess... it's just a very well-made ball."
The test was rigged from the start. The monster was a distraction; the real trap was the target itself. With the Eel recovering from the stun and the legendary weapon failing to scratch the objective, Baam is trapped in the cage with a waking beast. But the weapon hasn't spoken yet—and the Black March is known to be picky about her men.
***
"If you enjoy the story, please add to library and support with power stones!"
Give me your support guys, and my other novel as well.
The more you support me, the more I will feel motivated to write.