Chapter 254: Leviathan (2)

Thalion watched the massive crystal nestled beneath the swaying seagrass with a hunger he did not bother to hide. Its sheer size rivaled that of the leviathan. The thick strands of seaweed had masked most of the crystal’s energy, but now that much of the vegetation had been destroyed in the chaos, whispers echoed in Thalion’s mind, coaxing him to descend and claim it for himself. He considered simply slipping it into his spatial ring and vanishing into the depths. Surely the fishfolk had thought of that already. Even if they lacked spatial rings themselves, they could have borrowed one from the undead.

Yet here they were, locked in battle with the leviathan. That alone was enough for Thalion to guess their true motive. The rage and precision in their attacks suggested vengeance rather than greed. The leviathan had likely killed one of their own. Now they fought not for power but for retribution. That suited Thalion perfectly. He intended to seize the crystal no matter what. If aiding them in slaying the leviathan gave him a better chance, he would do it. That did not mean he would spare them when the time came. They would surely turn on him too. No alliance here would last beyond the fall of the beast.

Thalion was not as heavily armored as the leviathan. Those enchanted harpoons could pierce his flesh with ease. It was best to remain hidden for now and wait until both sides were weakened. At the moment, neither seemed to be using their full strength. The leviathan had yet to unleash the coiled tentacles wrapped around its midsection, and the fishfolk had not escalated beyond the same freezing spear tactic. The method had merit, but it was not enough to truly endanger a creature of this magnitude.

Even as the battle raged below, Thalion’s thoughts wandered back to the crystal. Could they even mount it on Lucan’s formation? What would happen if he chose to absorb its power directly? He had fused Eagly with such artifacts, using them to amplify his spells and strengthen his body. The Tidecaller Serpent was exceptional at breaking down crystals and refining their energy. It was the smoothest form of body tempering he had ever experienced. At present, he had three shrunken crystals slowly dissolving within his belly.

That, however, was the limit his body could handle at one time. Any more would disrupt the process and risk damage. Shrinking this crystal and consuming it might push his strength to new heights. He had considered transferring the digestion skill from his damaged Eclipsari form back into the Tidecaller Serpent, but he was unsure how often such changes could be made before something broke. The risk of the skill being stuck in the wrong form for weeks was not worth a minor boost.

Even as a passive power source, it must be unimaginably potent. He needed to wait. Jumping into the fray too soon would be foolish. His only real concern was that the leviathan might wipe out enough of the fishfolk to force a retreat. Right now, it did not even look like they had inflicted any lasting damage.

They had adjusted their aim and now targeted either the tentacles wrapped tightly around the beast’s midsection or its eyes. The eyes were small and difficult to hit, and Thalion suspected there was some kind of shield protecting them. Sharks had evolved similar defenses, rolling their eyes back just before an attack. The leviathan seemed to possess an even more advanced mechanism. Its eyes looked reinforced, as though protected by a thick pane of transparent armor. Not that it mattered. The fishfolk lacked the accuracy to land a direct strike, and the leviathan moved swiftly, dodging most attempts with ease.

Thalion doubted the beast even needed its eyes. They were tiny in proportion to its massive body. Perhaps they were useful, but he suspected they were far from essential. The tentacles, on the other hand, were clearly functional. They absorbed most of the impacts, though even there, no real wounds had been inflicted. Their design appeared deliberate—soft flesh on the side that touched the leviathan’s body, while the outer layers were covered in a hardened, shell-like skin that deflected most attacks.

Thalion still could not quite understand the purpose of so many limbs. It seemed excessive, even for a creature of this scale. The battle continued with slow escalation. The leviathan moved with increasing speed, while the fishfolk pushed their enchantments further. Some attempted new tactics, like freezing the water around the leviathan’s flippers, but those efforts had little effect. After the initial wave of combat, the five warriors had linked themselves to their embattled comrade using threads of water, ready to pull him out of danger the moment the leviathan got too close.

It was an effective way to counter the pull every time the leviathan opened its enormous jaws. The creature grew increasingly irritated, unable to snatch the lone hunter it had relentlessly pursued. To Thalion, the sight felt almost comical, like a massive dog chasing a treat just out of reach. Even the few harpoons embedded in its tentacles, like crude acupuncture needles, barely registered as discomfort. The leviathan's vitality was immense. Its wounds closed within seconds, leaving no trace. Tiny punctures meant nothing to a beast of such scale.

The fishfolk must have realized they were gaining no ground. Their attacks were ineffective, doing little more than delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later, one of them would make a fatal mistake. The battle could turn in an instant. Thalion was surprised the lone hunter had survived this long. He himself would have collapsed from the stress of so many near-death encounters packed into such a short time. The hunter held on, darting through the water with remarkable focus and stamina.

Then the warriors changed tactics. Their weapons began to shimmer as enchantments awakened. Each time a spear pierced a tentacle, ice spread from the point of impact, freezing water and flesh together. It required constant effort to fuel the magic, but the results began to show. No longer did they pull the weapons free. Instead, they left them lodged in place, aiming to freeze the tentacles entirely. If successful, they could disable one of the limbs completely.

The leviathan had no intention of letting that happen. It stopped chasing its quarry and began to draw in water with terrifying force. The entire chamber reacted as if caught in a sudden tide. Hunters were dragged toward its mouth before they could recover their balance. Thalion, observing from his tunnel above, felt the pull as well. The suction did more than move water. It pulled in mana too, invisible streams of energy rushing toward the creature. Its aura flared, glowing with a renewed intensity.

Before Thalion’s eyes, wounds vanished. Tentacles smoothed out where they had been torn or frozen. But that was not the most alarming part. The absorbed mana seemed to empower the leviathan even further. Its aura grew heavier, more oppressive. Thalion narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t just regeneration. It was a self-enhancing ability. Even the Tidecaller Serpent could benefit from something like that. There was no reason the serpent would remain in its current form forever. Its growth had only begun, and Thalion had seen what it could become at higher stages.

The leviathan then did something unexpected. It closed its jaws, holding the power it had drawn in. It was waiting. Planning. This was no mindless beast. It dove once more toward the lone hunter, but the motion was a feint. At the last moment, it switched direction, lunging for a fishfolk warrior near the back. She held one of the ropes that had helped keep the hunter out of reach. She realized the trick too late and tried to flee. Her speed alone would not have saved her.

But the hunter she supported acted first. He grabbed the rope, poured energy into it to keep the spell stable, and yanked it while swimming sideways to change the angle. The leviathan snapped its jaws shut once again, catching nothing but swirling currents. This time, it did not hide its frustration. It let out a roar that shook the chamber. Even Thalion, high above and safely hidden, felt the sound ripple through his body. His vision blurred for a second, his balance shifting as if the water itself had been tilted.

He wondered whether it was raw emotion or a calculated attack. On Earth, sperm whales had used sound to disorient and kill giant squid. Perhaps this was similar. The vibrations were not focused enough to kill outright, but they were still dangerous. Thalion’s regeneration repaired the damage quickly. It must be worse at close range. The fishfolk must have known to expect it. As the vibrations rolled out, protective barriers bloomed around them. They were different from their earlier shields, more suited to sound than force. Whatever they were, they worked.

The moment the roar faded, the fishfolk resumed their assault. They focused their efforts on freezing the embedded spears again. If they could shatter even one tentacle, they would gain an opening. The leviathan, however, had tired of pursuit. It pivoted once more and opted for a ranged attack. Thalion barely sensed the energy gathering around the beast before it released it.

A focused jetstream of water blasted forward, intense and devastating. It resembled a perfected version of Aqualance, but far more powerful. He would need to copy that spell. The leviathan kept its mouth open, turning its head slowly to sweep the beam across the chamber. The hunters, expecting another roar or pulse, were caught off guard. They were in no position to dodge.

The sound of impact echoed through the tunnels, a crashing boom that made the stone itself vibrate. The jet slammed into one of the ancient, indestructible walls, sending a deep tremor through the surrounding rock. The chamber darkened for a moment, as if the sea itself had inhaled in awe.

Thalion narrowed his eyes, uncertain at first, but it almost looked as if the water around the jetstream had started to boil under the sheer pressure of the attack. The power was immense, and yet the leviathan still failed to land a single hit. The fishfolk moved with extraordinary reflexes, their bodies twisting through the water with precision born from countless battles. Their coordination was flawless, each motion part of a practiced rhythm. They fought not like individuals, but like limbs of a single entity, honed by survival and bound by vengeance.

It was vengeance that lit their eyes, not ambition. Thalion could see it clearly now. Their hatred burned hotter than any spell. Whatever the leviathan had done, it had gone beyond a mere hunt. It had made the battle personal. From the grim set of their jaws to the raw fury etched into every movement, it was obvious the beast had taken someone from them. And now they wanted blood.

As the fight pressed on, the leviathan launched another jet of high-pressure water toward a female warrior who seemed to struggle with her movement. Thalion noticed it instantly. One of her legs lagged behind, barely kicking. Perhaps she had gotten too close to the previous blast and was injured. The leviathan, predatory instinct at full force, homed in on her weakness.

Two watery threads descended from above, lifelines cast in desperation. Just before the leviathan's maw could close around her, the female activated a burst of magic that sent her rocketing forward. But it wasn’t enough. She had only two threads attached to her, and that made her path predictable. The hunter before her had been anchored by many lines, pulled in unpredictable directions. But she had none of that protection.

The leviathan adjusted its position mid-strike, with terrifying speed and precision. Its gaping mouth swallowed her whole. Thalion watched, horrified and fascinated, as she disappeared into the abyss of its jaws.

For a moment, he considered whether she might survive. If she could wedge her harpoon into the creature’s throat and anchor herself, maybe she could do real damage from within. Thalion had even thought about trying something similar. What if he allowed himself to be swallowed, then released a tsunami breaker from inside the leviathan’s body? It might be powerful enough to rupture the beast from within.

That fantasy shattered the moment the leviathan inhaled again. There was no slow digestion. The beast made a deep, guttural sucking motion, and from its gill slits, a stream of thick green blood surged into the water. It was instant. Whatever internal mechanism it possessed had obliterated the warrior in seconds. Thalion felt a chill ripple through his spine. Good that he hadn't tried it out.

It reminded him of the arapaima, a massive freshwater predator from the Amazon that swallowed prey whole. But the leviathan was on an entirely different level. Its jagged teeth were only one of many horrors it wielded. It did not need them to kill the tiny prey.

He turned his gaze back to the remaining fishfolk. Their strength had been formidable, but now despair clung to them like a shadow. He saw their formation falter. The spark of resistance began to flicker. Hope, once a blade in their hands, was now a weight dragging them down.

Thalion clenched his jaw. It was time to act.

He could not let them retreat. If they escaped now, he could forget about snatching the enormous crystal. He also wanted to witness more of the leviathan's abilities. To fight a beast like the levithan without knowing all the skill, was more than just a bit dangerous. Even a lazy wave with its tail would be enough to kill him. The massive crystal still glimmered in the depths, a promise of untapped power waiting to be claimed and Thalion had trouble to rain in his greed.

With a final breath, Thalion pushed himself forward, drifting silently toward the edge of the tunnel. The darkness of the chamber welcomed him, and the battle raged on below, wild and unpredictable. His moment was coming. He could feel it.