He chuckled under his breath—broken, full of disbelief. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

The spear had cleared the fog in a clean, straight line. He watched as the wound he’d been nice enough to give the thing folded in on itself—flesh knitting back together—and after not even two seconds, it looked completely brand new.

’Ungrateful.’

But he did notice some of its massive tentacles had gone limp, dragging through the water like dead weight. Lightning still crackled through its body, arcing between the slick flesh, jumping from limb to limb. And knowing his luck, this was probably the only chance he’d get to finish this.

But the sea, apparently, had other ideas.

A whirlpool yawned open in front of the beast, massive and hungry. His ship lurched forward. The wind picked up at his back, shoving them straight toward the tangle of twitching tentacles.

’I really want to evaporate this entire damn ocean.’

He moved. Dropped the sail, shoved the throttle forward, and grabbed the wheel, but the wheel fought back. He couldn’t turn the ship around. The current was too strong.

"Damn it."

He climbed up the mast, lightning crackling through his body, more violent this time, snapping and arcing like it was responding to his emotions. And currently, he was feeling murderous.

Not only had this thing woken him and the twins up, it had the audacity to not die when Shiro had clearly been generous enough to make it quick.

’Ungrateful. Truly ungrateful.’

Their eyes met.

A massive tentacle swung down from above, aimed to fold the ship in half with one blow.

He took a deep breath, unsheathed his sword, and swung. One slash. Fast. Clean. The tentacle split mid-air, and before it could crash onto the deck, he jumped and kicked the severed limb to the side.

He shot forward before that thing could make its next move—meeting the beast head-on.

It lunged its tentacles, diving and swinging toward him from every angle.

At the same time, the temperature dropped. What had once felt damp and heavy turned sharply cold, biting against his skin. White vapor spilled from his mouth with each breath.

"What?"

A tentacle came at him like a spear. He twisted mid-air. It grazed past him, close enough to snap him back to focus.

"Sever—Nocturne," he hissed through his teeth.

The blade sang. He cut through limb after limb, leaping from one severed stump to the next, closing the distance with every slash. Each one deep enough, clean enough, to make sure it would take the damn thing ages to regrow.

And just as he was about to land the finishing blow, the mist moved. Past him. Fast. Like something behind him was inhaling it.

’What the hell.’

His eyes followed it. The mist wasn’t drifting. It was being pulled, rushing past him toward his ship, fast, the same way he gathered dust when he drew his bow. And the amount being dragged was enormous.

He had a bad feeling about it.

So instead of striking the beast, he sent a massive projectile slash toward the whirlpool. The crescent tore through the water, disrupting the flow, splitting the current long enough to break its grip. He used the creature’s head as a platform, coiled his legs, and launched himself like a loaded spring back toward the ship.

The moment his feet touched the deck, he ran to the wheel. Grabbed it. Turned hard.

But something massive loomed in front of him.

A ship. Familiar. Too familiar. At its front, a carving of an expressionless woman.

He never thought he’d ever see it in person.

He watched as the mist was pulled together in front of him, gathering, compressing, condensing the same way soil gathered when he forged his arrows.

The fog thickened around the top of the carving, swirling at the woman’s crown. Standing on it was a bearded man, and a breath later, he released the arrow.

His eyes followed it. And as the arrow flew over the sea, the water beneath it began to freeze—a trail of white splitting the surface in a perfect line before it struck the beast head-on.

Frost exploded outward on impact, and slowly its body began to freeze. It started from the head where the arrow struck, creeping downward, spreading across its flesh, limb by limb, tentacle by tentacle, freezing everything connected to it.

The once furious sea went still. The terrifying water now frozen solid, and the beast it had protected looked like an unfinished ice sculpture—cracking, splitting, pieces falling away into the white.

Before it fully collapsed, he flung two soul fragments at it.

[Soul Fragments: 3/100]

But this time, the fragments rejected it. They came back, slamming into him like a refund he never asked for.

[Soul Fragments: 5/100]

"What."

’Did I just get rejected by a corpse?’

Before he could question what just happened, a long rope ladder dropped onto his ship.

He didn’t hesitate. Flung all five fragments at it again, grabbed the twins, and dismissed the knight.

And he was surrounded. Weapons pointing at him from every direction.

’Great. Love a warm welcome.’

One stepped forward. The kid was slightly older than Shiro—tall, lean, with a scar that ran across his lips like someone had tried to shut him up and failed. His hair was spiked up, making him look even taller than he already was.

But it was his eyes that interested Shiro. For someone as young as he was, they held nothing. No anger. No sadness. The eyes of someone who had never felt anything—or had felt too much and shut it all off.

He glanced down at Shiro. Their eyes met.

And before saying a single word, he drove his fist into Shiro’s gut, folding him in half. Then forcefully snatched the twins from his arms.

They cried—until the boy looked at them and muttered, "Shut up." Cold. Flat. Like noise was a personal offense. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

They went quiet. And Shiro could see it in their eyes as they stared at the boy. Not confusion. Fear.

In that instant, Shiro wanted to kill them all. Cut them into so many pieces it would take centuries to put them back together.

He looked up, blood on his teeth.

"You smell like a demigod."

That comment earned him another fist to the gut.

’Yeah. Walked into that one.’