Micheal's foot touched dry ground. In his daze, he looked around to behold two gargantuan walls of water that stretched into an unseen distance.

  A faint fear bloomed in his heart, born from the scale and strangeness of such a phenomenon.

  The boy turned his head slowly. The second mate was beside him, yelling something he couldn't quite understand. An incessant ringing filled his head, and it was rather difficult to piece together memories of how he'd arrived here.

  “Micheal! Can you hear me?”

  “...I think so,” Micheal grabbed his throbbing forehead.

  Second mate Odirov nodded and adjusted the unconscious prince who was strung over his shoulder. “Good. That means you can walk just fine.”

  That was when Micheal noticed the ridiculous amount of people around them. Some had walked a good distance ahead, while others were behind, hurrying to catch up. It was a strangely horrifying scene for the boy, as he had never seen that many people gathered in one place before.

  There had to be thousands and thousands!

  “It's a great departure,” A melodious voice explained, before gently taking the boy's hand.

  Micheal followed the slender arm to see a woman with graceful red hair. Due to the wall of water blocking the moonlight, he could barely make out her face.

  “Thank you, Adeline. He seems to be out of it, still.” Odirov sighed. He then scowled at the brat who clung to his clothes.

  “Can't you walk by yourself?”

  Maria shook her head defiantly. “What if the seawater comes crashing down?!”

  “You can always turn back and return to the island.” Odirov replied harshly.

  “Nay!”

  As they continued the seemingly endless journey, Micheal's memories slowly returned to him. He recalled the strange emptiness that had swallowed the Middle and Upper Rings. He remembered how he and Esau had fallen from that height.

  How in hell was he still alive?

  …

  The cold night wind carried a murmur. A figure watched the journey below with a deep frown.

  Odirov is with the kids and Adeline, so they should be fine… But, good God, what is this persistent feeling? Protect us, Hanuman.

  Odin gave the distant moon a glance, before descending to the pier in a gust of wind. There, a number of figures stood with steadfast hearts.

  “It's going to be a long walk to Thaloria.” He announced with a sigh.

  The captain of the Knuckleback, Bjorn Brimstone, said with a click of his tongue, “Might take entire night, eh?”

  “Possibly.” Odin nodded grimly. Ever since the calamity began, a sense of unease had tugged at his heart. He couldn't place a finger on it, but perhaps it had to do with the mysterious figure who had called herself the Witch of White.

  Odin suspected that the gaping emptiness that consumed their city wasn't the only threat they'd be facing tonight.

  “Will you be able to hold the sea for that long?” Another figure, a man with receding hair, asked.

  Odin glanced at the faces of everyone present. They all seemed to have the same question in their hearts.

  Cold air escaped from his mouth as he said, “You don't have to worry. I can do that much. Anyway, our focus should be on the bastards who committed such an atrocious act. My guess is that they're still on the island, or even worse, hidden in the crowd.”

  “First-mate Konan is currently searching the Lower Ring for the enemy.” A lady said.

  “Good. We cannot allow them to spur further panic.” Odin nudged his head in the direction of the departing people of Valkara. “Iago is leading the mass. I trust him to take charge. So, I need the rest of you to spread out and protect everyone. Please, lend me your strength.”

  The group bobbed their heads. These men and women were, in fact, Luminaries from various pirate ships, most particularly the Pillager. They were an experienced lot, so Odin was certain of their strength to hold the enemy if necessary.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  As for him, he was going to search for the source of unease that made his heart tremble so.

  He did not need to. Because a fierce wind blew across the horizon at that point.

  And then, a roar exploded from the depths of the distant sea.

  Odin slowly turned his head, his eyes widening with each passing heartbeat.

  You damn bastards!

  The island went still. The moon seemed to burn brighter, as though announcing the arrival of this abominable entity. The King of Serpents; The Father of Leviathans…

  “The Obinimi.” Bjorn’s lips trembled.

  “This is bad! We need to—”

  A crackle of lightning slithered across the pier as Odin vanished from his spot. His figure left afterimages as he crossed a boggling distance in a single bound. He had traveled beyond the point where the sea parted; beyond the border of the Archipelago, and above his head was a giant greatsword forged from lightning.

  The sword swayed, then descended with the force of a collapsing star.

  A gigantic creature broke the water surface to meet the attack head on.

  ..

  The result of the impact was a blinding light and thunderclap that shook the Tempest Sea. The surface of the sea boiled from the heat of multiple lightning bolts, before erupting in a display of scalding mist.

  A violent shockwave ravaged the air for leagues and leagues across, and when the light finally subsided, Odin remained hovering in the air. The skin on his arms broke and dispersed in the wind, now replaced with squirming blue lines.

  As for the Obinimi, its entire head was no more, having been utterly decimated in the attack. Mountainous blood poured into the seawater, tinting it dark red.

  “I'm in a really terrible mood, beast. So let's get this over with.” Odin sneered as a trident forged from seawater appeared in his hand.

  An unsettling hiss erupted from the depths of the serpent as its flesh squirmed and grew a head anew. The scales on its body extended, adding a layer of reinforcement to its face.

  In all past encounters, Odin had never truly harbored the intention of slaying the King of Serpents. However, with how terribly he had lost to the mysterious adversary tonight, he was seething with rage.

  The Obinimi as well, drawn by Miadigarisi’s gem, was in a frenzied and bloodlusted state. It had attained a length that could wrap around the island of Valkara twice. Its maw, large as it was, was akin to the gaping hole in the city.

  Tonight, one of them was going to fall.

  …

  City of Valkara, Lower Ring.

  The streets which had once been filled with life and purpose, now lay in ruin. The stacked shops had toppled, and cracks ran all the way from the stone steps to the port.

  Every now and then, large chunks of rock broke off and fell into the abysmal hole in the center of the island.

  Three men crossed the dilapidated road in silence, with one of them carrying a huge metal box. They turned their heads when a blinding light veiled the sky, then lurched from the subsequent shockwave.

  One of the men raised his head and laughed heartily.

  “Oh my, they seem to be having a lot of fun.”

  “Master Konan, this is no time to be amused!” One of the other two hurried to his feet.

  Konan chuckled softly. This person, who was the original owner of the Pillager, had oily black hair that fell down his shoulders. His eyes were similarly pitch-black, and his face seemed to be frozen in an eternal smile.

  He wore a classic pirate’s attire, which bore a strange level of tidiness.

  “The captain and Odin are out there. We have nothing to worry about.”

  “Still—” One of his men began to speak, but stopped short when a strange whistle tore through the air.

  A tiny object flew out from the darkness, before tearing through the man's skull with baffling precision. Blood splattered, and he fell to the ground, dead.

  Two more objects flew out in quick succession.

  The second man died immediately, and the metal box dropped with a loud bang.

  Konan was struck too, his brain residuals staining a nearby building. He wobbled and let out an inhumane gasp, before supporting himself against the wall.

  A rock? What strange accuracy…

  A single, bloody tear rolled down his face. With his hand, he felt the tiny hole in his head and laughed.

  “Don't you know? Sneak attacks aren't proper. Why don't you reveal yourself so we can do battle in a more fashionable manner.”

  When Konan removed his hand from the gash, the injury had vanished like it never happened to begin with. Losing his brain didn't seem to impede his thoughts or movements in any way.

  There was a moment of silence, when, finally, a voice spoke:

  “A Vessel, huh. This is going to be quite troublesome.”

  Konan’s lips curled at the edges as he witnessed the air fold and bend, tearing away darkness to reveal a young man seated atop a large, pristine crystal.

  The man had slick, short hair, with a rather handsome face and a scar running along his nape. His eyes darted around, languidly observing the men he had murdered.

  Konan’s smile widened. He asked, “Are you the enemy?”

  “I guess you can say that.” Amur sighed, his fingers deftly rolling around a few tiny rocks.

  “Ah, then permit me to engage you in battle. After all, I have been tasked with dealing the same hand forced upon the poor folks of this city.” Konan gave a polite bow.

  Amur watched the strange display in silence for a moment. His face finally broke from its usual tiredness, allowing a hint of amusement to sneak in. He chuckled and said, “Let me guess… you are the Gentleman Barbarian.”

  “That is what they call me, yes.”

  “That so…” Amur nodded gently. His arm lashed out abruptly, flinging the rocks with strange speed.

  The rocks whistled across the distance, instantly tearing apart a good deal of Konan’s body, who had been too slow to put up a defense. The man's arm was blown off, same for the center of his abdomen.

  However, the flesh squirmed and regrew with ease.

  Amur’s eyelids twitched slightly. Dealing with a Vessel’s regeneration capabilities was painfully annoying. He jumped off the crystal and threw both arms forward. A damning number of pebbles broke apart from the rubble on the street and rained upon the target.

  Konan didn't stand idle this time. His entire body plopped to the ground and snaked forward, quickly closing the gap and evading the barrage. He reverted to his usual form and swung a punch.

  Rather, a blade.

  Amur barely evaded the slash. His foot moved and he shuffled steadily around the Vessel. Now standing behind him, Amur thrust his arm upwards.

  A jagged rock formation rose from the ground, stabbing into Konan without mercy and raising him high into the air. His blood poured onto the reshaped street.

  “A Graced with the affinity of rock. I can tell that you have honed your techniques.” Konan’s body split in half and fell to the ground, before forming a whole once more.

  The Gentleman Barbarian glanced at the blood splattered all over the street and said with a smile, “However, you mustn't forget that you are dealing with a Vessel at the Luminary grade. Every flesh torn, every blood splattered, can be controlled.”

  “Wha—” Before Amur could realize his mistake, the puddle of blood suddenly burgeoned and exploded. The impact sent him flying backwards and into a wall.

  He groaned and opened his eyes immediately, but the Barbarian was already upon him. In the man's hands was a giant iron hammer that seemed to have appeared from thin air.

  The hammer fell with terrifying might, and Amur could only coat his arms with layers of rocks to cushion the blow.

  However, at the final moment, the hammer morphed into a fanged maw that chomped down on his arms instead.

  “Bastard!” Amur let out a pained hiss. The iron fangs had bitten through his defense, causing mind-numbing pain.

  He thrashed forward and managed to kick Konan off, before quickly rolling to his feet. In his arms were three gaping holes.

  “Oh my, I hope it doesn't hurt too much?” Konan laughed. He raised the maw and gracefully drank the blood that dripped from the edges.

  “Sweet mother of caves, how maddening!”

  Konan’s eyes flared with frenzy, his voice gaining a guttural depth. His clothes wasted away as his figure rapidly swelled to an imposing height.

  Gone was the prim and proper man, now replaced with a barbaric entity who lusted for more blood.

  Fucking animal… Amur’s expression twisted with disgust. He glanced at the strange weapon in the Barbarian’s hand and muttered, “An Artifact?”

  “That's right!” Konan grinned. “You have one of your own, don't you? Let's see it.”

  Amur laughed at that point. He slowly fell into an iron stance as he said, “I won't be needing it.”

  “Hahaha!” Konan The Barbarian’s laugh thundered. He raised the newly transformed giant sword in the air. “How arrogant. How arrogant! How arrogant!!”

  Then, he brought the sword down.