Imperial Waters
788 Words
The sea beyond the empire was not blue.
It was black.
Not from darkness—but depth.
Harold stood at the bow of a frost-forged vessel provided by the Frost Phoenix Warlord. The ship cut silently through the water, leaving trails of crystallized ice in its wake.
Behind him, two elite retainers of the Warlord stood guard.
He had refused a larger escort.
Too visible.
Too political.
Luke’s voice echoed in his mind.
“The Abyss Leviathan doesn’t surface for noise. It surfaces for provocation.”
Harold stared at the horizon.
“Then we provoke it.”
⸻
The Abyss
Three days into imperial waters, the temperature changed.
Not colder.
Heavier.
The ocean stopped moving naturally. Waves no longer followed wind patterns. Instead, they pulsed.
As if breathing.
The retainers stiffened.
“You feel that?” one muttered.
Harold nodded.
Mana density was rising.
Not outwardly.
Downward.
Something massive was beneath them.
Luke’s tone shifted slightly.
“Careful now. This isn’t a beast. It’s an ecosystem.”
Harold stepped forward and slammed the butt of the Monkey King’s staff against the deck.
Golden energy rippled outward into the sea.
The ocean answered.
The water split violently.
A vortex formed.
And then—
A single eye opened beneath the surface.
Larger than the ship.
Ancient.
Blue-black and endless.
The Abyss Leviathan.
The sea exploded upward.
⸻
First Clash
The retainers moved instantly, unleashing frost barriers across the vessel.
The Leviathan surfaced partially, its body stretching beyond sight, scales like obsidian continents.
Harold didn’t hesitate.
Golden aura erupted around him.
The Monkey King manifested partially behind him, staff expanding in size.
He leapt.
Straight into the air above the ocean.
The Leviathan’s tail whipped upward like a collapsing mountain.
Harold spun mid-air, staff elongating, redirecting the force just enough to avoid direct impact.
The sea detonated beneath them.
Luke laughed softly.
“That’s not the core.”
“I know.”
The Leviathan opened its mouth.
A gravitational pulse erupted outward.
The water around them compressed violently, dragging Harold downward.
Devourer instinct.
Predator vs predator.
Harold allowed himself to fall.
At the last second—
Golden afterimages burst outward across the sky, confusing the Leviathan’s targeting.
He landed briefly on its scaled hide.
Planted the staff.
And slammed downward.
The Monkey King’s energy drilled through layers of abyssal armor.
The Leviathan roared.
But not in pain.
In irritation.
Luke’s voice sharpened.
“You’re scratching it.”
The ocean surged.
Tendrils of water hardened into spears.
The retainers’ frost barriers shattered instantly.
The ship cracked.
This was no S-rank beast.
This was ancient.
Harold exhaled slowly.
Then smiled.
“Good.”
⸻
The Turning Point
He closed his eyes for one breath.
The Monkey King’s aura compressed.
Not expanding.
Condensing.
Focused.
The staff shrank.
Then glowed blinding gold.
Harold moved.
Not faster.
Smarter.
He didn’t aim for the Leviathan’s head.
Or heart.
He dove toward its gill-line—where mana intake concentrated.
The gravitational pull intensified.
Water crushed inward from all sides.
Luke’s voice was calm.
“There.”
Harold thrust the staff deep into the Leviathan’s mana channel.
Golden energy surged directly into its circulation network.
Not to destroy.
To disrupt.
The Leviathan convulsed.
The vortex collapsed.
The ocean calmed.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then from deep within the creature—
A glow formed.
Blue-black.
Dense.
The Core.
But as it began surfacing—
Another presence appeared.
⸻
The Interference
Flames split the sky.
Crimson.
Dragon-shaped.
Riven Ashcroft descended from above, riding a draconic projection.
Behind him—
Imperial Dragon retainers.
Riven smirked.
“You really thought you could claim a Devourer ingredient unchallenged?”
Harold landed back onto a fragment of broken ship debris, calm.
“You followed me.”
“Of course I did.”
The Dragon aura expanded.
“You’re not awakening that titan.”
The Leviathan, wounded and furious, began to submerge again.
The core was still forming.
Time was short.
Luke whispered:
“Two threats. One wounded ancient beast. Choose carefully.”
Harold’s golden aura flared.
He looked at Riven.
Then at the Leviathan.
Then back at Riven.
And smiled faintly.
“Thank you.”
Riven frowned.
“For what?”
“For distracting it.”
Harold slammed his staff into the ocean.
The Monkey King’s aura exploded across the water surface, creating a temporary solid field.
He sprinted across it—
Not toward Riven—
But toward the sinking Leviathan.
Riven cursed and lunged forward.
But too late.
Harold dove into the ocean vortex.
Golden light vanished beneath the surface.
Riven hovered above, furious.
“He’s insane…”
Below—
In crushing darkness—
Harold descended.
Toward the forming core.
Toward the Devourer’s essence.
And toward something watching him from even deeper waters.
- Writer
