The storm screamed above, lightning shredding the sky as the sea itself vomited forth a monstrous legion. The dragon of water coiled in the air, its wings like twin whirlpools in motion. Beneath it, eels crackling with electricity slithered over the deck, and water-bears bellowed as their claws dug into the soaked wood.
Silva struck first, lunging into the horde with inhuman speed. Her spear spun, slashed, and thrust with the precision of a thousand drills. Eels tried to wrap around her body—she tore through them, carving clean arcs through electrified flesh, mist and water flying in all directions.
The Commander was raw brutality in motion. His greatsword became a wall of steel, every swing carving through monsters like waves through sand. A bear leapt—and was split in midair. An eel struck from behind—he twisted his body, grabbing it with one hand, slamming it into the deck, and impaling it with a boot through the skull.
Silva ducked under a bear's claw, stepped on its forearm, and vaulted over it, leaving it exposed.The Commander brought his blade down in a decapitating arc, the head thudding wetly as he pivoted to guard her flank.
He kicked a bear back into Silva's reach.
She lunged, spear spinning like a cyclone. It tore through three creatures at once, their bodies split in rhythmic unison.
Silva broke left, her aura cloaking her like a phantom.
The Commander surged right, carving a swath of death through anything in his path.
Silva hurled her spear, white aura threading it with speed beyond sight—it slammed into the side of the dragon's neck, causing a section to ripple and collapse in water.
The Commander leapt, catching the weapon midair, and drove it down like a thunderbolt into another water bear, pinning it straight into the ship's deck. Silva lifted the spear back into her eyes as her aura flared out in a large explosion, dissolving the sea beasts that touched it.
Then came the laugh.
The horse, still atop the massive Godcrab, let out a sick, distorted sound. Its watery eyes narrowed. From its mouth came a twisting howl, aura bending the air as it formed a spear of pure, liquid death. Lightning kissed the weapon—blue bolts lashing down from the sky as the spear surged forward and crashed into the ocean with enough force to launch geysers into the clouds.
Renzo's boots slammed against the wood floor, echoing down the corridor like frantic war drums. His chest rose and fell with each sharp breath as he ran, a trail of panic dripping from every footstep. Behind him, the sound of crashing waves and unholy roars shook the very bones of the ship.
He skidded around the final corner and found Zay—kneeling in the same exact spot, unmoved by the chaos outside. Aura spiraled into his body, vanishing beneath his skin like a living storm being compressed into a single vessel.
"ZAY!" Renzo's voice cracked. "There's hell happening out there! The ship's about to snap in half, and those guards are—"
He stopped. Zay remained still, his breathing shallow, his eyes closed—until they slowly opened, revealing the faintest shimmer of violet.
"...It's time," Zay muttered. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "I have… n-no other choice."
Renzo's heart sank. "You're going to use it?"
Zay turned his head fully now, eyes heavy, solemn. "I won't let my brother die. If that means using this… then so be it... close your eyes Renzo."
For a moment, Renzo said nothing—because his mind was already drifting back.
On the True Wind, before they landed at Caelondis.
Zay had sat alone at the end of the long stone table, arms folded over open tomes. His fingers traced lines of sealed pages, eyes burdened with ancient knowledge.
"If it comes down to it…" Zay had said, his voice low, "What should I do… if I'm forced to use the Monster Core before I've adapted to it?"
Renzo had moved a book aside, avoiding Zay's gaze. The ship swayed gently beneath them. "...Use it if you have to. I don't think it's wise, but... if it's the only way…"
Zay had nodded, exhaling through his nose, eyes distant. His thoughts had wandered then—to Lily, Maple, Renzo, Mother, Father, and every broken memory of every reset he'd been cursed to remember. Each death carved into his soul like cuts on marble. Burning. Drowning. Piercing steel. Blood on stone.
Back in the present, the storm outside screamed like the sky was being torn apart.
Renzo stood in the prison chamber, where broken iron bars littered the floor like discarded regrets.
Zay raised his hand, trembling.
"I know you can hear me," he whispered, his voice threading into the void. "I can still feel your soul within the core… Ashgrave."
He pressed his palm to the floor, his fingers glowing with black aura. "I command you. Kill every last one of them."
The world vanished.
Zay collapsed.
Within the void of his mind, he stood—alone.
And then, something loomed above. A towering shadow of muscle and dread. The wolf of night. The slayer of stars. The Beast Who Stained Akser. Ashgrave.
Those abyssal black eyes gazed down at him with hate that transcended lifetimes.
There was no voice came from it—no sounds that remotely resembled speech. Only loud roars and deep, guttural growls. Yet somehow, those growls and roars formed words of their own.
"AND WHY SHOULD I?" the voice boomed like a god with a grudge.
Zay's teeth clenched. "I won the Core Clash. You know I did. You can help willingly… or I'll force you. I'll chain you into a Spirit-Bound and make you fight, beast."
Ashgrave growled—a sound that shook Zay's bones. His breath came out in a thick mist, curling into the air like smoke from a hell-forge.
"…Fine."
Zay's body twitched. Then sparked.
Black aura surged over his skin like fire catching oil. It devoured his tunic, his restraints. The shackles on his wrists shattered like glass with a mere flick. The ones around his ankles crumbled with a single step.
His hair, once streaked in white and red, faded into void, pitch-black with no gleam, no shine—as if light had abandoned him.
Then his eyes opened.
No longer amethyst.
Now abyssal black, with violet rings pulsing like the eye of an eclipse.
Renzo stepped back instinctively, his breath stolen. He closed his eyes as Zay had said
Zay didn't move. Ashgrave moved.
Every step he took sent reverberations through the ship, the planks groaning beneath the pressure, as if the vessel itself feared what it now carried.
[Arbiter: Your current strength equals that of a Primordial Beast by unknown methods.]
The message faded as he marched down the corridor.
Above deck, the battle froze. The two guards stopped mid-swing. Monsters turned to face the corridor, sensing it… that presence—a pressure so vile it drowned even the thickest aura.
Then he emerged.
A figure cloaked in shadow and death, his body radiating force. The wind howled louder, only to be silenced by his steps.
The sky above warped—the hole torn by the dragon's wings sealed shut.
Darkness reigned.
No stars. No sun. Just the void.
The Godcrab let out a shriek, and the horse-beast atop it reared its head in confusion.
From Zay's mouth came a voice not human, not natural—a cold, guttural, ancient rumble that shook the blood in every living being.
"You… are the reason."
He lifted his hand.
"SHUT THE HELL UP!"
The words ripped through the storm like the swing of a divine blade. The horse-beast screamed, blood pouring from its ears. The Commander stumbled. Silva's eyes widened as she turned to him.
Zay stepped forward.
His aura howled, crushing down on everything nearby. The rain stopped. Even the ocean itself… seemed to pause.
He ripped the remains of his tunic away. There were no wounds. No bruises. Not even scars.
[Unholy Regeneration]
His hair moved as if alive, pulling back from his face, revealing his black, empty gaze.
Silva gasped, her throat dry, her soul trembling.
"...Light…" she whispered in horror.
"...Light cannot reach that man."
Zay took a slow step forward. The ship trembled beneath his feet—not from weight, but from presence. His gaze, empty and void of light, swept over the chaos ahead. A tide of smaller sea beasts—eels with razor fins, scaled abominations with too many eyes, spined serpents that shimmered with hostile aura—screeched and hissed at him.
But the moment his gaze locked with theirs, they froze mid-charge.
One by one, they trembled… then turned. In defiance of the mounted horse's silent commands, the creatures plunged into the sea below of their own volition. They vanished into the depths without a trace, driven by a primal instinct deeper than loyalty— absolute fear.
Zay didn't stop walking.
He passed Silva.
Their eyes met, and her breath caught. Her knees nearly buckled.
He passed the commander without a glance, and then—
—He leapt.
A black mist surged around his feet, forming ephemeral platforms beneath each step. He walked across the air like it was solid ground, ascending steadily toward the horse on top of Godcrab. The winds screamed, the rain bent away from him.
Above, the dragon shrieked and released a colossal torrent of pressurized water—a waterfall turned weapon, crashing down from the heavens with enough force to obliterate the ship a dozen times over.