The darkness was alive and it waited to swallow you whole. That was the only truth in the Depths.
Elion activated his ability, scanning the area where movement had caught his eye. The silhouette of a quadrupedal monster wove itself from chromatic threads. They shifted, betraying intent—lurking, ready to ambush its prey.
The young cook didn't wait. He woke everyone up, signaling them to stay silent. He pointed into the gloom ahead. The creature was hiding in the forest above them, hard to spot without Elion's ability.
"It's a quadruped monster. Its tail seems like its primary way of attack. There's a shallow wound on its left side—that might be the best place to strike," he said, keeping his voice low.
Eshrod nodded, though she wouldn't be in the front lines this time. Since she hadn't taken time to rest, her broken ribs hadn't fully healed, so it was better to keep her in a support role.
Joart gritted his teeth.
"That's the Class III that ambushed us yesterday; we can't take it down. How far is it?" he asked.
"It would be better to face it here," Elion said. "We have the advantage in this open space. Running would only leave us vulnerable. It tracked your group all the way here—we'd just be delaying the inevitable."
"You want to kill it?!" the pretend noble blurted out, not hiding what he thought of the idea. "That's a Class III we're talking about!"
Hela and Alphons looked terrified. Leonard, already corrupted by Eshrod's own unwavering recklessness, didn't look too concerned. Talom seemed more aligned with Joart—he also wanted to retreat.
Elion's group, however, were getting ready to fight without complaint. It wouldn't be the first Class III they killed, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
"You can run away if you want—though I doubt you'd make it far," Elion said to Joart, unsheathing his sword.
The pretend noble eyed the masterfully crafted blade with a silent question, but now wasn't the time to ask. He sighed, drawing his standard-issue straight sword from S33.
Farha raised her sniper rifle, the beautifully crafted black weapon with golden accents looking as stunning as its wielder. She aimed into the darkness, guided by Elion's directions to draw the beast out.
She pulled the trigger. A wail of pain pierced the gloom. Gas hissed from the barrel—and also from one of the energy tanks attached to the right side of the rifle.
Farha frowned and detached the faulty tank, letting it fall to the ground with a clang.
Elion wasn't well-versed in such weapons, but it was easy to guess that the energy tanks gave the bullets enough force to slay Creatures of the Depths. Only one tank remained, and judging by her expression, she hadn't brought a spare.
The creature leapt down, landing gracefully in front of the group. It was a two-meter-tall feline monster with matted black fur. Beautiful, even—far more so than the usual putrid beasts they faced. Still trying to eat them all the same, though.
There was a shallow sword slash on its side and a bullet wound on its shoulder—blood staining the black fur. Its ember-like eyes burned with unbridled fury.
A sharp claw jutted from the end of its tail, accompanied by three finger-like appendages that grasped at the air.
"Left flank's mine, right's yours, Joart!" Elion barked. "Lumos—draw it in!"
"You got it, boss!" the sorcerer said sarcastically as Joart grunted.
The Class III lunged with terrifying speed, its wounds seemingly irrelevant. It was far faster than anything they had fought before—and it aimed straight for Elion. The young cook sidestepped. The monster's claws tore through his jacket, missing his skin by a hair's breadth.
Lumos struck at its neck with Jack's stolen sword, but the creature's tail curved upward, its solid claw blocking the blow like a slab of alloy.
Farha fired again. The creature dodged with unnatural speed, and Joart followed up with a clumsy attack. His blade barely grazed the creature's fur—lacking force—but blood welled where the standard-issue blade touched.
So, he can make his sword sharper using his ability, huh.
Elion was about to take a paw to the chest—enough to shatter his ribs and damage his spine—but the creature stopped, its body seizing up just long enough for him to step away.
Leonard stood behind him, blue lightning dancing between her fingers. A smoking spot on the creature's side filled the air with the scent of burnt flesh.
Okay, now I'm jealous. Spatial or Fire abilities are cool and all—but Lightning? Those are the best!
Kellta had reached her position mid-fight, unleashing a torrent of crimson flames on the creature's back. She had positioned herself to avoid hitting teammates while maximizing her destructive range.
Elion had thought a lot about the group's formation. The fire-wielding imp's ability was incredibly powerful—but in close-quarters fights, too dangerous. That's why she needed strategic placement.
Talom jumped to shield the sorcerer from a devastating tail strike. His body hardened like stone. The tail slammed into his chest, sending him flying. The blow would've killed any other newly Unlocked—probably even Lumos—but not him.
Hela broke from her stupor and went to help Talom, while Alphons finally joined the fray. With everyone in place, the Class III was surrounded—under fire from Farha, scorched by Kellta, and electrocuted. The melee fighters started to land real hits, slowing its relentless charge.
At this rate, they might win without serious injuries. But battle was anything but predictable.
Kellta's flames dimmed. They still burned, but the light weakened—like it was being overpowered.
Elion strained his eyes as the darkness thickened.
He felt something cut his cheek and was yanked back.
"Get yourself together!" Lumos shouted.
A flash of lightning lit the darkness. Elion's vision returned gradually. Leonard's eyes dimmed. She looked around, confused. The Class III was fixated on her.
So it can blind its prey but not all of us at once.
A clever, insidious ability. If someone faced it alone, they would surely die—even a Second Finger. Maybe even a Third.
But against a group? A bad matchup for it.
Elion dashed, his blade slashing across the creature's side—blocking it from reaching Leonard.
Seeing the shift, Kellta ditched the flames and lunged with Farha's knife, planting it in the monster's back, dangerously close to its spine.
She was flung away by its thrashing, leaving the blade embedded in its scapula. The creature howled.
An idea sparked in Elion's mind.
"Leo, now!" he shouted.
The blonde girl was still blinded, but she understood. Blue arcs danced between her fingers, flaring brighter. A bolt cracked through the air—this time, instead of dissipating in the fur, it struck the knife lodged near the spine.
The monster seized up, muscles twitching beneath its bloody coat.
Elion, Joart, Lumos, and Alphons lunged with swords raised to end it.
Its tail whipped wildly, knocking Joart back—but the other three inflicted fatal blows.
The young cook didn't get the message that he'd killed the Class III, so it had to be Lumos or Alphons.
He didn't really care. His Soul Integrity was still high enough.
Alphons gave a weak smile, something like hope flashing in his tired eyes.
Better it was him. He must have been dangerously low.
The young man stared at the bleeding body of the Class III, wondering why it had attacked them. The explanation that it was simply predatory by nature was easy to make, but still. It had some cunning and intelligence. Why didn't it flee when things got ugly for it? It clearly had the capability to do so.
Maybe creatures tainted by Entropy lost their survival instincts.
"Nice job, Lady Leonard… and you too, Alphons," Lumos said in an almost paternal tone.
"Ah, thank you," the black-haired young man replied. The blonde girl offered a polite smile.
"I guess that's taken care of…" Elion said, glancing at Joart, who was wincing as he sat upright.
He wanted to rub it in—that they'd defeated the Class III despite Joart's doubts. But he held back. Annoying as he was, the pretend noble did have some skill.
Eshrod, though…
"Who said we couldn't defeat it, huh?"
Joart stared at her blankly.
"You didn't even fight. You're not the one to talk," he said, gritting his teeth.
"Oh, I participated alright."
Here we go. Welcome to the club, buddy…
"How?"
"Moral support," Eshrod replied nonchalantly. "I mean, look at me. One glance and your fighting spirit is reborn!"
Elion stifled a laugh at Joart's expression.
That's the Chaos Gremlin for you. Fun—when it's not aimed at you.