The roar of the Kraken boomed through the air, a guttural sound that tore the night asunder. Lightning flashed across dark waves to disclose the colossal form of the creature, its tentacles, thick as any ship's mast, coiling and thrashing through the storm like living shadows. The sea bucked beneath its fury, taking in whole ships with every surge.
Luther didn't move. Standing at the bow, his shirt whipped in the storm wind; wet hair clung to his temples, and rain slid down the sharp line of his jaw. His eyes, calm and cold, watched the writhing limbs ahead as though he were studying a particularly annoying insect.
At his side, the demonic sword vibrated with an eager humming, its veins crimson and pulsating like a heartbeat.
"You're not going to give it another lecture, are you?" The sword drawled lazily; its voice rippled through the downpour. "Like last time—'violence isn't the answer, you overgrown calamari.'"
