The tail of the whale struck the Giga Sea like a divine hammer, and the ocean answered with a roar. A wave, tall as a building and foaming with white fury, slammed into Aithur's little ship. It reeled backward like a kicked toy, the deck tilting wildly as the sky turned into a blur.
Aithur screamed and braced for death.
But then. A talisman was raised.
A burst of blue light surged from the sigil Hian had left behind, forming a translucent dome around the ship. It crackled, shimmered, and held firm, casting back the wave just enough to keep Aithur from being flung into the sea. The ship bounced once—twice—then settled, floating in the monstrous aftermath like a stunned leaf.
Aithur coughed, drenched to the bone. His fingers dug into the rail as he looked up, heart drumming, just in time to see the four cultivators rising into the air like gods from a storm.
"I'm not cheering for them," he muttered through gritted teeth, water dripping from his chin, "but I really don't want to die today."
Above, the battle began.
The whale erupted fully from the sea, a mountain of silver-blue flesh and glinting, rune-etched fins. Its roar split the sky. The water turned black beneath it, the air itself vibrating from its fury.
Jhen was the first to strike. Sword gleaming like starlight, he dove in with a grin, slashing across the whale's side. The creature twisted midair, avoiding the worst of it, and swung its flipper upward. Jhen narrowly evaded, his laugh echoing through the storm.
The twin cultivators split left and right, one forming a spiral of water around his spear, the other drawing a fiery arc with his blade. They moved in fluid synchrony, their attacks timed perfectly.
Hian hung back, his robes still as death, one hand forming slow, deliberate seals.
Aithur watched, tension coiling inside him. Despite their power, the whale seemed tireless. Its tail struck out again, forcing the twins apart. One of them cried out as a swipe caught his arm—a clean gash spilling red into the rain.
"Just a scratch!" the injured twin shouted.
His brother turned to him, panic flashing in his eyes.
"I said I'm fine! Focus!"
The whale dove, then leapt again, higher this time. The cultivators scattered, their silhouettes weaving across the sky like arrows.
Aithur narrowed his eyes.
Something wasn't right.
They moved well. Powerful, yes. But something about their fighting seemed... off. They were holding back. Or rather, they were struggling more than they should.
Where were the techniques?
Where was the elegance, the signature force of Azura Sect skills he'd heard legends about?
His mind flitted back to the first time he'd met cultivators on the riverbank. They'd announced themselves with pride—"We are from the Azura Sect!" they'd shouted as they flew over.
But these four...
His thoughts shifted to just minutes ago, back when they all stood together admiring the Giga Sea.
One of them—he couldn't remember which—had said, "We've flown over this sea many times, but never stopped to admire it before."
But that didn't make sense.
Another one had warned him that monsters only attacked those who flew over the Giga Sea.
If that was true, how had they flown over it safely before?
Aithur felt his blood chill.
"That's not possible... unless... unless they lied."
He tried to shake the thought off, focusing again on the fight.
The cultivators regrouped. Jhen shouted something, and the four took formation. Aithur couldn't hear what was said, but he saw their movement—perfect, disciplined, almost rehearsed.
The sky flashed as they launched their final assault. The uninjured twin came from the right, the injured one from the left, Jhen from above, and Hian from below. Their weapons pulsed with ethereal energy.
Their target: a faintly glowing stone embedded in the whale's chest.
They struck in unison.
A burst of white light erupted as the whale roared in agony. The ocean exploded around it, waves dancing with fragments of shattered energy.
Then—stillness.
The whale crashed into the sea like a falling moon.
Silence followed.
Aithur could only stare, soaked, exhausted, and stunned.
The water steamed around the beast's corpse. A gem—round, crystalline, and faintly pulsing with life—rose from its chest and hovered until Hian snatched it midair.
The four cultivators descended onto the boat.
"That was tougher than I expected," Jhen said with a grin, wiping sweat from his brow.
The twin with the wound tightened a makeshift wrap around his arm, his expression strained.
"You call that tough?" the other twin said, panting. "That thing nearly bit my head off."
"But it didn't," Hian said calmly, placing the gem into his storage ring. "Which means we're done here."
Aithur laughed suddenly. Relief washed over him, and he slumped against the side of the boat.
"You guys are insane," he said breathlessly. "But I'm glad you exist. I really thought that thing was going to eat me."
Jhen gave a careless shrug. "You were under our protection."
Aithur smiled.
But then—
The whale.
He turned his gaze to the floating corpse.
His thoughts returned.
They said monsters only attack those who fly over the sea...
But they also said they've flown over it many times before...
That's a contradiction.
His breath caught. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
They lied.
He looked at them again.
They weren't celebrating.
They weren't even resting.
They were—watching him.
He took a step back. Another.
His foot bumped the edge of the boat.
"Wait..." he whispered.
Then—
Pain.
Sharp. Cold. Sudden.
He gasped. Blood burst from his mouth. His knees buckled.
He looked down.
A sword. Glinting silver. Buried in his chest from behind.
He tried to turn his head.
Jhen stood behind him, eyes calm.
"W-why..." Aithur coughed, more blood staining the wooden deck.
Hian stepped forward. "You think too much."
The twins said nothing.
Aithur reached out, fingers trembling.
So it was all a lie... from the start...
At that moment the sword was pulled out.
Aithur Screamed.