A cold, mechanical chime fractured the silence of the abyss, vibrating through the crushing weight of the deep like a funeral bell.
[DING!]
The darkness rippled as a translucent veil of light materialized before El-Mond's eyes. Glyphs of ancient, shimmering azure burned themselves into the water:
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Name: El-Mond
Race: Merfolk
Innate: Devourer
Core: Devourer Core
Domain: Devourer Domain
Evolution: Half-Step Duke Evolver
Skills Acquired:
Undying One
Void Blood
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The screen flickered and dissolved into the brine. El-Mond watched the last sparks of the interface vanish, his brow furrowing into a tight knot. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, narrowed in suspicion.
"Well," he muttered, his voice a low vibration that stirred the silt at his feet. "This is... confusing. System? Provide clarification. What do these skills entail?"
Silence followed. No ethereal voice answered; no scroll of text expanded to explain the nature of his new power. There was only the rhythmic, oppressive pulse of the ocean, a cold pressure that felt like the hand of a titan resting upon his shoulders.
"Right," he breathed, a grim smirk touching his lips. "I suppose I'll have to find out the hard way. As usual."
His gaze swept across the desolate seabed, but before he could move, a sudden, jagged spike of adrenaline pierced his heart. His instincts, sharpened by the recent evolution, screamed of an approaching death.
Something was coming.
The water fifty meters ahead began to warp, the fluid space distorting as if crushed by an invisible hand. From the lightless void of the deep, four shapes detached themselves from the gloom. They were colossal—serpentine nightmares that moved with a sickening, fluid grace. Four Great Eels, their bodies thick as cathedral pillars, glided into the periphery of his vision.
They came to a halt in a perfect semicircle, coiling and swaying like wolves circling a cornered buck.
CRACKLE.
Static discharge hissed through the salt water. Arcs of white-hot lightning danced between their scales, illuminating the abyss in strobe-like flashes of violence. They bared needle-teeth, snarling not in hunger, but in a calculated display of dominance.
El-Mond remained motionless. On the outside, he was a statue of composure, his posture regal and defiant. Inside, his heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Suddenly, the four predators recoiled. Their aggressive swaying ceased instantly, and they drifted apart with practiced subservience, clearing a path for a superior presence.
The sea itself seemed to groan under the weight of what emerged next.
It was the Crimson Eel.
Its scale was staggering, dwarfing its subordinates. Its scales were the color of arterial spray, shimmering like molten glass beneath the electric hum of its body. Violent arcs of crimson lightning crawled endlessly across its form, never settling, never fading. The sheer density of its aura bent the water around it, creating a localized gravity that made the sand on the floor dance.
Inside El-Mond's mind, the voice of Eldred erupted in a frantic, trembling whisper.
"Master... please, maintain your guard. Those four are Peak Seventh-Level Duke creatures, but that red one... its aura is a nightmare. It is a Peak Ninth-Level. No... it is standing on the very threshold of the Emperor Realm."
El-Mond's pupils contracted to pinpricks. Eldred was right. This was not a predator; it was a calamity.
Yet, El-Mond did not flinch. He stood tall, projecting a mask of frigid indifference.
The Crimson Eel's eyes—burning orbs of baleful light—locked onto him. A wave of invisible energy washed over El-Mond, a telepathic probe intended to flay his secrets and measure the depth of his soul.
It met a wall of absolute nothingness. The System had clamped down on El-Mond's presence, masking his power behind a void that even a near-Emperor could not pierce.
The Crimson Eel's eyes sharpened. It spoke, its voice a subterranean boom that echoed through the trenches like rolling thunder.
"What are you fools doing?" the beast commanded, its gaze shifting to its subordinates. "Do you not see? This is a Merfolk. Stop this mindless posturing at once."
The four eels stiffened, their fins vibrating in fear. Then, a hollow understanding seemed to dawn on them. They retracted their fangs, their hostility dissolving into a deceptive, oily calm.
The Crimson Eel exhaled, a plume of bubbles trailing from its gills. "Sigh... forgive them. They do not leave the inner trenches much. Please, traveler, pay their crude manners no mind."
It lingered there, watching, waiting for El-Mond to break the silence.
El-Mond said nothing. His mind was a whirlwind of cold calculation. Are they truly trying to lower my guard with such pathetic theater?
Across the gap, the Crimson Eel's eyes glinted with a flicker of genuine irritation. Smug bastard, the beast thought, its rage simmering beneath its scales. You high-blooded Merfolk think yourselves lords of the blue. You'll regret that arrogance soon enough.
"We are servants of the Great Thousand Tentacle Demon," the Eel announced, the name itself causing the surrounding water to recoil in a sudden chill. "We were commanded to investigate a surge of anomalous energy in this sector. Have you seen anything... unusual?"
Eldred's voice exploded in El-Mond's head, bordering on hysterics.
"Master! If that name is true, we must flee! The Thousand Tentacle Demon is a legend of carnage—a cannibal that devours beast and man alike. Two millennia ago, it took dozens of Emperor-level masters to fell it, and it slaughtered half of them before it died. Your breakthrough... the energy must have acted as a beacon!"
El-Mond's fist tightened. If what you say is true, then this is a tomb.
He looked the Crimson Eel in the eye, his voice smooth and cold as polished ice. "I have seen nothing of the sort. I arrived but moments ago on a similar quest for answers. But since your Master has taken an interest, I shall not overstay my welcome. I take my leave."
He turned his back, a deliberate gesture of dismissal.
CRACK.
The sea behind him didn't just move; it detonated.
A disc of concentrated electrical fury slammed into El-Mond's back. The shockwave turned the water to steam.
BOOM!
El-Mond was driven into the seabed like a meteor. A massive crater opened in the sand, a violent cloud of silt and debris swallowing his form.
"Stay put, little mermaid," the Crimson Eel rumbled, a cruel, wet laugh bubbling from its throat. The four subordinates joined in, their chattering screeches filling the abyss. "Go and fetch him. He knows something. The Master's hunger for that energy is not easily sated."
One of the smaller eels dived gleefully into the swirling dust, its body a blur of motion.
Thirty seconds passed. Forty.
The Crimson Eel's smile began to falter. "What is the delay? Bring him up! We cannot keep the Master waiting."
As the silt began to settle, a silhouette emerged.
It didn't crawl out of the wreckage; it floated.
El-Mond rose from the dust, entirely unscathed. But he was changed. His hair, once white as seafoam, had turned a depthless, oily pitch. It flowed behind him like living shadows. His skin radiated an eerie, necrotic energy that seemed to drink the light of the eels' electricity.
In his right hand, he held the tail of the eel that had dived after him.
Trailing behind him like a discarded ribbon was the rest of the creature's massive body. It was lifeless, drifting limply in the current. A jagged, hollow cavern had been torn clean through its skull, the edges of the wound charred black.
The abyss fell into a deathly, suffocating silence.
The Crimson Eel's eyes widened, the glow of its scales flickering as it felt, for the first time in centuries, the icy finger of true terror.
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TO BE CONTINUED...