Fleecians were not the type to shy away from monster-hunting. Indeed, in the earliest days of their cultural history, whaling was one of the most important industries in ensuring the nation's survival. As herds of the land's native mammals moved inland during the winters to avoid the freezing chill of the open sea air, whale meat became a staple of the colder months, while their bones were sharpened to produce the very harpoons used to hunt them. To say nothing of the country's victories against krakens in ages past, there was no nation more qualified to stalk the beasts of the sea than Fleecia.
Leviathan was another problem entirely. With scales rivalling those of a Dragon's and a maw large enough to swallow galleys whole, it was unquestionably the ocean's perfect predator, uncontested both in size and strength. Like a serpent scouring desert sands, it slinked beneath the waterline and took advantage of the comparatively glacial vessels, shearing entire decks with its jaws or splintering ships with its whip-like tail. The screams of sailors and warriors alike could just barely be heard over the foaming waves which lapped hungrily at their hulls.
"It's no use! We can't penetrate its scales!" Over the chaos, a single voice yelled, "This was a poor idea! We need to retreat before we lose the entire fleet!"
"No." Unfazed, Shilahi stood at the ready, with her spear held pointedly above her head, "Our volleys are enraging it. Soon, it will be time to strike."
"W-What do you mean by that, captain!?"
"Have you noticed it yet?" She replied, "The beast will not attack us, no matter how close we stray."
It was true that, from a defender's perspective, Leviathan appeared to be attacking indiscriminately, but Shilahi's vessel had somehow gone unnoticed despite leading the fleet.
"As I thought, it can sense my presence…" Her grip tightened, "Why would it ever risk straying close to the only warrior capable of harming it? Or, perhaps it's this spear that it so fears…"
Touching gently the sapphire rust on the speartip, her gaze fell to the darkening waterline, before returning to the panicked sailor at her side.
"Keep the ship close." She commanded, "I will return shortly."
"Return?" He blinked, "What do you-"
The man might have shouted after her, or rushed to grab a leg or some other extremity to prevent her fall, but Shilahi's fearlessness proved insurmountable as she leapt, spear and all, into the raging tide, suspending herself in the careless ocean surrounded by the splintered husks of longships and the bloating corpses of her comrades-in-arms. Beneath her, a vast darkness personifying the feral fears of man stretched endlessly, and the serpent's body could be seen stretching from one obscured fathom to another.
Bringing her spear down, Shilahi closed her eyes in concentration and touched her index finger to the tip. Gently, a colourless light sprang forth from the weapon, becoming a beacon among the tireless rain of flotsam. Magic without the use of an incantation was certainly possible, and rather common among particularly talented individuals, though only low-level effects could be reproduced without issuing direct commands to magical particles. Once, Shilahi had never been the type to practise sorcery, but five centuries and more had left her ample time to pursue the art.
She had become a target in the low light of that ocean--an opportunity for the undeniable intelligence of Leviathan to exploit. It knew of the danger she posed, and would not approach her if she was not completely defenceless. As if reacting to her presence in the deep, the serpent disappeared from view entirely, foregoing its assault on the fleet to delve into obscurity beneath the waves, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. Shilahi's heartbeat remained slow.
The beast came from below, where she was least able to strike back. It would have been pointless to evade, considering Leviathan's size, but that had never been her plan from the beginning. It wasn't her first time facing down the enormous creature's gaze, though its rows of razor-sharp teeth--like the obelisks of faraway Matishlavgita--brought to mind the innocent arrogance of her youthful self.
In an instant, she had been caught within Leviathan's cavernous maw. Were it not for her tactful light, the darkness within its mouth would have been even more all-encompassing than the unforgiving depths of the ocean. Shifting her weight, she readied the blue-tipped spear and thrusted with incredible force towards the palate, sending black blood spurting into the swirling maelstrom, finding herself breaching towards the pocket of air near the roof of Leviathan's mouth as its jaws clamped down completely. Hanging by the spear, she considered her next move with great caution, waiting for the water spurred by the creature's thrashing tongue to escape through the tentacled fans of its gills.
Leviathan surfaced again to splinter the hull of yet another ship, and the glowing rays of the afternoon sun creeped through its jaws, illuminating the crimson tunnel leading down towards its roiling organs. As splinters of wood and metal careened past her, Shilahi braced her legs against the roof of the beast's mouth and dislodged her spear, sending both the sage and her weapon plummeting into the Heavenly King's bowels. Attempting to slow herself by grabbing hold of the glistening cavities of flesh, she could only slow herself so much--the light from her spear revealing a hellish landscape of pulsating meat as she followed the waterfall of detritus and flotsam towards the stomach.
As the air became stagnant with the smell of rot and acid, she again dug the spear deep into the creature's body, and watched as whatever rubbish Leviathan had consumed was subsumed by a gaseous chamber of bubbling liquid, walls slick with a discoloured bile. The stomach acid of such a godless creature, as expected, was powerful enough to melt through solid stone, and if Shilahi understood anything about the body, she knew that the path forward was likely at the bottom of the sizzling pool. Raising a hand, she hooked her fingers around the incision her spear had created, slick with blood and water, and with more strength than any Onda, tore the flap aside, creating a cavity leading out of the beast's belly. Hauling herself out of the beast's trachea, Leviathan's thrashing movements beyond the confines of its innards forced her to brace against the fleshy overhang.
Stuck in a thin crevice between lengths of undulant muscle tissue, Shilahi used her spear to ascend slowly, treating Leviathan's innards as more of a mountain than a living creature. The rapid beating in her chest was shortly drowned out by a more intense sound--the deep, thunderous reverberation of the Heavenly King's own heart, large enough to send troublesome vibrations through the creature's body. Tearing through layers of soft fat and stretchy gristle, she used the sound as an indication of how close she was to her goal, enduring the wild dance of Leviathan as it continued to wreak havoc on the fleet.
As she drew closer, Shilahi unearthed blood vessels wide enough to sail a rowboat through, pumping the godless black tar which gave the beast life. Striking them was a fool's errand--her objective was the heart, the source of its madness, and following the vessels to their final destination, she climbed her way to a gargantuan organ--a throbbing engine of darkness the size of a house, stained black with corruption. The heat radiating from Leviathan's boiling soul forced Shilahi to wipe the sweat--and blood, from her brow, before approaching the heart with her spear readied. Whether lowly insect or grandiose serpent, all creatures submitted to the whimsical sorcery of their physiologies, and to the fragile heart most of all.
Steadying her footing as Leviathan flew through the deep yet again, she took aim at the foetid organ before piercing its surface with as much strength as she could muster. The deafening roar which followed her attack, barely muffled by the layers of skin and bone protecting her, signalled to Shilahi that she had harmed the beast. Tirelessly, her assault continued, with each passing blow of her spear springing forth fountains of boiling black blood. Unable to resist or counterattack, Leviathan could do naught but curl inward as pain wracked its immortal form.
From the perspective of the fleet, it appeared as if the beast had retreated, scuttling to the ocean floor with pained roars. As Shilahi tore into the heart's ventricles, tar-black blood gushed from its guideless vessels--enough to fill a lake, and which burned hot enough to sear the surrounding flesh. They weren't wounds inflicted by ordinary hands, for even Leviathan's innards were durable beyond comprehension, but Shilahi's strength had only been tempered on her journey towards enlightenment. As the thrashing ceased, her thoughts turned to a possible escape route, and, foregoing the first suggestion that popped into her head, another, more sensible proposition revealed itself.
The waters of Onaffor-Hen had been sullied with darkness. More sinister than a kraken's ink, it exuded an unpleasant odour, like a fouling corpse. Within the depths, a singular serpent, larger than any other creature in the world, spat forth globules of the desecrated liquid from its maw, unable to manage even a passing roar as its death drew near. Free from the passing glances of marine life, long consumed by the world eater, only Shilahi was witness to its final moment.
"What in the name of…?" A sailor muttered, steadying himself on the leaning deck, "Where's it gone?"
"If you've got time to speak, you've got time to fight!" Another voice replied, "Don't let your guard down just because there's been a moment of peace!"
"But… I can't hear it anymore…" He muttered, "What happened?"
Just then, he was caught by surprise. A silhouette, smaller than he had expected to see, leaped from the water like a sturgeon, garnering a yelp of surprise from the young man as he fell backwards onto his rear. With a splintering sound, the shadow landed on the main deck, with showers of water following shortly afterward.
"C-Captain!" A voice yelled, "What's happened to you?"
Shilahi's crimson shawl had been dyed a funerary black, and quite frankly, she smelled terrible. Nonetheless shouldering her spear with a satisfied look, the girl looked none the worse for fear in terms of injuries. Quite the surprise, seeing as she had just jumped from the gunwale moments prior.
"The serpent is slain once more." She proclaimed, "Onaffor-Hen is safe."
Pure silence.
Nobody could question her skills as the historical slayer of Leviathan, but to hear something so unbelievable sent the crew into shock. Seconds ago, they were worried that their ship was about to be swallowed whole, and now the beast was supposedly dead. If it hadn't come from the most credible source possible, nobody would have believed it for a second.
"...Well? Don't just stand with your jaws hitting the floor--go look for survivors!"