Deep beneath the sea cave's surface, where the sunlight barely penetrated, Johnatan and Myra swam through the dark, murky waters. The pressure was intense, but Johnatan's enhanced physical abilities allowed him to endure it, though he knew his time was limited. Myra, in her water dragon form, moved swiftly through the waters, her scales shimmering faintly.
As they descended further into the abyss, the water around them seemed to grow colder, more foreboding. Then, out of nowhere, a terrifying screech pierced through the depths, reverberating in Myra's mind. She winced, panic starting to claw at her as the sound threatened to shatter her sanity. Her massive body trembled in the water, her breath becoming ragged as the voice echoed in her mind.
Johnatan, sensing her distress, quickly focused his mental energy. His intelligence stats heightened his awareness, and he honed in on the source of the disturbance. His mind sharpened like a blade, cutting through the chaos of the moment. He placed a calming hand on Myra, sending her a telepathic message through their link.
"Stay with me, Myra. Focus. I'll find it."
Just then, two enormous skeletal tentacles shot up from the darkness below, aiming directly at them. Myra flinched, but Johnatan moved with lightning reflexes, drawing his sword and deflecting the incoming attack with a powerful swing. The tentacles retracted, leaving behind a trail of disturbed water as the depths trembled with a looming presence.
Suddenly, the beast itself emerged from the darkness—a massive creature with rotting, skeletal tentacles, eyes glowing with a malevolent light. Its very presence seemed to twist the water around it, and an aura of dread hung heavy in the air. It spoke in a deep, resonant voice that rattled the bones and chilled the soul.
"I am Bellion,"
the monster proclaimed,
"great warrior of Cthulon. I have collected the souls of countless victims, all offered to free my master from his eternal prison."
Johnatan's eyes narrowed.
"Who is Cthulon?"
Bellion's skeletal mouth opened wider, revealing rows of jagged teeth, a monstrous grin that reeked of malice.
"Foolish mortal, your question is irrelevant. You will not live long enough to learn of Cthulon's greatness. Your souls will join the others, for when 'the Terror's Tide' comes, no one will be spared."
As Bellion's sinister laughter echoed through the abyss, Myra finally regained control of her senses. Her voice, though shaken, steadied as she spoke to Johnatan through their link.
"What now? How do we fight something like this?"
Johnatan glanced at her, his gaze resolute.
"I have a plan."
His mind raced, formulating a strategy while Bellion circled menacingly below, preparing to strike again.
Bellion's tentacles lashed out again, faster this time, striking with terrifying speed and force. Johnatan barely had time to react as he deflected the incoming blows, each one sending shockwaves through the water. As he parried, he noticed something strange: every time Bellion's tentacles recoiled, they immediately regenerated, knitting themselves back together as though nothing had happened. It was the same ability Henry had used earlier—the relentless regeneration.
With his sword humming from the force of each deflection, Johnatan understood that this battle would not be won by brute strength alone. His mind raced, calculating how to stop the creature. He knocked back another attack, using the brief window of reprieve to communicate with Myra.
"Myra!"
Johnatan shouted through their telepathic link,
"I need you to gather enough kinetic force to throw me directly at Bellion's head! His core—his life force—is there."
Myra, still recovering from the earlier mental assault, hesitated.
"What if Bellion interrupts me? If my momentum resets, we'll lose too much time."
Johnatan met her gaze with determination.
"I'll protect you. You just focus on building up the speed. We only get one shot at this."
Nodding, Myra swiftly moved, swimming around Bellion in large, graceful circles. The water churned as she gained speed, gathering kinetic energy in the water's resistance. Meanwhile, Johnatan stood on her back, his sword ready, deflecting every strike from Bellion's relentless tentacles. The high-speed attacks were almost a blur, but Johnatan held his ground, his mind and body working in perfect sync.
As Myra spiraled faster and faster, Johnatan remembered his childhood—back when he was just a boy playing with a sling. He would swing the stone around and around, gathering force before launching it with precision at a distant target. That memory gave him clarity now, as he realized they were doing the same thing, only on a much larger scale.
Myra's circles became tighter, faster. The water around them surged as if caught in a whirlpool.
"I'm almost there!"
she called through their link.
Johnatan nodded, steadying himself on Myra's tail as she reached maximum velocity. His body tensed, ready to release his full power. With his sword raised in a lancing thrust, he aimed directly at Bellion's head, where he sensed the core pulsing with life energy.
Bellion, sensing their intent, screeched in fury. The monster unleashed a barrage of water-spiked bullets, each one whizzing toward them at deadly speed. Johnatan's heart pounded, but he remained calm. He deflected the bullets with quick, precise movements, knocking them away like pebbles in a storm.
"Not yet..."
Johnatan muttered under his breath, waiting for the exact moment.
The tension built as Myra swung around one final time, the energy now surging to its peak. Johnatan closed his eyes, his grip tightening on his sword.
"Not yet... not yet... Now!"
With a mighty surge, Myra hurled Johnatan forward at an astonishing speed, launching him like a bullet straight toward Bellion's head. Johnatan, his body aligned in a perfect lancing thrust, channeled his attack.
"Chaos Strike: Water Dragon Lance!"
he roared, his voice resonating through the water.
Johnatan's sword pierced through the water like a lightning bolt, striking directly at Bellion's core. The monster's eyes widened in shock as the blade made contact, plunging deep into its head. Bellion screamed, a deafening wail that echoed through the depths, shaking the very ocean floor. For a moment, everything froze as Bellion's body convulsed, its tentacles writhing in agony. Then, with one final screech, the creature dissolved into nothing, vanishing into the dark waters.
Exhausted but triumphant, Johnatan floated back toward Myra, who waited for him. The two shared a brief look of relief before heading back to the surface. As they reached the cave, they emerged, soaked and tired but victorious.
As Johnatan and Myra emerged from the depths of the ocean, a system notification appeared before him:
**(Level up!)**
Johnatan glanced at the notification briefly, still catching his breath from the intense battle. "I'll check that later," he muttered, waving it away as his lungs heaved from exertion. He looked over at Laron, who was waiting for them on the shore.
Laron let out a sigh of relief upon seeing them.
"You both made it back safely,"
he said, his voice filled with calm.
Johnatan nodded.
"How are the others?"
Laron replied confidently,
"The others have defeated the entire pirate fleet with ease. There were no losses."
Myra, now back in her human form, smiled at the sight of Johnatan and Laron.
"I'm fine,"
she said before anyone could ask. Her body seemed to glow faintly as the effects of her water dragon form lingered.
Johnatan quickly shifted back to the matter at hand.
"Prepare the ship. We're leaving the cave. It's time to set sail again."
As Laron and the others moved to follow his orders, preparing the ship for departure, Johnatan took a moment to himself. He opened his status screen to check the recent changes from his level-up:
- **Level**: 2
- **Title**: God Amateur
- **HP**: 11,500
- **MP**: 0 (no mana detected)
- **Hybrid Defense**: 2100
- **Damage**: 11.0 chaos damage
- **Strength**: 1100
- **Intelligence**: 1100
- **Agility**: 1100
Johnatan noticed that his **chaos damage** had increased by 0.1, which, while seemingly small, held immense significance. He remembered that **chaos damage** could wipe out a thousand enemies with just one point. This meant that the increase in his chaos damage gave him the power to annihilate armies with relative ease.
Satisfied with his progress, Johnatan closed the system. He noticed the crew was ready, the ship primed to set sail.
Laron approached him.
"Where to, Johnatan?" he asked.
Johnatan's gaze hardened with determination.
"We're heading to Alevion. That's where we'll begin our true mission and uncover what this world has to offer."
Without hesitation, Laron nodded in agreement.
"I'll follow you wherever you go master."
Johnatan's group continued their voyage across the open sea, the vast expanse of water stretching endlessly toward the horizon. The wind was favorable, and the ship glided smoothly, leaving the dark caves behind.
As the ship sailed toward the distant shores of Alevion, Laron approached Johnatan at the helm, curiosity in his voice.
"What's the plan when we land at the borders of Alevion? What's our first move?"
Johnatan glanced toward the horizon, contemplating their next steps.
"We'll start off as merchants,"
he explained.
"We have enough valuable minerals from our battles and explorations. We'll trade and sell them for a good price. If we can collect enough money, we can establish ourselves properly."
Laron furrowed his brow, confused.
"Money? What's that?"
Johnatan smiled at the question.
"It's the currency used in our world. A way to trade goods and services. We use it to buy and sell things."
Laron's eyes brightened with realization.
"Ah, you mean like gold coins! That's what we used to call it."
He paused, reminiscing.
"Back in the old days, one gold coin was worth a bag of potatoes or a sack of flour."
Johnatan nodded.
"Exactly. But times may have changed, and the value of gold coins could be different now. We'll have to adjust to whatever the current economy is when we get there."
Laron stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"I see. Since we've been in exile in Hailzard for so long, I don't know what the trading values are like today in Alevion."
Johnatan understood the uncertainty but remained confident.
"We'll figure it out. Once we've made enough gold coins, we can purchase land and set up a base. That'll be our stronghold in Alevion. From there, we'll be able to make strategic moves and grow our influence."
Laron's eyes gleamed with understanding and determination.
"I like the sound of that. I'll make sure we reach Alevion safely."
Johnatan smiled.
"Good. Let's head for the land of the future."
In the heart of the Kingdom of Emmerich, within the vast and bustling continent of Alevion, King Audric Thame's armies were hard at work. The air buzzed with activity as soldiers constructed enchanted barricades, fortifying their defenses in preparation for the inevitable monstrous assaults from Hailzard.
Amidst the preparations, King Audric stood on the settlements, surveying the land. His expression was tense as he reflected on the broken seals of Hailzard, the very ones that had kept its monstrous inhabitants imprisoned for centuries. Accompanied by his most trusted general, Spyder: one of investigation and strategy.
As the royal scouts investigated the ruins of the seals, General Spyder pointed to the magical remnants in the air.
"Your Majesty, the essence lingering here is of shamanic origin,"
Spyder said, his voice gravelly, but steady.
King Audric narrowed his eyes, his mind racing with possibilities.
"Shaman spells?"
He shook his head.
"That doesn't make sense. There are no shamans among the monsters of Hailzard—they can't commune with the spirits. Only those with true spiritual ties have that capability."
Audric paused, his thoughts drifting back to darker times. He remembered the decision of the former ruler, the tyrant Edward Stans, who had condemned countless primevals—beings older than humanity itself—to exile in the harsh lands of Hailzard.
Spyder, ever the inquisitive one, hesitated before speaking again.
"Weren't the primevals criminals, though? Isn't that why they were sent to such a fate?"
Audric's face darkened at the mention.
"No,"
he replied firmly.
"The primevals were mistreated for centuries. What Edward Stans did was not justice; it was cruelty."
His voice softened as he continued.
"King Arthur has been negotiating peace with the primevals of Blackhammer for years. He hopes to end the war and bring about a lasting peace, but the primevals refuse. They believe it is their right to reclaim the lands they once ruled. They were the firstborn of this world, long before humans ever set foot here."
Spyder nodded in understanding, his sharp eyes flickering with hope.
"It would be a good thing if the war could finally end. Too much blood has been spilled on both sides."
Audric sighed.
"I agree. But it won't be easy. The primevals have suffered too much, and their hatred runs deep. But if there's even a chance of peace, we must try."
Suddenly, a messenger arrived, breathless and wide-eyed.
"Your Majesty, there's a strange movement near the Black Sea. Something big is happening near the borders."
King Audric's gaze sharpened.
"Alert the troops. We're heading back to the base camp."
With a nod from Spyder, the call to arms was issued. The investigation would have to wait—another threat was rising, and Audric knew they needed to be ready for whatever came next.
King Audric tightened the reins of his horse as he turned to General Spyder, his face solemn but determined.
"General,"
he ordered,
"you and half of our forces will remain here to investigate the ruins further. We need to find out more about these broken seals. There could be clues we've overlooked."
Spyder gave a firm nod.
"Understood, Your Majesty. We'll leave no stone unturned."
Audric paused for a moment, his gaze shifting toward the ominous horizon.
"If the monsters of Hailzard attack, you have my permission to eliminate them. But if things become too dire,"
he continued, his voice taking on a grave tone,
"you must retreat immediately. No unnecessary sacrifices."
Spyder bowed deeply, acknowledging the command.
"As you wish, Your Majesty. I'll ensure the men are prepared for anything."
Satisfied with his general's resolve, Audric turned his attention to the rest of his forces.
"The rest of you, with me. We're heading back to Emmerich to investigate the Black Sea at the borders."
The soldiers quickly assembled, and within moments, King Audric and his half of the army boarded the
**Zephyrus**,
a mechanical airship crafted by the ingenious artisans of HammerSmite. The ship, a marvel of engineering with its sleek metal frame and immense wings, hummed with energy as it prepared for flight. Its gears whirred, and steam hissed from its engines as the crew made final adjustments.
Audric stepped onto the deck of the
**Zephyrus**,
his gaze sweeping across the vast landscape below as the ship slowly ascended into the sky.
"We'll reach Emmerich far quicker this way,"
he said to his men, his voice confident.
As the
**Zephyrus**
soared through the air, its engines roared to life, cutting through the clouds like a blade through cloth. The kingdom of Emmerich, and the mysteries of the Black Sea, awaited them.
Johnatan's group finally set foot on the bustling shores of Alevion's borders. The scene before them was unlike anything they had imagined. Ships of all shapes and sizes, from elven galleons with shimmering sails to sturdy dwarven vessels with intricate carvings, docked alongside each other. The air was filled with the sounds of merchants haggling, the clinking of gold coins, and the cries of seagulls overhead.
As Johnatan took it all in, Laron stepped beside him, explaining,
"This is how trading works in Alevion. Each kingdom has its own ports. The Kingdom of Archeus, Carderon, Aldenkeep, and Emmerich are known for their overseas trading. Meanwhile, the kingdoms of Brittania, Stormglaze, and Vireus manage the local trades."
Johnatan nodded, impressed by Laron's knowledge.
"And what kingdom have we landed in?"
"This is Emmerich,"
Laron replied. His tone was a mixture of pride and unease.
Johnatan glanced at Laron, curious.
"You seem to know a lot about this place."
Laron chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well,"
he began, his voice faltering slightly,
"I... uh, I used to work here, in a sense. When I was a slave, I was forced to labor, carrying goods and making deliveries across the kingdoms. I learned the ins and outs of the trade routes over the years."
Johnatan frowned, but before he could respond, a portly, bearded man with a wide grin approached them. His clothes were plain but neat, and his belly jiggled slightly as he walked.
"Ah, newcomers!"
the man exclaimed, clapping his hands together.
"Are you here to trade goods, perhaps?"
Johnatan stepped forward, his voice steady.
"Yes, we have a large stock of minerals to sell and trade."
The bearded man scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Hmm, well, that's good to hear. But you'll need to register with the head of resources management. Bill Ymar handles all new traders here in Emmerich. I'll take you to him."
As they followed the man through the crowded streets, Johnatan's eyes wandered. He marveled at the diversity of people — elves with their graceful strides, dragonoids towering over the crowd, and dwarves haggling fiercely over rare gemstones. This was a land of opportunity, a place where anything seemed possible.
As they neared the building where Bill Ymar's office was located, Johnatan turned to Laron.
"This is the beginning,"
he said quietly, his gaze focused on the horizon where the sea met the sky.
"Our first step toward achieving our goals."
Laron nodded in agreement, determination flickering in his eyes.
"Yes,"
he replied.
"And this time, we won't be stopped."