"Wait, so you actually want us to just hang back and build up forces in the corridors while the others are down there battling undead?" Evelyn asked, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as Thalion finished explaining his plan.
"Exactly," Thalion replied with a grin. "Numbers won’t matter much in those tunnels. Just make sure the fishpeople don’t sneak up behind you and everything should go smoothly."
It really was ironic. The largest faction was about to sit around while the others did all the heavy lifting. But it suited him just fine.
"As long as I get to smash that red orc later, I don’t care," Kargul muttered, clearly displeased at missing out on so imdiate action.
"Oh co on, big guy. It won’t be for long. Who knows? Maybe we can even slip back up to the surface and help Annie look for Jakob," Josh suggested, his voice hopeful. He had never t Jakob, but he'd heard enough stories to feel sothing like loyalty. And he liked Annie. With Kael and the elves tangled in the tunnels, what better opportunity was there?
"Good idea," Thalion nodded. "But wait until the battle really kicks off before sneaking out. Kael and the elves probably left scouts near the entrance to keep an eye out for exactly that kind of thing."
"Until then," Jack announced cheerfully, "let’s go fishing in the other corridor!" He gave a mischievous grin and grabbed Josh by the arm, dragging him away with infectious energy.
"Good luck, Thalion," Evelyn called out with a wave. "Don’t go killing all the undead. Leave the witch and that red orc for us."
"Thanks. Don’t worry about ," Thalion said as he returned the gesture. "Just play it safe. If I can't sneak through, I might need to co back up."
Turning away from his team, Thalion stared down at the still water below. Everything was unfolding better than expected. Now ca the hard part. Sneaking past the fishpeople and navigating the subrged corridors. With luck, he might even manage to plant the bombs and escape without being noticed. That, of course, was optimistic. Still, they had over a day to destroy the pillar. For now, there was ti.
With two swift steps, Thalion launched himself from the ledge, shifting midair into the form of the Tidecaller Serpent just before reaching the water’s surface. He hovered for a mont, gliding low before slipping silently into the cold, salty depths. No dramatic splash, no ripples. Just silence.
He remained alert. If there were other fishn nearby, they would have heard the screams of their fallen comrade. But so far, the water around him remained still. Smooth, unbroken. He moved cautiously, winding his body through clusters of swaying algae and dense schools of tiny fish that darted around him like silver sparks. They would help to mask his approach.
The only viable path to the pillar lay behind a massive stone gate subrged nearly a hundred ters beneath the surface. The other gates had either collapsed or were sealed off by a strange material that couldn’t be touched. No one had figured out how to open or close them, which, in this case, worked in Thalion’s favor. The corridor ahead was completely underwater, flooded to the ceiling.
It was eerily beautiful down here. Soft rays of blue light ca from so kind of crystal one the wall, and Thalion spotted the occasional crab or silvery eel darting into crevices. Schools of tiny fish sward like living curtains, rippling and shifting with every minor disturbance. It made him wonder—was this place sohow connected to the ocean? Or had so long-forgotten divine aquarium burst, flooding this section of the palace? Given they were in the middle of a desert, the second option seed more likely.
He pressed on, gliding low and slow, using the movents of the fish and the vegetation as natural camouflage. Every flick of his tail and pulse of motion was carefully controlled. Already, his heightened senses picked up subtle vibrations ahead. There was definitely sothing in the next chamber. His body tensed with anticipation. From the way the water moved, he guessed at least one of the fishpeople was nearby.
Swallowing the blue crystals had paid off. Even without shifting, the Tidecaller Serpent had absorbed their power. He still had no idea how the process worked, but he felt stronger, more fluid, more attuned to the rhythm of the water. Compared to the last ti he used this form, he felt like a completely different being.
He dove deeper, gliding past tall strands of underwater moss and strange glowing coral. His senses flared again. Sothing big was just around the corner.
As he slowly circled the chamber’s edge, what he saw nearly made him break cover.
Sitting in the middle of the open space was a massive, pitch-black octopus. Its tentacles lazily drifted through the water as it hunted, coiling and whipping around to snatch up the tiny fish. The creature was enormous, easily the size of a small house, and radiated a quiet, simring nace.
Thalion imdiately knew it was dangerous. Powerful. Maybe even intelligent. He didn’t dare identify it using any skills, afraid that triggering detection might alert the creature, or worse, other nearby enemies. He wasn’t afraid of killing it, but a fight would send shockwaves through the corridor, drawing attention he couldn’t afford.
It was strange, though. Why hadn’t the fishpeople dealt with such a threat? Surely a beast like this would be dangerous to them as well. Then again, maybe they hadn’t co into this part of the labyrinth often. Or maybe it served so purpose Thalion didn’t yet understand.
He ntally cursed himself for not asking more questions during his interrogation. He had assud the corridors were either empty or held only minor obstacles. Clearly, he had been wrong.
Still, the situation wasn’t hopeless. If he stayed quiet, stayed patient, and moved carefully, he might be able to bypass the octopus entirely.
So Thalion hovered in place, watching and waiting, his senses tuned to every ripple and shift in the water.
Maybe so powerful treasure had flooded this place, creating a self-contained ecosystem? That possibility hadn’t occurred to Thalion until now. The idea that this palace had beco its own aquatic world intrigued him. But then, what exactly had the fishpeople been doing all this ti? Shouldn’t dealing with dangerous beasts have been one of their top priorities?
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Then another thought struck him. What if the octopus belonged to them? A pet or a guardian, perhaps, trained by a beastmaster. That would make sense. If an intruder attacked the creature, the handler could be alerted while the invaders still thought themselves unnoticed. Clever. On the other hand, putting a scout so far from the action, hidden behind a creature like this, didn’t seem like a particularly intelligent strategy.
Thalion remained still, quietly studying the octopus. Its thick tentacles writhed lazily as it snatched at the glittering swarm of goldfish that flitted around it. Despite the slow pace, the octopus was effective—every few seconds, one of the fish got caught and pulled in with a wet crunch. Strangely, the fish didn't flee. Instead, they hovered in place, bobbing and weaving as if trying to dodge the inevitable. Most of them failed.
He narrowed his eyes. What if the octopus wasn’t just a beast, but a shapeshifter with so kind of psychic ability, preventing the fish from escaping? That would certainly explain the odd behavior. Still, whether it was intelligent or just unusually lucky, a well-placed Aqua Lance to the head should be enough to end it. If not, he'd unleash a Tsunami Breaker and finish the job.
Positioning himself beneath the creature and slightly to the side, Thalion waited for the perfect mont. As soon as another goldfish was snagged by a curling tentacle, he released the Aqua Lance. A narrow jet of water shot upward like a harpoon, cutting cleanly through the octopus. The beast split in two before it even realized it was under attack.
Without waiting to see if the kill had drawn attention, Thalion surged forward, slipping through the chamber into the flooded labyrinth beyond. He avoided the main route the fishman scout had told him about. That path was the most direct but also the most heavily guarded. Now that he knew rare creatures lurked here, maybe he could even find a useful skill or upgrade for his form.
Before moving on, he stored the octopus corpse in his spatial ring and examined its attributes. Disappointingly, there wasn’t much of interest. If the creature had a ntal manipulation skill, it didn’t register on his interface. There was a camouflage trait, but it seed dependent on the octopus's soft, color-changing flesh, useless for his scaled serpent body. One ability improved arm coordination, but it required limbs, which his current form lacked.
Still, a thought lingered. On Earth, octopus limbs were famously independent. Could adding them to his form improve intelligence or reflexes? Perhaps even grant new instincts? Why not try? He added five of the octopus’s tentacles to the Tidecaller Serpent’s body.
The result was... disturbing.
They hung awkwardly from his sides, limp and alien. A quick scan confird no increase in intelligence or ntal capabilities. Worse, the limbs didn’t seem autonomous at all. Just boneless, rubbery deadweight. With a shudder, Thalion imdiately removed them. He felt mildly nauseous, as if his body had been invaded by sothing fundantally incompatible.
Moving on, he dove deeper. The corridors branched out like arteries, offering countless paths toward the pillar. His title gave him a faint sense of direction—not precise, but enough to orient himself toward his goal. He wasn’t in a rush. His allies were strong and could handle themselves. If things went wrong, they could always retreat to the Black Fortress and wait for his return.
The sunken palace around him shimred with soft, bioluminescent light. Blue runes etched into the stone walls cast an ethereal glow, illuminating broken arches, shattered bridges, and crumbling columns. It reminded him of the underwater exhibits in Dubai’s aquariums—only this was far grander, and far more ancient. Schools of fish swam through collapsed ceilings, and crabs scuttled along ruined mosaics.
Peaceful… mostly. Occasionally, a crab snapped a fish from the water, or a larger predator swallowed sothing whole, accompanied by a sickening crunch. But otherwise, life here flowed in a strange harmony—until sothing disturbed it.
The first real threat ca crawling out of a shadowed hallway. It looked like a dragonfly larva, only massive, easily the size of a small car. Its four rear legs propelled it forward like a frog swimming through the depths. Beneath its gaping maw, two limbs like the forearms of a praying mantis twitched, jagged and backwards-jointed. Its wide, bulbous eyes glead, each one filled with clusters of pupils that constantly scanned its surroundings.
Thalion coiled silently behind a cracked pillar and watched. The creature approached a chamber filled with larger fish, so resembling oversized trout. In a blink, its mantis-arms shot forward, impaling one of the fish and yanking it toward its mouth. A few crunches later, it was gone. The rest of the swarm panicked and scattered through holes in the wall, escaping narrowly. The creature didn’t pursue. It simply floated lazily toward another fissure, ready to strike again.
Thalion waited a mont longer. He wanted to be sure nothing else was lurking below. For a second, he considered sparing the creature—it was just hunting. But experience was experience, and he was still a few levels short of his next evolution.
He struck with precision. Another Aqua Lance, silent and swift. The Tidecaller Serpent's passive abilities masked his presence so well that the creature didn’t detect him until the lance pierced through its thorax. It twitched once, then went still.
He examined the corpse, but once again found no useful skills. The limbs were bulky and awkward, offering nothing of value to his form. With a sigh, he stored the body anyway. Space was unlimited—why waste potential materials?
Pushing forward with fluid, rhythmic movents, Thalion headed down the corridor from which the insect had erged. It was ti to draw closer to the pillar and maybe, just maybe, discover a form worth keeping.
User Comments
0 comments from readers