18TH

The subtle sound of what I can describe as whispering persists to make its way through my auditory, barely obscuring the rest of the cave's natural ambiance as I continue to amble through the waters that seem endlessly flowing in directions. In hand, I have a fat lump of glowing algae, tracing the walls with obvious patterns for me to recognize where I've gone and how far I've delved. I can't afford to be lost in a cave and die of hunger. That'd be too untimely and pathetic. I know it's stupid to even bring myself to a place like this for a whispering calling to me. The man's probably looking for me now — if he has his energy back.

The sound seems to have power over me, demanding to be found wherever it is coming from like a lost stray shouting for help. It has been that way ever since we arrived in the municipality anyway. I don't even know how high we've gone to the cave's entrance.

Eventually, I arrived on land. But I'm rather conflicted about which of the split directions I should take. The sound seems to continuously echo from all of them. But, I rather trust my legs' own instincts and simply let them decide. I pick up more lumps of algae to leave my trails uncut, and the whispers seem to begin to increase in volume.

Wherever that weapon is, I know it's the one calling to me. The precedent signs and puzzle pieces are enough for me to be convinced, even though that one dream differs from what I currently see. I neither feel anything exciting nor a sort of doubt, as well. Only curiosity.

The descending path seems to lessen and lessen with algae for me to retain leaving trails along the way, but that doesn't make me concerned — not yet, at least, despite how far I obviously have gone. Maybe I'm further within the mountain? There's still remaining light reflected by the moist rocks yet it can't provide me much easier visuals to remember the winding path, not like I need it further since there aren't any other directions but forward. I begin to spot protruding crystals along with the sharp mineral formations pointing out from the walls, which alone makes my chest elevate percussion. They're present in that dream, too. I can't deny that it even adds confirmation that I'll find the weapon here. As I had assumed, crazier things turned out to be true.

Right now, I'm more focused on the sound that persists to get louder and it's beginning to bother my eardrums. Though, I'm still able to hear rushing and splashing water nearing. Is this it?

The tunnel's end greets me with a clear view of what has been calling to me, sitting in between the two points where two vertical rock formations meet — or, rather, what makes the two rock formations meet. It shines, reflecting the rest of the cave's natural light even with its dark glass color. From here, I can still make out the precise details it has, legitimately resembling those in the dreams. More prominently, the image of it being in the grasp of the man. Or assumingly, my father.

I remember seeing rocks emerging from below, but that part doesn't seem to become a reality when all I see below is only water. Parts of dreams can be tricky at times unless they're meant to mean something else. From what I can tell, the waters aren't shallow, so I might just have to take the leap. With all my human might, I dive headfirst.

My eyes are able to see no swimmers or any other organism, though what my vision can make out is not as far as it goes from any direction, not even the depths that seem to be bottomless. The algae are non-existent here, but only the same large shards embedded on rocks. The noise is still screaming in my ears, unmuffled by the water, simply implying that it won't stop until it meets the satisfaction of the weapon being in my hold.

No currents are present to overpower my stamina as I resurface, though I can't help but feel somehow… accompanied. My hands greet the steep and mossy shore of the rock formation that meets the waters, though the rigid bumps should be enough for me to climb on it. My gaze darts straight up to the distant object — still screaming through my eardrums. If I'm to estimate, it's around fifty meters high, equidistant to that of the other rock formations meeting the ceiling. I should be able to make it. Gladly, the rock's surface cooperates with the texture despite being smeared in plain moss, letting me crawl effortlessly without slipping. I only have to deal with how steeper and thinner the rock gets as I further ascend.

My confidence is unwavering and I begin to build up my speed. When my own brain speaks, almost there, that's when one of my feet missteps, and I yelp splashing back into the water. The delayed disappointment urges me to charge to resurface, an angered demeanor on display. The noises are only making it worse, but I rather do the next attempt than throw a tantrum.

I take slow and deep breathes upon every step I do, at the same time, being aware of which dents and bumps to attach to next, only to fail again, and again, and again… and again, that I could no more count the number of attempts I have done for the time being until I just left myself drifting underwater. My gaze rests upon the sword's figure through the subtle waves above. The noise has somehow stopped or at least has wound down in volume, and all I can do is listen to its nonstop demand.

My lungs are numb, but not complaining about air as if I'm an Atlantean being. I'm, otherwise, calm, yet I don't know why. I don't know why I can't even move anymore. It's not that any of my limbs are in pain or that I have given up. I shut my eyes and sigh in my imagination where I get to see the clear picture of the man's figure from my dreams, still having no clear facade, only him holding two swords, one in each hand. He raises one forward to me as if he's offering it. The same sword is locked in between the rocks. Why do I feel demanded to take it, and have no other choice but to do so?

The whispers intensify again as if they have only rested for a second to come shouting louder at me. Louder and louder, it gets, then it suddenly stops, making me open my eyes again. Before I know it, I feel myself get snatched by claws and thrown out of the water. My back hits the wall as I'm slammed into it by what my eyes can comprehend is a creature triple my size, with a skin of solid carapace, its spine lined with spikes resembling its skin, a long muzzle of mouthful canines with a thin pair of tongues similar to that of a snake's. Its nose line gleams with a dotted yellowish-purple color. No, the rest of its body is lined, too in spiral patterns.

It can't be. A Hellion? How can a Hellion be here? If I'm to classify, they're of class first. But it doesn't mean they're to be underestimated. A single one takes groups to kill, hence each party scout exists in the front soldier division. But again, if I managed to kill a bigger one in the desert, why not this, especially since I'm like them?

The delayed realization kicks in as I see from both corners of my eyes the surging purple energy radiating out of my wrists — one pinned upon the solid wall over my head, the other rather resisting the claw that wants to impale me — dancing in the same spiral patterns. A roar blasts upon my face, the unpleasant smell of digested water forcing its way through my nose. My gaze heeds to another that's crawling fast upon the high cave ceilings toward us. I struggle to remove myself from this creature's lock while my other arm is already in between its teeth. But the purple energy already surging through my wrist is preventing puncture and pain. Then we fall back splashing into the water when the other intervenes.

It's a little more difficult to maneuver at this point with me ending up being dragged to the seemingly endless depths, now by both of them. The light from the surface begins to fade from my vision's vicinity due to my constant sinking. I can't enable myself to give attention to it when there's the priority of the need to fully escape from the Hellions' hold.

Out of nowhere, my muscles seem to suddenly gain a frenzy, and I feel my fists burst with the familiar energy. I have no time to think of what I just did as I'm swimming back to the surface, a little faster as if I am indeed a natural Atlantean until I am now again clambering upon the rock in reach for the weapon. The noises return, rapidly whispering as if I'm being told to hurry. And I am. Either I get mangled to pieces or I get out of here alive, not that it's even likely.

An inch gap between my fingers and the blade remains before my leg is again in the claws of one of the vicious Hellions. The other half of my brain seeks the other's whereabouts as I desperately scuffle. I have all my fingers punctured into the rock, I happen to just notice. Yet, the brittle and crumbly state sends me the sign it won't be able to hold me long. The sword's right there, mere inches from my reach. At this point, my thinking process is completely constrained. And it worsens when the other hellion reappears just above the opposing rock formation, claw ready to shred my face off. My Hellion instincts don't waver either to have me survive it and I swing to the side. That's when the portion of the rock holding the whole weapon fully collapses. Fortunately, it falls toward me and one of my available hands meets its handle.

I roar as I release myself from the crumbling rock to spear the blade's tip into the Darken's skull that is still holding onto my foot. This is heaven knows how many times I've fallen back to the water. But that should be the last time as I have what I need to obtain. I only have to take care of that last Darken before I find my way out of this place.

The dim waters don't agree with my vision to see the remaining vile creature's whereabouts, but then, I remember the unearthly abilities I possess — one being able to see every corner of the environment. Though, how do I do it? I haven't learned how to make it work like in recent times. Maybe I can try now. There's no flat land to stand on so I rather lean against the sturdy wall, directing my vision to maximize picturing the entirety of the environment, including the depths. My breathing settles to neutral before I realize that I see everything now, from the very obvious to the very hidden smallest and tightest corners and cracks crawling with the same purple energy like a radar. Even the shaky waters are dismissed and I can mostly see the shape of every object in its depths, but not the Hellion. And not even the corpse of the first one…

I've already reacted before my ears respond to the ominous ringing, and I dart my attention to my flank. The split-second window of seeing the leaping creature after existing stealth is enough for me to raise my blade to block, along with the comprehension that it has increased in size and has formed two extra pairs of limbs. A thin veil of energy flashes before me as I guard but it fails to protect me.

It can't be. The corpse fused with the other?

I feel my back being smashed behind with the impact of the Hellion pushing me back to the waters, making me lose grip of the blade. The extra strength it gained overwhelms mine, and my own strength can no longer rival it. The ironic idea that I'm being overpowered by a fusion of two class one Hellions when I killed a newer unclassified one days ago is a huge laugh to my face. No, that irony won't be justified when I still have breath in me. This is still new, though. Hellions fusing.

My gleaming hands are on hold of its canine-lined jaws, resisting its bite, only to push me further into the depths. My lungs don't need attention at the moment, but only my survivability. My rear finally makes contact with the bottom and I'm starting to lose grip over the mouth that's to eat me alive. I try to find an opening to finally make a punch and I manage to. Is it just me or has a beam blasted out from my fist?

It becomes confirmed when I'm able to make out the smoldering muzzle of the momentarily stunned creature. A whistle captures my attention to greet the sword that I have dropped earlier, the blade half-buried into the floor meters away from me. I desperately swim for it, having to go against the existing currents pushing me the other way.

Almost there, before the beast comes for me again. I have my other fist ready to throw another blast — if I can again. The moment my hand is in full grasp of the handle also happens the energy from my hand smothers the entire weapon in bullet speed. The Hellion is mere meters from ending me in between its deathly jaws, yet the execution of the initial thought where I abruptly land my other fist onto the glimmering blade which causes an explosion through the whole water is faster. Then, the next seconds become unregistered to me when I'm barely conscious and drifting again. I got tolled, too,

Did I hear someone speak just now? A man's voice. Yes, a familiar voice. But I do not know, nor recall where I might have heard it.

"Pebble…"

That word triggers my consciousness back, first having to retrieve the weapon once again before resurfacing. My ears meet the cave's painful rumbling and my view of the crumbling walls and cracks almost everywhere. Where's the Hellion? No remains or corpse is seen. But if I can recall what happened seconds ago, the blast might have obliterated it to nothing.

The exit is what I look for next, only to find it no more, completely sealed. What did I do? My instincts just told me to do that maneuver and it cost me my escape in exchange for defeating that Hellion.

The high ceilings continue to shred and it will not take long until I'll be forever trapped here. I swim fast seeking alternative exits. None. Just the waters and streams flowing out of directions, the crystal-embedded walls covered in algae, and the huge pillar of rock that used to hold the blade that is about to collapse as well. That's it. The only left unexplored is the rest of the depths, so I use the weight of the blade to have me plummeting fast back to the bottom of the waters after taking a huge breather — not that I really needed it. My Hellion vision activates once more and clarifies that there are also no paths to exit this place, not until the currents shift as I notice the ceilings have fully given. That impact sheds off a portion of the sidewalls. Is that it? The only way to find out is to approach it.

The waters are being sipped through, and my vision sees it extending to another open area, but I can't be sure if it's the actual exit. I have no other options, anyway. The hole appears too narrow for me to fit through, so a quick solution sinks, and I throw my fist forward. The expectation doesn't fail as the same energy surges out of my fist, tearing the gaping passage wider. Upon blast, the currents shift again, my body feeling the sudden thug to the extent that my motion is completely beyond my control. I try grabbing onto something only to slip and scrape my palms. I can't even have the sword in my attention at the moment or even see clearly to stop myself from smashing against the rocks ahead. The torture stops as I smash through one last layer of a wall and end up splashing into another waterbody. I managed to sustain the pain to crawl to the nearby shore and lie flat. How many more waters do I have to splash into?

Finally, land. I almost whisper. My chest heaves, either barely calm or exhausted. I don't even know how my body functions now with more of my Darken abilities manifesting. But the important thing is I'm still alive.

I rise again to jump back to the gleaming crystal water, reacquiring the weapon again. In my hold, my own image is seen through its dark, reflective, long blade. Then, I scan my palm as I'm sent into contemplation, seeing traces of the remaining glow dancing in the same spiral pattern fading out, while also seeing the vague image of the man reaching the blade to me in my head. These visions are so sharp to prove that my father really has something to do with this power. But finding this sword in a cave that is guarded by two Hellions that aren't supposed to be there? It's beyond outre.

Back to the weapon, I sense a different aura emitted by it — a foreign feeling of familiarity that I cannot put my finger on besides the assumption that it has a history. More questions rather keep piling up and it just boosts my desperation to get answers. But getting out of this place is what I have to do first. If I'm to count, I've been away for hours already, and I have no clue how much longer it will take me to find the actual exit despite the convenience my vision provides.

My ears twitch and I react, twisting as I swing my blade where it makes contact with something solid. I thought I had killed it, but it's still here only on its remaining three legs, a portion of its malformed face gone, torso torn. How can it even survive a blast that powerful and be able to stealth again, and follow me to my escape here?

The Darken taunts me with its unrelenting growl and predatory gaze as it ambles preparing to pounce once again. My slash dealt a good slice upon its side, but I don't know if it even dealt any pain. Not that it matters. At the end of the day, it doesn't belong here.

Its mouth spreads, emitting a snarl of contempt, making my grip around the crystal weapon's hilt constrict. I'm ready to finish it once and for all. We clash, having to first block its claws and canines. My abilities oblige me to have the same energy burst from my wrist to the tip of the sword. The beast knows how to defend itself and seems to know how to use its size as an advantage. All I need is access to its neck.

The environment becomes an arena where I'm able to use it as an advantage as well, having to briskly slither through the protruding stones and crystals and the beast simply smashes relentlessly. Bits and pieces splinter its chassis body and exposed flesh. I'm able to land a few strikes and blasts in exchange for accidentally scratching my leg over one crystal. The pain and sudden numbing become a distraction that I don't get to conjure my shield with my sword to block the claw, only to have me flying across the area, smashing over the pointing rocks. The rocks may have not been able to spear me, but the crystals have. I lay limp on my back, making no more sort of movement that would cause my thigh, rear, and shoulder to bleed more.

The beast snarls with a tint of satisfaction as it approaches, showing how it has prevailed over a human who's also one of its kind. The ability to move dwindles. It's the crystals' fault. But I refuse to greet my demise in a situation as such, so I crawl. I would rather have accepted my own death in the hands of Ordinal Twelve, or much better, in the presence of Three back at the citadel. The sword is a few meters ahead, an extra boost of Hellion strength would be helpful now, but the impaled crystals seem to have rendered it.

I've been in this similar moment before — greeting death. Is this how I really die for real? The opportunity is now very open for the creature to end me, where it's ambling close. I halt my movement, preparing to embrace my end with my eyes just resting on it.

Out of nowhere, another large creature pounces on the Hellion from the side. My auditory is the only thing active, capturing the clashing roars and heavy sounds echoing within the cave walls. My eyes are still active and I'm able to slowly turn my head to see the Hellion in a brawl with my Lion-Boar companion. She found me… And if so, then…

I'm not able to finish the thought as I see bare feet dash past me, retrieving the blade that is so close yet so far from my reach. I hear the hellion's last cry before it gets cut off along with a whir of a blade. Now is not the time to be disappointed with the stolen opportunity. I'm starting to succumb to my open wounds as my bleeding remains constantly dripping like an open faucet. I manage to be on my back, moaning in utter horror. My vision starts distorting but does not warn of me losing consciousness. I fight it by blinking multiple times. My instinct is preventing me from dying like this, and I agree.

I'm still able to make out the familiar face of the man entering my peripheral—the same gaze that I first saw of him the day he pulled me from the river. He…he found me…he saved my life again. The concern is prominent through his ocean gaze, and I can't help but feel… relieved… and safe rather than being bothered by his Wolf-breed nature that his predatory instincts might take over due to the presence of fresh blood.

"Stay awake," I hear him muffle through my ringing ears as his hand finds its way beneath my cheek. "We need to get you out of here."

I nod lightly and he wastes no second to carefully make my arm slither over his bare shoulders and his strength doesn't fail to lift me, his own hand supporting my waist, avoiding making contact with the impaled object. He holds the sword, but he holds me closer.

Blood still trickles from my wounds to my still slick clothes, some droplets leaving trails down the cave floor. But it doesn't bother him having his bare frame and the pants that he lent me that he now wears be stained. Mounting me to my lion-boar companion wouldn't be convenient as her recent wounds are still fresh. I return my gaze at him, catching his own on me as well.

"You went on your own again," He says, looking back ahead.

"I know," I say, too drained to even argue. "Thank you." I fall again, almost slipping off his hold. This forces him to fully lift me in his arms. I don't know how he's able to do it while holding a weapon, but it's working. He's quick on his barefoot steps, showing how desperate he is to get me out of here. I only save my breaths and make no other subtle movements while my eyes rest on his facade, thinking of nothing else but him.

Not for long, we meet the outside world once more, and I sense it's a different exit. I'm lucky enough to see another day — unless it's my last. The late afternoon light stings my eyes after being too exposed to the darkness of the deep caverns. As we step close to the edge of the cave, I see his expression shift into utter shock. I force my head to shift where he is looking and ahead is the familiar figure of the clad in dark-blue armor Ordinal Twenty-One.