Arthur screamed.
It wasn't a human sound.
It was raw—ripped from the very pit of his soul. Pain unlike anything he'd ever known exploded through his chest as the blade was yanked free. He crumpled to his knees, the world tilting violently beneath him. His hands scrambled to clutch the gaping wound, but blood oozed past his fingers in sick, warm streams.
Every breath burned. Every heartbeat thundered against the inside of his skull.
No... no... this can't be real—
His fingers slipped in the blood slick on the deck. His vision blurred, edges bleeding into shadows and light. The salt of the sea stung in his lungs, but all he could taste was iron.
In front of him, the four cultivators stood in a line. Untouched. Untouched and grinning.
Jhen was the first to move.
He gave a mocking stretch, cracking his knuckles as he walked forward with slow, deliberate steps. "Ah... finally."
His boot landed beside Aithur's face. "Do you know how long I've wanted to shut you up?"
Arthur spat blood and lifted his head weakly, glaring.
"Still have that look in your eyes, huh?" Jhen's grin twisted as he raised a fist—and punched Aithur hard across the jaw.
The impact rang out. Arthur's body skidded across the rain-slick deck until he hit the edge with a sickening thud. He coughed. Blood speckled the planks. The ocean below sloshed gently, almost mockingly.
"I hated that smug little smirk of yours," Jhen said, crouching, his voice lower now, poisonous. "The way you act like you're better. Always talking back. Always standing tall like you're some kind of saint."
He slammed his fist into Aithur's stomach again. The young man gasped and folded forward, wheezing.
"If it weren't for the mission," Jhen hissed, "I would've already cut off your head and stuck your corpse on a pole outside the sect gates. Let it rot in the wind like the warning it should've been."
He stood, breathing heavily. Cruelty danced in his eyes.
Hian, silent till now, gave a lazy chuckle. "He's not worth wasting your breath on."
He knelt near Aithur and reached into his robes. With a fluid motion, he pulled out the whale beast's pearl, still glowing faintly. He let it roll in his hand, marveling.
"All that fuss… for this." He turned to Arthur with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But thank you for leading us to it. You were... useful. For once."
The twins finally moved. They stepped out from the shadows cast by the mast, white robes tattered and stained from the earlier battle. As they neared, they pulled the bands from their hair, letting it fall freely around their faces. Their forms shimmered—and shifted. Illusions melting away.
Arthur blinked through the blood.
They were girls.
Their bodies, once hidden behind loose robes and boyish illusions, now revealed elegant curves and razor-sharp grace. Their hair fell in long, inky strands, and their tattered white clothing had darkened into ominous black—soot-slicked and clinging like shadows.
The first twin giggled, crouching beside Aithur and grabbing a strand of his blood-matted hair. "He really is quite pretty. It would've been such a waste to kill him so fast."
She ran a fingertip along his cheek, leaving a smear of red. "Can we keep him, Hian? Please? I'll turn him into a doll. Make his smile permanent."
The second twin joined in, leaning close. Her voice was soft and sing-song. "Or I could use his skin. It looks soft. Like velvet. Would make a lovely foot warmer."
Arthur gagged, weakly trying to move away. His limbs refused to obey.
"Enough," Hian snapped, not even glancing at them. "We have one mission. And dragging along a bleeding corpse will only slow us down."
He stood up, brushing off his robes with disgust, then tore the Azura Sect insignia from his chest and threw it onto the deck.
"I can finally breathe," he said, smirking. "Smiling like those do-gooders every day... pretending to be one of them... It was disgusting."
He turned toward the sea, lifting the pearl slightly.
"All that acting. All that pretending. But it was worth it."
Arthur trembled, rage and pain swirling inside him like a storm. His body was numb, but his ears still worked—and every word felt like a knife in his spine.
Pretending...?
They disguised themselves as the Azura Sect members... for this?
All of it... lies?
Jhen raised his blade.
"Want me to do it now?"
Hian gave a small nod. "Make it quick."
Arthur's mind spun.
No...
No. No. NO—!
Something ignited inside him.
He forced one foot underneath himself. The world swayed. His lungs wheezed. Blood spilled from the corners of his mouth like wine from a broken cup.
Then the other foot.
His entire body shook like a leaf.
But he stood.
Jhen paused, brows furrowing. "Huh?"
Arthur raised his head. His gaze—burning. Bleeding. Defiant.
Even dying, he glared with the intensity of a beast.
Hian laughed. "Now that... that's a good look."
But Arthur didn't speak.
Instead, he took one staggering step back.
Then another.
The cultivators watched in silence.
"He's trying to throw himself off the edge?" the first twin asked, raising a brow.
But then—
Arthur charged.
With a roar that defied the very pain that anchored him, he lunged forward with all the speed he could muster, crashing into Hian and ripping the pearl from his grasp.
"What—?!"
And without hesitation—Aithur dived.
"NO!" Hian shouted, running after him, but it was too late.
Arthur's body arched through the air like a dying comet before it plunged into the ocean below.
"I'd rather DIE than let you bastards have it!" Arthur screamed before vanishing beneath the waves.
The sea swallowed him whole.
Hian prepared to dive in, fury twisting his face—
But the sea stirred.
A deep vibration rolled through the air. The water cracked. Then—
A monstrous crab, larger than the boat itself, erupted from the depths. Its armored claw slammed onto the deck, shattering planks as it let out a screeching roar.
"Shit—ANOTHER ONE?!" Jhen yelled, stumbling back.
Hian cursed, eyes still fixed on the spot where Aithur vanished.
"Forget him!" the second twin shrieked, dodging the falling mast. "We can't fight that thing right now!"
"RETREAT!" Hian bellowed.
They took to the skies, fleeing as the crab demolished what remained of the boat.
Below.
Silence.
Arthur sank.
The water was colder than death.
The pain had dulled now—faded into a quiet numbness that felt almost... comforting.
His limbs dangled. Blood drifted upward like delicate red ribbons. He could see the moon above, pale and distant.
His eyelids drooped.
I'm... so tired.
Everything hurts. So much.
But... at least... they didn't win.
He looked at the pearl in his hand. Even as his thoughts dulled, he held onto it. Its faint glow pulsed steadily. Comforting.
Even if I die here...
They won't get it.
A long exhale left him. His chest didn't rise again.
Maybe this isn't so bad...
Just... rest.
His thoughts slowed to a crawl, like leaves drifting downstream.
I'll sleep.
I'll sleep now...
Then—
The pearl pulsed.
A voice whispered in amusement.
"Interesting."