“So,” Fianna asked, “what do I need to do exactly, Master?”

  “It’s simple,” Viktor replied, handing her a small, round object with a faint star symbol etched into its surface. “All you have to do is hold this, and get as close as possible to the intruder.”

  The mermaid nodded. “I see. Does it matter where I keep it?”

  “No.”

  “In that case...” Fianna slipped the orb into her mouth, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she slowly swallowed it. “This way, I won’t have to worry about losing it.”

  Viktor furrowed his brow. There wouldn’t be much of her left after this. Well, at least it would be quick and painless.

  The mermaid was grinning at him, acting as carefree as ever, as if the earlier dreadful conversation had never taken pce. She had accepted her fate, and now she put on the mask of cheerfulness to ward off the fear, so that she could press on with her mission without any hesitation.

  It was convenient for him, wasn’t it? This was exactly the outcome he had hoped for. She was just a tool, a pawn, a minion that cost him a little more than 66 mana to summon. Sacrificing her to eliminate a powerful enemy like Bjorn was an acceptable, no, a very good trade.

  “Do you have any requests?” Viktor asked.

  “Well, let’s see...” Fianna gnced upward, tilting her head as she took a moment to think. Then, she giggled. “Ah, I know. Can I pat your head now, Master?”

  “...”

  He stared at the mermaid, who was slightly leaning forward, her mischievous gaze still locked on him, as though waiting for him to comply. With a resigned sigh, he lowered his head.

  Without missing a beat, she pced her hand on top of his head, gently brushing her fingers against his hair as if she were comforting a child. “There, there,” she cooed. “Good boy, good boy.”

  I’m not a kid. I am your master.

  “It’s a shame I won’t be here to see you grow up, but it can’t be helped. Just promise me you’ll take good care of yourself, alright?”

  I know how to take care of myself. I don’t need you to tell me.

  “I still think that being cynical doesn’t suit you. You’d be way cuter if you lightened up a bit.”

  Just go already, you stupid mermaid.

  Fianna withdrew her hand, and he lifted his head. “Goodbye, Master,” she said with a sad smile, before she turned and slipped into the water. In the next moment, she was gone, as though she had never been there at all.

  Now is not the time for sentiment, Viktor thought as he unched his vision forward to follow the mermaid. She was swimming underwater, racing toward the camitous dance between moons and comets.

  “Celeste,” he called the Dungeon Core. “When Fianna got close enough, order Sebekton to retreat immediately. And tell him, and everyone else, to get as far as possible from the intruder.”

  [Understood.]

  Fianna glided through the water with speed and grace, like a true daughter of the ocean. Before her, the sea churned and twisted, fshing at intervals with the collisions between crescent moons and cold spear-tips. The battle had been raging on for a while. But now, it had stopped. Sebekton had received the command and was about to leave. Bjorn was dumbfounded, unable to comprehend why his opponent had suddenly withdrawn. Then, his gaze shifted to the lone mermaid who was streaking through the water toward him like an arrow.

  The Northman conjured an ice nce and hurled it at Fianna. However, the elusive mermaid’s mastery over the currents had granted her an agility beyond any anticipation. She moved like a shadow, her form dancing in and out of sight, faster than Bjorn could possibly track. Then, she veered toward the warrior. Out of nowhere, a trident made of coral appeared in her hand, aimed straight at his head.

  The sword of light swung in a wide arc of radiance, cleaving the trident in two with ease. But before that dazzling bde could reach Fianna, Viktor detonated the bomb.

  The mermaid’s body contorted. It was hard to make out her final expression. Was it a serene acceptance, or a knowing grimace? It mattered not. She disintegrated in a cloud of red. Nothing remained but a severed tail sinking to the depths.

  What was more important was the fate of his formidable opponent.

  Bjorn’s body stiffened, his deadly bde slipping from his grip, its glow snuffing out as it spiraled into the murk. The warrior’s eyes bulged, veins rupturing across the whites. His mouth gaped, but no scream emerged. He sank slowly, limbs drifting as limp as withered seaweed. Thin tendrils of red curled upward from his nose and ears, bubbles streaming from his lips, each bursting into a tiny cloud of pink.

  The Northman had suffered some superficial external injuries due to getting hit by the debris, but those were not what killed him.

  Viktor had witnessed the devastating effect of an underwater detonation firsthand when Alycia tossed one of her firebombs into the water during her party’s assault of the dungeon. His froglings had been ripped apart, while the merfolk floated motionless on the surface, their internal organs ravaged by the bst.

  After the battle, he had dissected their corpses to assess the damage, so he knew exactly what had happened to Bjorn’s body. His lung had been crushed, air sacs burst and filled with blood, while tiny air bubbles from his shredded lungs shot into his heart, clogging its blood vessels. His liver, spleen, and kidneys had exploded, flooding his body with toxins. His stomach tore open after being smmed against his spine, spilling acid and half-digested food into his belly. His intestines twisted and split, leaking their putrid contents everywhere. Even his brain was not spared, bleeding and swelling from the trauma and ruptured tissue.

  In other words, there was no one thing that had killed him. He died because everything broke at once. His lungs couldn’t breathe, his heart couldn’t beat, and his brain couldn’t think. That body was now nothing more than a sack of blood, shit, and poison.

  This noon, after Viktor had concluded that the Dungeon Reavers’ invasion was imminent, his mind immediately ran through multiple simuted scenarios. The Acolytes of the Deep and their tentacles were his dungeon’s best line of defense, yes, but what if one of the intruders was exceptionally good at fighting underwater? Of course, he couldn’t rule out that possibility, because that was exactly what he did back when he himself was an adventurer. Nevertheless, the real question was: what could he do to deal with it? He then recalled the fight with Manfred’s party. What he had used could be used against him, yes, but the opposite was also true. So he rushed back to Alycia’s shop, and when the woman wasn’t paying attention, he stole one of her firebombs along with its detonator.

  He saw Sebekton rise from the water’s surface, his towering form struggling through the crashing waves as he attempted to walk toward him. There were no visible injuries, but his slow movements and ragged breaths made it clear that the battle had taken its toll. Even his reptilian eyes, once burning with the murderous intent of a predator, now looked tired.

  The Crocodilian spat out a mouthful of blood onto the water before stepping into the sand. “Master,” he said, his voice hoarse and strained, “What the hell... is that?”

  “Something dreadful,” Viktor replied.

  “Did it kill the intruder?”

  “Yes. And it seems even you were affected as well, despite the distance.”

  Sebekton nodded. “Aye, for a moment I thought that I couldn’t breathe. And I might have sunk if not for this fellow.” He turned and gestured at a figure in a drenched robe behind him. The Acolyte had been blocked from view by the Guardian’s massive body, so Viktor hadn’t noticed him until now.

  The mutant mage bowed deeply. “Master.”

  “Orloth, isn’t it?”

  The mutant blinked his pitch-bck eyes in surprise. “You remember me?”

  “I remember everyone who left an impression,” Viktor replied. While the Acolytes of the Deep might look identical at first gnce, there were enough distinguishing features to tell them apart. Of course, he was not going to remember all of them, but at the very least, he would do with the one he had shared a long conversation.

  “That was my old name though,” the Acolyte said. “The name I’ve abandoned, after I chose to serve the Great One.”

  “Did your god give you a new name?”

  He shook his head. “No, Master.”

  “Then how did he address you all?” Viktor chuckled. “Acolyte One and Acolyte Two?”

  “Well, there was no need for that. Through His Prophets, He could speak to each of us directly in our minds, instructing us on what must be done.”

  “That’s a good trick, but I can’t do that. So, how can I call you?”

  “Orloth will do, Master.”

  “Orloth,” Viktor said. “It’s good to see you survive the battle.”

  “I’m just lucky. Many others... are not.” The Acolyte gnced back at the water. “That mermaid... She was the one with you when you summoned me, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was very brave.”

  “Yes.”

  “She sacrificed her own life in order to bring down that intruder,” Orloth murmured, looking down on the sand. “Not many people could do the same. I probably couldn’t. You may give the order, and I might obey. But I have no idea what I would do in the final moment. After all, I am someone who has abandoned his humanity to save his own skin.” He turned to the waves again. “She was the epitome of loyalty, serving her master with utmost devotion. I admire her... and envy her.”

  No, that’s not it, Viktor thought. Fianna sacrificed herself because he had pced her in a position where she couldn’t say no. Yet, she bore him no resentment. In fact, she was sad that they would never meet again.

  He turned to his Guardian, to distract himself from the lingering thoughts of the ill-fated woman. “Sorry, Sebekton, for interrupting your duel like that.”

  The Crocodilian guffawed. “What are you talking about, Master? I would’ve probably lost if the fight had continued. If anything...” He scratched his broad head. “My ck of ability to handle the intruder on my own was what had forced you to take action. It was my fault that—”

  “It was not your fault,” Viktor cut him off. Then he said, “Gentlemen, thank you for your efforts in the battle. It’s because of you that we’ve emerged victorious. You’re dismissed. Now take some time to rest.”

  His two servants bowed to him. He gave them a nod, then turned back to the Core Room.