NOVEL NEXT Chapter 257: Leviathan (5) Part 2
Thanks to his regenerative power, Thalion's body had fully healed. Now he just needed to recover his mana. He cut back on his mana usage, allowing only a few illusory flames—especially those between him and the leviathan—to remain, obscuring the beast's line of sight.
The leviathan, wounded but unrelenting, retaliated with a new ability. Four of its tentacles coiled around individually selected targets and fired concentrated beams of water from their tips. One beam caught a fishfolk cleanly, carving away half their body. The rest scattered, barely evading the deadly lasers. But even with death looming over them, they fought on, darting in and out with reckless determination, launching spear after spear.
The leviathan, blood dripping from its cracked head, continued casting tentacle-enhanced spells, now more defensive in nature as it protected its skull. By the time Thalion's mana climbed back to thirty percent, only two fishfolk remained. The rest had been torn apart or consumed.
It was time to end it.
Thalion surged forward, charging another Aqua Lance as he ascended toward the leviathan. Reaching a point just above the beast's wounded head, he released the lance. Aimed precisely at the exposed bone. The leviathan saw him coming and raised a tentacle to block the strike. But the defense crumbled instantly, and the lance struck true. The creature screeched in agony, writhing in the water as it lost all coordination.
It thrashed wildly, unable to control its movement, its tentacles limp and erratic. Thalion's danger sense—sharpened by his title—did not signal a trap. This was no ruse. The leviathan was dying.
But first, he had to deal with the remaining two fishfolk.
Blinded by rage and grief, they charged at the leviathan, oblivious to the world around them. Thalion followed silently, and with a swift flick of his tail unleashed a Water Slash, that cleaved both in half. Without pausing, he fired a Aqua Lance and sent it plunging into the leviathan's skull.
The beast resisted with everything it had, but its body could no longer obey. The energies swirling within it were in chaos, and Thalion's attack dug deep, shattering the last barrier between life and death. The leviathan let out one final convulsion before going still.
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Thalion hovered, panting, eyes locked on the system notification that confirmed the kill. A wave of relief flooded him. Without wasting time, he dove toward the massive corpse, ready to claim its form. This battle had gone far better than expected. Had the fishfolk retreated earlier, he might've abandoned the fight after stealing the crystal. Now, he had both: the beast and the colossal crystal.
His experience bar was nearly full. Level 78 was within reach. Just a few more kills, and he would level up. Only two more levels to break free from the curse embedded in his title. According to the system, the journey would remain tougher than others', but nowhere near the suffering of F-rank. That was fine by him. The title had brought him this far. It was more than worth the struggle.
Eagerly, Thalion nudged the leviathan's body to trigger the transformation and take its form.
Nothing happened.
He blinked, confused. Again, he focused. Again, nothing. No response, no notification—only the dead weight of the leviathan beneath him. He tried a third time. A fourth. A twentieth. Still nothing.
Frustration rose. The skill's power was surging through the leviathan's corpse, but it refused to activate. Thalion growled under his breath. So he couldn't take its form after all. That put a damper on the victory. Still, not all was lost. His Aqua Lance had evolved in the heat of battle, increasing in rarity. It was now a Mythic-grade skill. No new description had appeared, but Thalion wasn't surprised. The system often operated in mysterious, frustrating ways.
With no form to claim, he stored the leviathan's enormous body in his spatial ring. He'd revisit the tentacles later—study the runes etched into them, perhaps find a way to replicate or reforge them.
Sighing, Thalion turned from the chamber and swam in the direction of the last pillar. There were still fishfolk to deal with. After what he had seen, he had no illusions about defeating them easily as Tidecaller Serpent. His strength lay in single, overwhelming strikes—not in battling nimble swarms that could kill with a single blow.
Still, he would try. If that failed, he'd regroup with the others and kick in the front door himself. It would bring complications—Kael, the elves, the politics—but at this point, there was no choice. The clock was ticking.