Whispers of the Water

A fish resembling a moray eel lunged at me, teeth bared in an attempt to rip away my scales. I twisted my massive body to evade the strike and lashed out with my tail in the same fluid motion. The explosive power surging from every muscle into that single blow shattered the monster's skull to pieces.

It had been roughly a week since I awakened my Water Resonance. In that time I had focused on nurturing the ability while methodically eliminating the whale's minions that continued to throw themselves at me.

I must have taken down more than fifty by now.

The whale's underlings had assaulted me in a myriad of forms over the past seven days. It only made sense, given how distinctly each creature differed from the last. The one I had just killed possessed a double-layered jaw like a moray, while an earlier attacker had been a flying fish with small wings. Nor were they limited to piscine shapes—some came at me in the forms of other marine life entirely.

A ray, was it?

The whale's servants were so varied that finding common ground between them seemed impossible at first. Yet if I observed them from a distance, ignoring their individual forms, two shared traits became obvious: crimson eyes and enormous bodies.

The red eyes were a consistent feature among anything that served the whale. Whether the dull gaze of a fish or the enigmatic stare of a ray, every one of them glowed with that same scarlet light. It might have been more accurate to call it a red glare rather than eyes at all. The second commonality was their gigantic size. Morays, rays, tuna, flying fish—every creature was several times larger than its natural counterpart. Considering how easily my eighty-meter form had crushed a flying fish in my grasp, the scale was understandable. I had yet to encounter anything exceeding ten meters, but I suspected that would change once my territory expanded or their attacks grew more frequent.

That was why I had devoted myself to developing and utilizing my Water Resonance—to counter them effectively. I listened closely to the occasional voices of the water and strove to fulfill their wishes. At the same time, I recalled my human days and practiced meditation to strengthen my mental power. Through all these efforts, I achieved my first meaningful result.

The Mental World.

When I blocked my five senses to awaken Water Resonance, I had opened my eyes within a dark realm. That space contained absolutely nothing. All directions were pitch black, as though my eyes were closed. My ears felt muffled, the way they did underwater. With even my sense of touch dulled, I felt as if I were drifting through the void of space.

Yet it was not merely an oppressive emptiness. When I resonated with water, ripples spread across the world as though a droplet had fallen into it. In those moments I could hear the clear sound of water falling, feel the waves, and sense its cool touch. I named this place the Mental World.

The Mental World increased my mental strength and allowed me to manipulate water far more efficiently. Consider driving: in reality, one must constantly account for surrounding vehicles, traffic signals, pedestrians, and countless other variables. But in a racing game designed purely for competition, all those distractions vanish, leaving only the act of driving itself. The Mental World transformed the former experience into the latter. Using my abilities within it proved far more effective than invoking them after merely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hearing the water's voice.

That doesn't mean I can use it in actual combat, though.

Since entering the Mental World required cutting off my five senses, it left me vulnerable to external attacks. Therefore, I used it solely for training. When facing the whale's minions, I relied on different methods.

Focusing on close-quarters combat was the right choice in many ways.

Right after awakening Water Resonance, I had tried to handle them using only that ability. But as time passed, I realized I possessed a far more effective weapon: my own body. My eighty-meter frame was more than ten times larger than even the abnormally enlarged creatures. Was my great size matched by sluggishness? Not at all. The Azure Dragon's physique was perfectly structured for swimming. Given that dragons naturally moved between sky and sea, such a body was only to be expected. Moreover, by synchronizing with water through resonance, my speed became utterly overwhelming.

From the enemy's perspective, my body should have been fragile enough to kill in a single blow. Yet my deep-blue scales and silver claws crushed any such hope. Once, while fighting them, I accidentally struck a reef with my tail. Rather than injuring me, the reef exploded into dust that clouded the surrounding waters. Even when toothed creatures tried to bite me, their fangs simply broke while my scales remained untouched and I felt no pain. As for my claws… there was nothing they could not destroy or sever.

In the end, the ability I could consider truly perfected at this stage was my physical prowess. Rather than directly commanding water as a weapon, I began using it to assist my movements, much like synchronizing with the current while swimming.

It places far less strain on me this way, which is nice.

Of course, I would eventually learn to fight them using only the power of water. For now, however, I intended to continue employing it as physical support.

In truth, I could have wiped out the whale's entire pod without going through all this trouble. After all, dragons possess an absurdly powerful artifact.

Yeouiju.

Yet for some reason, I did not have it.

Where could my Yeouiju be?

After falling from the sky into the sea and establishing my identity as the Azure Dragon, the first question that arose was about the Yeouiju. No matter how I searched the surroundings, I found nothing resembling it. Fearing I might have dropped it during the fall, I scoured the nearby waters, but there was no sign of the orb—or even anything that looked like a bead.

After several days of fruitless searching, I gave up on the Yeouiju. Come to think of it, too many mysteries had to be solved before I could even begin to trace its whereabouts: the connection between the Azure Dragon and myself, the reason for my fall, and so on. Without my previous memories, it was only natural that I would have to abandon the Yeouiju as well.

They say a dragon that loses its Yeouiju reverts to being an Imugi… but that didn't happen to me.

Information I had learned while looking for things to tease my friend remained in my mind. Compared to that knowledge, I was maintaining a clear draconic form despite lacking a Yeouiju. Unlike the dragons in legends who became powerless without one, I could still use draconic abilities, albeit weakly. In my current situation, the latter option—which still held room for growth—was far more advantageous than the former. Moreover, legends spoke of Imugis possessing multiple Yeouijus, leaving a faint hope that I might one day reclaim one. I was not overly disheartened.

I lowered my head to look at my foreclaw. Normally I should have been holding a Yeouiju in this claw or carrying it in my mouth. Yet because I had never possessed one from the beginning, I felt no sense of absence. On the contrary, a fierce ambition arose within me: even if I never obtained a Yeouiju, I would fully awaken all the powers of a dragon.

Becoming the Azure Dragon in the first place was hardly ordinary, so perhaps my case is different.

That was my current thinking. If I simply lived and handled my own affairs, I would eventually stumble upon some clue regarding the Yeouiju.

Just as I was about to sink back into the Mental World, a sudden voice of the water rang out.

Danger?

I immediately assumed a combat stance at the water's urgent warning. Could the whale's pod be launching an attack? The sea that usually only spoke of wanting waves or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠whirlpools would not issue such a dire alert without reason.

That direction seems quiet, though…

The deep-sea region where the whale lurked showed no disturbance. Given that the creature was likely over a hundred meters long, any movement on its part would surely stir the waters. I discarded the idea of an incoming assault and focused more intently on the water's voice. Only then ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did I realize the currents were directing my attention not toward the deep sea, but toward the coastal shallows.

I let the flow carry me and swam swiftly. The seabed grew closer—territory I had largely ignored while dealing with the whale's forces.

To be honest, I would have preferred to come later.

Still, I could not ignore the water's frantic agitation. As I approached the shore and reached the towering cliffs, I scanned the area for the danger the water had mentioned.

Nothing.

There was no presence that could threaten me the way the whale's minions did. But at that moment, the water suddenly erupted in commotion.

The reactions were so loud and numerous that I wondered if the water had always been this talkative. At the same moment, fragments of stone tumbled from the cliff and splashed into the sea before me. I instinctively looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up and saw a child falling from the precipice.

The child descended slowly, eyes locked with mine as the distance to the water closed. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had already manipulated the currents to catch the falling child. It all happened in an instant.