Crowman
In the southwest of the continent, a deep valley connected to the sea. This is the treacherous terrain known as Death Call Strait.
Lush greenery cloaks the top, but sheer cliffs plunge straight down below, giving way to a churning sea battered by savage waves.
Swain's party was venturing toward the legend of the ice slumbering in a deep cave beneath these cliffs.
Unmelting ice. The mythical substance said to withstand any flame. With it, they could quench the massive blaze ravaging their home in the Northern Mountains.
"Prepare the ropes."
At Swain's order, a dozen men pulled bundles of rope from their packs. Toughened by long salting, knotted thickly for easy gripping.
The ropes soon dangled toward the cliffs below.
"Hold tight on the way down, Cliche."
Roin patted Cliche's shoulder. He flashed a grin and nodded.
'Whoa!'
She blushed at his dazzling smile without realizing it. What boy is that pretty?
"You really human?"
Too pretty—it kept sparking ridiculous doubts. At her question, Cliche shook his head like it was obvious.
"Nah, dragon."
"Enough nonsense. Let's go."
Swain shoved Roin toward the cliff, snapping her out of it.
Soon, the group began descending slowly, gripping the ropes.
"Holding up, Dexter old-timer?"
"Heh heh, age catches up—grip's not what it used to be. But managing."
Swain braced Dexter's shoulder now and then as they rappelled down.
Finally,
"Rocky shallows down here!"
Swain, first to the bottom, bellowed.
It took a good while for everyone to descend. But not a single slip or fall. These were hardy folks who'd trekked far.
Crash! Waves shattered white against the rocks. Beyond lay seaweed-choked reefs.
"There!"
Sharp-eyed Roin jabbed a finger and yelled. Amid the limp seaweed, something black loomed.
The cave.
"Whoa! A real cave!"
"Legend's legit!"
After all their trials, joy erupted.
"Stay calm—now's when you need it most."
Swain steadied them and took point. With astonishing leaps, he bounded reef to reef, extending the rope.
"Swain handles mana. Our village's best hunter."
Roin puffed her chest proudly. Cliche nodded with a bored face.
Soon, they reached the cave mouth.
This massive sea-carved cavern seemed cut off from the outside save for the crashing waves. Seawater pooled waist-deep in the dim interior.
Whoosh! Swain wrapped oil-soaked cloth around a thick stake and lit it, flooding the front with light.
"Ugh, water's freezing—gives me the creeps!"
Roin splashed through water up to her chest, laughing.
Flutter! The light scattered green bats fleeing outward.
Bats nesting meant no full floods to the ceiling. A small relief.
They filed in single line, probing deeper slowly.
Then.
"Hold!"
Swain raised a hand, signaling the followers to halt.
The sizzling torch pierced ahead. Darkness peeled back, revealing a massive shape plastered to the wall.
"Eek!?"
Roin gasped involuntarily. Cliche's eyes went wide.
"Crab?"
A man-sized crab clung to the wall, foaming at the mouth, claws raised high.
"Hmph."
Swain drew his axe from his belt.
Sss... A faint energy wisped up the blade. It glowed bluish-hot in an instant.
This was mana.
Thwack! The swing pulverized the crab's thick shell.
Splash! Splash! Transparent guts sprayed everywhere.
"Slap this between bread for a burger—bet it'd be tasty."
Roin smacked her lips at the floating chunks. Her cheer had everyone roaring with laughter, fear forgotten.
The mood brightened—
"......!"
Then Dexter halted abruptly. Swain's face hardened.
Chilly air wafted from ahead.
"It's fine. Hands beat eyes!"
Swain gripped his axe and charged.
That instant.
"Gah!?"
Swain and all gasped at the torchlight's reveal. No mere crab this time.
A skeleton. Human, trapped in transparent ice.
"Th-this the unmelting ice?"
Roin stammered, stunned.
But no. Swain held the torch close; the ice encasing the bones melted slowly.
Just frost from the cold.
"Someone after the unmelting ice?"
Roin shivered as she asked. All swallowed hard.
"We could end up like that."
Cliche piped up bluntly, flaunting his sharp logic.
"......"
The air turned frigid.
"Keep thoughts like that to yourself."
Roin jabbed his cheek in reprimand.
Right then.
Splash! Water churned from the dark ahead. Something diving in.
Swain tensed. "Who's there!?"
He swung the torch; something deep in the cave emerged.
"Huh? Mermaid?"
Swain's eyes bulged. The seafarer legend, here!
Today's shocks piled up.
But the mermaid differed from tales. Human body, fish head.
"...Something's off. Kinda gross."
Roin wrinkled her nose. And male.
Beard, fins, bits dangling, it opened its mouth.
"Argh! Humans! What business? Argh!"
Incredible—a mermaid speaking human tongue!
Swain, thinking communication possible, asked haltingly.
"We're after unmelting ice."
"Argh! I know it! Know where. Argh!"
"C-could you guide us?"
The mermaid nodded eagerly.
"Argh! I guide!"
Faces lit up. No fight with the freak—just luck.
But.
Exactly three seconds later.
The leading mermaid whirled, startled. "Argh!? Who you!?"
"......?"
"Argh! How'd you get close! Argh! Intruders!"
Out of sight three seconds, memory wiped.
Swain snapped irritably. "What halfwit carp-head? Where's your mom?"
Boy-sized, after all.
But at the parental slight, it hopped mad.
"Argh! Insult parents fine, but me? No! Argh!"
It bounced a bit, then whistled deep into the cave.
Cave quaked.
Crash! Massive wave. Something barreled toward them at speed.
To the panicking group, Swain boasted confidently.
"Don't worry—if the kid's that size, mom won't be much..."
His words died.
"Ugh, who touched my daughter."
A monster filled the cave before them. Human body, fish head—nearly six meters tall.
"M-merking? Nah, Merdos fits better?"
They trembled but clung to hope: Swain.
"My daughter, you bastard!"
Swain mana-wreathed his axe, swung with all might.
Crash! But the king was seasoned. Ladle-sized palm slapped the surface, birthing a wave that toppled Swain's balance.
"Pfbt!?"
Mountain-born Swain was green in such terrain.
Whoosh! The king rocketed up in killer leap.
Bam! Swain flew into the wall.
"Urk!?"
Hot blood surged. Organs bruised.
"Ugh-ugh-ugh. Heh-heh-heh."
Chant and laugh distinct.
"Begone, humans. Ugh."
No intent to kill. But no passage either.
"Nngh! Village on the line! Can't back down!"
Swain reached for axe—sunk in churning water.
No aid possible amid the turmoil.
Then.
Crack.
"Ugh?"
King released Swain's neck, head cocked.
Then.
Slash! Blue blood fountained from its neck.
Sploosh. It dropped Swain and sank limply.
"...Huh?"
Swain gawked at the sudden turn.
A flying slash had beheaded the king just before it crushed him. Who in this cave could one-shot such a beast?
Only a Sword Master. One who condenses mana to the limit into aura, transcending human limits.
Air-slashing impossible without that realm.
As confusion reigned,
"Can't even guide straight, you morons."
A deep, settling voice cut through.
The black-hooded figure stepped forward. Dexter the elder. In hand, a bisected staff—a sword.
Hidden blade gleamed coldly over rippling water.
Swain stared, trembling.
Dexter wasn't an original party member. A traveler who'd joined midway.
"Wh-who are you?"
Swain stammered.
Dexter chuckled, doffing the hood.
"Used my name all this time and don't know me?"
One eye. Slicked-back white hair. Long scar across the nose bridge.
Swain blanched at the first sight of Dexter's face.
Midland's killer, Crowman!
He was here.