The creature, which had been feasting on the soft, defenseless prey from outside, suddenly realized something. Some of the prey had managed to escape. It vaguely remembered that they shouldn’t have been able to leave, but now, as if some restriction had been lifted, the survivors had all fled at once. Yet, it was unconcerned. The restrictions that had kept them penned in were gone now. It would finish off the remaining prey, and when the time came, it would track down the rest. This thought filled the beast with simple happiness. Baker spoke, dismissing the earlier topic with a casual shake of his head. “Maybe you’re just imagining things. Animals that are scared out of their wits tend to thrash around even more wildly. That’s probably all it is.” “Maybe you’re right. I’m still inexperienced. I probably misread what I sensed.” Aquaz nodded in agreement, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in her eyes. She let out a small sigh, then looked to Ketal. “Are you alright?” Ketal nodded with a curious expression, as if lost in thought. Without further delay, Aquaz raised her hand, conjured a spear of radiant light, and drove it through the ape’s chest. A thick spurt of red blood floated in the water. The ape, its chest pierced, convulsed and fought, but its movements grew weaker and weaker until, at last, it went still. Aquaz glanced down at the corpse and shook her hand to dry it. Then, she drew a short dagger. “I’ll begin the dissection. If any of you are squeamish, you might want to step out of the pillar of light.” An hour later, Aquaz emerged from the pillar, wiping her hands. “The physical structure is nearly identical to that of a land-dwelling ape,” she reported. “There are hardly any differences.” Baker frowned, clearly struggling to believe it. “But... how does it breathe underwater?” “That, I can’t explain,” Aquaz admitted, her brow furrowing. “Maybe their lungs have some other function? I’m not an expert on anatomy, so I can’t say for sure.” But in the end, that didn’t matter much. What was important was that the weak spots of these apes—their vital points—were no different from those of a normal ape. “There are about forty of them in total,” Aquaz continued, summarizing the findings. “They’re capable of sudden bursts of strength. But the basic vital points are the same as those on land. Their bodies can be pierced if an Awakened puts in enough power.” She nodded, the decision settling in her mind. “In short, it’s possible.” At that, Kukulitan’s face lit up, bright with hope. He couldn’t help but ask, voice trembling with excitement, “Does that mean... you can actually handle these apes?” “That’s a relief! Thank you! Should I send for outside help? How soon can we get support from the surface?” Kukulitan pressed. Behind Aquaz and Baker stood the power of the Sun Church and the Mage Tower. If they could call for reinforcements, the outcome would surely change. But Aquaz shook her head. “No. We don’t need any outside help.” Kukulitan stared in disbelief. “Sorry...?” “We can handle this with just the three of us,” Aquaz replied calmly. “I was worried since they’re creatures from the Demon Realm, but they aren’t as formidable as I feared.” Kukulitan blinked, stunned. “Just... the three of you? You don’t need reinforcements?” He struggled to process it. These three were planning to take down forty apes—creatures who had already devastated an entire city—without any outside support. He glanced at Baker, looking for a contradiction, but Baker didn’t refute Aquaz’s words. Though he looked a bit anxious, his silence meant agreement. “Uh... I see...,” Kukulitan said. “But they might try to escape if we just attack. It would be easiest to round them up all at once,” Aquaz mused. “That’s the problem. How do we gather them in one place?” The City of Merfolk was not an option—too many survivors were still hiding there. They would need to lure every ape to a specific location, away from the city, in order to wipe them out at once. “We could grab one and use it to call the others,” Aquaz suggested. “Let’s go catch an ape.” Ketal interrupted her. “No need. I’ll handle it myself.” His tone was calm and confident. *** Follow current novels on NovєlFіre.net With Kukulitan’s guidance, the group swam to an empty stretch of open sea, far enough from the City of Merfolk to avoid risking any hidden survivors. Aquaz scanned their surroundings and nodded in approval. “This should be far enough. Baker, what do you think?” Baker surveyed the terrain and gave a brief nod. “Looks good to me.” “Let’s start getting ready, then,” Aquaz said, already beginning to focus her power. Kukulitan still looked anxious. “Are you... really sure about this? Can just three people really handle those monsters?” But Aquaz’s face was composed, almost serene. “Don’t worry. It will be over soon.” The certainty in her voice left Kukulitan with no room to argue, and he fell silent. The preparations began. Aquaz offered a prayer, storing up as much divine power as she could. Baker began an elaborate incantation, etching intricate magical circles in the sand and weaving mana into complex knots. The preparations were not quick; the two poured all their focus and energy into ensuring everything would go smoothly. It took nearly an hour to complete all the steps. Ketal, watching with interest, finally asked, “Does it always take this long to get ready?” Aquaz looked up, her expression serious. “This isn’t just raw strength. We need to manifest our powers perfectly, with absolute precision. Now we’re done. Sorry for making you wait.” Ketal shook his head. “No need to apologize. Should I call them now?” “Yes, but... are you really sure you can do it?” Aquaz asked him, a hint of concern showing for the first time. Ketal’s plan was simple: he would summon all the apes at once, without using any tricks or bait. But Aquaz and Kukulitan couldn’t see how he could possibly accomplish such a thing. Instead of answering, Ketal turned to Kukulitan. “You said these apes have poor hearing, but are aggressive, right? They’ll attack anything they see?” Kukulitan nodded, still bewildered. “That’s correct, but...” “That’s all I needed to know. Using one as bait might work, but there’s no way to guarantee the scattered scouts will notice it. Better to do it my way. Everyone, cover your ears and shield yourselves.” Ketal drew in a deep breath. He let the Veil of Deceit drop from his body, exposing his bare flesh to the crushing pressure of the deep ocean. The water pressed against him, the cold and weight intense—but he didn’t flinch or hesitate. “Wait...” Aquaz’s eyes widened as she sensed what was about to happen. She quickly raised a barrier of divine light, wrapping herself, Baker, and Kukulitan in layers of protection—leaving only Ketal exposed. Then, Ketal opened his mouth. “Ah. Ah. AAAAAAH!” A roar ripped from his throat, echoing through the sea with the force of a tidal wave. The currents churned, and for an instant, it felt as if the ocean itself trembled in fear. The water shook and heaved, as if a submarine earthquake had struck. The earth beneath the waves rumbled, clouds of sand and silt swirling in wild eddies. The shockwave traveled outward, turning the water murky and filling the air with vibrating debris. Even the fish swimming in the distance could not survive the pressure—many burst from within, their bodies giving out as the sound pounded through them. Aquaz’s divine barrier began to crack under the onslaught, thin lines of stress forming on the walls of holy power. Was this really something a human could do? Aquaz stared at Ketal in disbelief. Moments later, a deep, distant rumbling could be heard, growing rapidly louder. “They’re coming,” Ketal said with a satisfied grin. Aquaz, still covering her ears, slowly removed her hands, struggling to process what she had witnessed.“How... How is that possible?” Was this really a power that belonged to a human? Baker wondered. Still pale, he muttered his doubts aloud, “At this point... are we sure Ketal isn’t one of the Demon Realm’s creatures?” Baker’s tone was joking, but Aquaz let out a small, bitter laugh. She knew Ketal was a barbarian from the White Snowfield. From that perspective, Baker’s guess wasn’t all that far off. From the distance, the howls of the approaching apes grew louder. Every last one, including the scouts and the main group from the city, was converging on their location, drawn by Ketal’s roar. “All right, I’m counting on you,” Ketal said, stepping back and giving Aquaz room. Aquaz took a deep breath and stepped forward to face the oncoming horde. These apes from the Demon Realm—creatures with skin that ordinary weapons couldn’t pierce, strength that could shatter holy barriers—were powerful, there was no denying that. But Aquaz was the Inquisitor of the Sun God, and she was definitely stronger than the apes. She was still in her early twenties, but had already reached the pinnacle of the Transcendents—a genius in the eyes of the entire church. She stretched out her hand, and the words of scripture rang out. “Material, Chapter 4, Verse 2. Let your holy light embrace the guilty.” A pillar of blinding light flared, surrounding the apes in a holy barrier. But Aquaz wasn’t finished. Without pausing, she continued, “Material, Chapter 12, Verse 45. The great prison of the Sun has been manifested. Only those acknowledged by the Sun God may pass through.” More pillars of light crashed down, one after another, locking the entire horde in a cage of radiance. The leader of the apes, sensing that something was wrong, began to howl, urging its followers to run. But it was too late—the prison of light had already sealed them in. The leader slammed its fists against the glowing pillars, trying to break free. But Aquaz kept her focus. “Material, Chapter 6, Verse 11. The impure challenge the majesty of the Sun God. The Sun God, displeased, demonstrates a barrier equal to its authority,” she chanted. The pillars thickened, growing even stronger. The ape leader channeled all its strength, even its last reserves, and struck the barrier with everything it had. But instead of shattering the pillar, the impact sent the leader tumbling back. Ketal couldn’t help but admire the layered spells. “Impressive. That’s amazing.” Even if Ashetiaar were to reappear, even she wouldn’t be able to scratch the surface of this divine light. This is what true preparation looks like, he thought. Until now, every powerful being he’d met—whether it was Arkemis, or the Saintess of Kalosia—had fought under sudden, unpredictable circumstances, unable to go all out. This time, however, Aquaz had planned everything out in advance, gathering intelligence, preparing for an hour, and entering battle at her full strength. The results were awe-inspiring. “Material, Chapter 22, Verse 1. Thus did the Sun God protect his people, and his light and heart shall never be forgotten,” Aquaz continued. A brilliant domain of holy light spread across the sea floor. Aquaz steadied her breath, watching as the apes continued to hammer desperately at the barriers, but not even a tremor ran through the walls. “Your turn, Baker,” she said, glancing back. “Understood,” Baker replied. Ketal’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. If this is the full power of a faithful follower of a god, what would the perfected magic of a mage look like? “Behold.” Baker began his chant, his voice was calm. The mana he’d spent so long preparing began to flow in precise patterns. “O star beyond, O countless phenomena that ripple within you...” The StarTail School was the order of those who gazed at the heavens—and the stars were vast. From ancient times, the Startail mages had been called to the front lines in great wars, their magic capable of changing the very landscape. Such spells were difficult to use in smaller battles, but here, in this vast and open sea, Baker had the perfect stage. “...Quaking heat, falling meteors, burning ground, seas of fire, and glacial cold...,” Baker continued. The very space twisted under the force of the magic. A crack opened above the apes, a rift to a distant star. The apes thrashed even harder, sensing imminent danger, but the holy pillars held firm. “...The world where no life can survive, where only extremes exist. I summon those environments to this place...” Baker lowered his hand. “Star, descend!” And the space split open. With a roar, countless meteors rained down, exploding inside the barrier. Chunks of burning stone tore through the apes. It didn’t stop there—ice spread instantly across the seafloor, an almost absolute chill that froze the ocean itself. Then, with a flash, the frozen water boiled, the two extremes tearing the world apart. It was as if an alien star had landed here, bringing with it the lifeless void and burning heat of another world. Had Aquaz not blocked the magic with her divine light, the whole region of the ocean would have been ruined. The apes could not withstand it. One by one, they froze solid, then melted away in the next instant, dying in a flash of pain. Dozens fell in moments. Kukulitan was horrified. “What... what is this power...?” As an Advanced warrior, it was far beyond comprehension. Ketal, too, was awestruck. “Incredible! Amazing, Baker!” He’d seen large-scale magic before—the Tower Master’s spell that had put an entire city to sleep. But that had been a pacifying spell, not an attack. This was different. Baker’s spell shook the very space, destroyed everything inside, and left only devastation in its wake. He clapped Baker on the shoulder, grinning wide. “That was amazing, Baker! Truly incredible!”Baker looked at Ketal, at first surprised by the praise, then slowly breaking into a smile. “R-really?” “Of course! That was even greater than I could have imagined. You’re a true Transcendent mage. I mean it! You’ve earned my respect!” Baker trembled, overwhelmed by Ketal’s sincerity. He’d always been a bit afraid of Ketal, but every time he received genuine praise from him, it felt strange—and oddly pleasant. Now, with Ketal showering him with admiration, a powerful emotion surged inside. It reminded him of the first time his strict master had ever praised him. Baker was captivated. I want to hear it again..., he thought, like a child yearning for approval. The apes, however, were not all dead. Some still moaned, battered and burned, but clinging to life. Both Aquaz and Baker were spent, having poured all their strength into their attacks. It was Ketal’s turn now. “Good work, everyone,” he said, giving them a pat on the back. He walked over to the battlefield. The pillar of light had faded, but most of the apes lay motionless, too wounded to move. Only one remained unscathed—a massive ape, clearly larger and more imposing than the rest. It was the leader, and despite the chaos, it had not suffered even a scratch. The leader glared at Ketal, radiating hostility. But Ketal’s own expression was unreadable. “So you’re the boss, huh?” Ketal murmured. He studied the creature—this king of the sea apes, a living monster from the depths, a true rival to the likes of Nano. Ketal gave a faint, enigmatic smile. “Are you really the strongest of them all?” “Kiiieaak!” the leader screamed as it hurled itself at Ketal, claws outstretched. Ketal raised his hand, not in fear, but in silent challenge. “Well, let’s see about that. I’ll find out for myself.”