Eylan felt his pores prickle. His breathing grew heavy. Countless thoughts crossed his mind in a single instant.
'Black signal… that means zero activity. No noise. Nothing.'
Steadying his breathing, he forced himself to think rationally, trying to assess the situation and the risks.
'For it to be a black signal, it has to be at least a Fallen creature. But Saint Bloodwave is here… even if it's a Corrupted one, we shouldn't have that much trouble driving it off.'
He knew it was serious—very serious—but not enough to threaten everyone aboard.
However, the moment he thought that, a terrifying shock made the ship tremble.
The water began to boil. Massive waves rose like living walls. It was as if the sea itself were being split apart by a furious battle.
Eylan's heart went cold.
Even though he had traveled through the Stormsea during his First Nightmare, it was still terrifying to witness with his own eyes the impact of a Saint's battle. The fight before him looked like something straight out of a myth—and it was happening only meters away.
'I-is this the power of a Saint? Is it really possible for someone to reach something like this?'
Trembling, he took hesitant steps toward the window.
He had to see.
He had to know who would win.
That would decide whether he made it to land alive.
Through the window, he saw black tentacles tearing through the surface, marked with enigmatic symbols. They lashed the water with enough force to crush mountains.
Moments later, a colossal killer whale emerged. It was terrifying—covered in countless scars, as if it had survived innumerable horrors. It looked like something straight out of a legend told by desperate sailors.
Hypnotized, Eylan watched the fight, unable to look away.
It was terrifying… and magnificent.
The creature and the Saint were evenly matched. Their bodies collided in explosions of water, and their inhuman roars echoed across the ocean.
The ship's cannons lit up the night, their shots resembling fireworks.
But… they were useless. Human firepower couldn't even scratch the tentacles. Indifferent, they received the attacks head-on, rising as tall as lighthouses.
Their shadows seemed to blanket the world.
The battle dragged on for some time, until the rhythm began to change.
Saint Bloodwave shifted to a far more aggressive style. He attacked relentlessly, giving no chance for retaliation.
Dodging the tentacles, he let out a bestial roar and plunged into the depths.
The creature's true body had to be down there.
Both colossal forms vanished into the darkness.
All that remained was the movement of the waves and bubbles rising from the deep—signs of an even fiercer battle than the one on the surface.
The ship groaned as it rocked violently. Waves formed, the horizon bending as if two aquatic deities were clashing below.
Then, suddenly—like a tide breaking against the shore—
A muffled boom echoed through the water.
Eylan felt a sharp ringing in his ears.
The battle was over.
His heart raced. Who had won?
If it was Saint Bloodwave, they could continue their journey.
If it was the creature…
Everyone would die.
The color of the ocean darkened. The water that had once been blue was now stained black.
Its viscosity resembled thousands of tiny creatures writhing together.
A deep, thunderous sound echoed.
The tension among everyone watching was palpable. The emptiness left behind felt sinister.
Then, from the depths, a gigantic killer whale surfaced, drawing closer to the ship. Slowly, its form began to distort. Flesh folded inward as if being swallowed by its own shadow. Bones creaked, adjusting into an impossible geometry.
It was its transformation—the killer orca.
Eylan felt nauseous.
The situation seemed to have calmed down; apparently, the dweller of the deep had chosen to retreat, leaving after a long clash with the Saint.
Sighs of relief came from the crew, now finally calm.
Eylan took a deep breath, still shaken. He had never witnessed such overwhelming power.
He returned to his cabin slowly, feeling the weight of that battle pressing down on him.
"Could Saint Bloodwave find a way for me to go back home…?"
The answer was obvious—just hard to accept.
"No… even with all that power, I'm sure he couldn't."
His already fractured spirit began to crumble further. If not even someone with that level of power could be certain of reaching Eylan's goal, what chance did he himself have?
Eylan was weak. Too small for this world. What could he possibly do?
Just as he was about to give up, he finally remembered something.
His family.
He still had something.
They were still there, waiting for him to return. Eylan would not crush their hopes.
'I won't disappoint them.'
His soul ignited, his resolve stronger than ever.
Eylan returned to his bed, determined to become stronger. That night, his determination took shape.
"I'm sure that if I want to go back home, I have to be strong—very strong.
I doubt it's possible as just a Dreamer. Not even as an Awakened, an Ascended, or a Saint."
"I'll have to become at least a Supreme if I want to find my way back…"
"…I have to do it."
His heart filled with determination, his will as sharp as a blade, his soul blazing fiercely.
"I will return, no matter what!"
Whether because of the shift in his mindset, or because he now had a clear vision of his goal—
That night, he had no nightmares.