"Good grief, what did these creatures eat growing up to pack this much brute force?!" Jeanne muttered, gritting her teeth as she held her flagpole with both hands to brace against the oncoming pressure.
This was the first time she had ever found herself at a disadvantage in a sheer contest of physical strength. Granted, she was holding back two opponents simultaneously, but given her usual confidence in her raw power—a quality that had carried her through almost every obstacle—the situation felt thoroughly frustrating.
Yet the two Seaborn before her paid no mind to her inner complaints. They even ignored the burns and blows Fafnir rained down upon them, keeping their malice locked exclusively onto Jeanne.
Her previous trial out at sea had been broadcast through the hive mind of We-Many to every corner of their collective consciousness. Some among the Seaborn had fallen into sheer despair, while others initiated rapid evolutionary mutations. Their response boiled down to two paths: quietly await extinction, or risk everything to destroy this surface girl once and for all!
Now, these three individual units—mutated to the point of fluent speech—had completely abandoned any desire for survival. They were ready to trade their lives if it meant dragging the bringer of ruin down into death alongside them.
"Bringer of Ruin to We-Many... do you hear the wails and laments of the kin you slaughtered? Did you witness the ruthless calamity that harvested our blood? Did you ever—"
Before the monster could finish its grand speech, Jeanne delivered a sharp kick, sending the babbling creature skittering across the floor. This thing was getting seriously annoying! What was the point of all this dramatic whining?!
"I am no Seaborn; I hear no such things," Jeanne said flatly.
Taking advantage of the distance, she swept her flagpole in tandem with Fafnir's strike, knocking the second beast off its feet and carving a deep gash across its torso.
"I can perhaps understand your terror when facing total annihilation. Just as humans on the surface feel that exact horror when forced to face your kind."
Black iron thorns surged from the stone floor, skewering both Seaborn through their torsos. Yet the two creatures seemed utterly immune to pain, forcing their bodies forward against the impaling spikes. Their featureless heads remained pinned on Jeanne, tracking her every shift to ensure she wouldn't slip away.
"You may hate me, or curse my name—if your kind even harbors such concepts as hatred and curses. But none of that matters."
More obsidian thorns burst from the subterranean stone, driving through the abominations' limbs and chest cavities. As the monsters forged ahead, the spikes snapped under their weight, leaving broken shards embedded deep within their flesh.
"An outsider... who understands nothing of We-Many... how could you ever comprehend our terror, or the great purpose of our tide?!"
This particular unit had clearly honed its speech capabilities, flinging accusations at Jeanne as it closed the distance. The sheer weight of its words might have driven a lesser soul to falter under guilt.
Yet Jeanne remained completely unmoved. The girl's expression stayed cool and collected, her eyes fixed on the oncoming threat as she methodically met their charges with brutal efficiency.
"I may be a proponent of peace, but if you think a few melodramatic lines will make me question my path, you are sorely mistaken."
With a swift thrust, Jeanne drove the blunt end of her flagpole directly into the creature's right shoulder joint, hoisting its massive frame into the air before slamming it violently onto the stone pavement. Before it could recover, a thick cluster of iron thorns burst through the floor, pinning it down.
Beside her, Fafnir unleashed a roaring torrent of flames, engulfing the second Seaborn in a blazing inferno. Neither Jeanne nor the dragon lowered their guard for a fraction of a second, even as the target was swallowed by fire.
"Besides, you picked up that dramatic flair from those cultists, didn't you? It sounds completely amateurish. Then again, considering they're cultists, I suppose I shouldn't expect much."
Maintaining her iron hold over the burning beast, Jeanne watched it twist and thrash within the flames until its movements ceased entirely. To ensure no lingering vitality remained, she signaled Fafnir to blast the charred remains with another jet of dragon fire.
Under this relentless barrage, even a creature that had mutated into such a terrifying form stood no chance. It remained a biological entity, after all—and surviving the superheated breath of a true dragon was an evolutionary leap no organism could easily cross.
"We... curse you... A day will come... when you will..." The remaining Seaborn hissed, realizing it was powerless to slay its enemy. Locked in a stalemate, it spat out a final curse, unable to manage anything more.
Before its parting curse could fully form, a heavy weapon whistled through the air from behind, slamming directly into the back of its head. The sheer, crushing force obliterated the monster's skull, sending fragments flying across the room!
It was Skadi, arriving to reinforce the front. Down the far corridor, Ulpianus was methodically battering the remaining Seaborn into a bloody paste with his heavy anchor, his strikes coming down like a rhythmic hammer.
The scene was brutally violent. Watching the two Hunter titans work, Jeanne thought to herself that it was no surprise they belonged to the same squad—though she couldn't help but wonder if every Abyssal Hunter fought with such raw savagery.
"Are you unhurt?" Skadi asked, stepping over. Before Jeanne could even answer, Skadi scanned the charred, stone-strewn surroundings and answered her own question. "It seems you were in no real danger."
"Of course not," Jeanne replied, shaking her head. "I was just a bit startled when I first ran into them. To think the Seaborn could produce humanoids of this scale..."
Jeanne realized her understanding of their capabilities had been somewhat limited. She had assumed their evolutionary upper limit was mimicking beasts, flora, or grotesque marine monstrosities. For a species operating on a hive mind, fostering individual communication with foreign organisms was exceptionally rare.
From Jeanne's perspective, a collective intelligence had no practical need to communicate with the outside world. Communication implied the emergence of individual identity—a distinct threat to a unified hive mind.
"It is only natural to be surprised," Skadi noted, watching the headless Seaborn thrash wildly against the stone wall. "The Seaborn are far more adaptable than what you have seen so far. Their ability to direct individual mutations gives them room for trial and error. And because We-Many manages the collective, they never fear failure—every failed trial yields valuable data for the whole."
Despite having its head pulverized by Skadi's blow, the headless torso remained standing, flailing its arms with terrifying vigor. The head was clearly not a single point of failure for this specimen.
Jeanne and Skadi held their ground, observing whether the body would eventually collapse or retain its activity, seeking to gauge its resilience.
Before their eyes, after a few minutes of blind destruction, fresh tissue began sprouting from the neck stump, rapidly regenerating a new head! The two exchanged a look of mild resignation. Dealing with these organisms was truly a nightmare.
Given enough time, these creatures could evolve to a point where traditional weak spots simply ceased to exist.
"I can almost see why those cultists in The Deep Sea Church worship these things," Jeanne remarked with a sigh, her tone half-joking. "They've barely adopted humanoid forms, yet the structural optimization is already this absurd."
With a flick of her wrist, Jeanne unleashed a wave of holy flame alongside Fafnir's fiery breath, engulfing the regenerating humanoid. They maintained the heat until the creature was reduced to fine ash.
"Still, I have no desire to pursue that kind of existence. Human bodies suit me just fine, and I'm perfectly content with mine."
Turning back, Jeanne caught sight of Skadi's distant, unfocused gaze. The Hunter seemed lost in thought, a heavy shadow hanging over her expression.
Realizing something must have occurred before her arrival, Jeanne asked what had happened.
Skadi stood silent for a long time, her eyes staring blankly at the ashes before she finally let out a long, hollow sigh.
"I spoke with these creatures before you arrived," Skadi murmured softly. "They revealed something... They said the tragedy of my hometown—the destruction of my home and the slaughter of my kin—was never committed by the Seaborn. And Seaborn are fundamentally incapable of telling lies."
The implication of her words was painfully clear. If the Seaborn were not responsible, then the blame fell squarely on the other party involved.
The only possibility left was the higher authorities of Aegir!
Jeanne found herself speechless, the words catching in her throat. How could anyone offer comfort upon learning a truth so agonizing? In the quiet that followed, she simply stepped forward and gently rested a hand on Skadi's shoulder, offering what silent solace she could.