CHAPTER 171: [EELS]

’It’s a bit reckless, but this would work—’

Eli’s thoughts scattered before he could even piece the plan together.

He had barely formed the outline of an idea—half logic, half desperation, the kind of thought that came when he was running on adrenaline and panic—when movement flickered at the edge of his vision.

The serpent.

It twitched.

A ripple passed through its enormous body, slow but deliberate. The motion sent a tremor through the broken cavern floor, shaking loose dust and chunks of rock from the ceiling.

Eli’s breath hitched. "...It’s moving again."

Kairo’s arm instantly tightened around him, his eyes snapping toward the creature. His aura pulsed faintly crimson, defensive, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

The serpent’s massive head was still jammed into the cracked ceiling, neck twisted at an unnatural angle, its body looped around itself in a mangled coil. The way its scales flexed—like faint waves under skin—made Eli’s stomach lurch.

For now, the weight of the rock had pinned it.

For now.

’That must be it,’ Eli realized, his eyes darting over its body. ’It attacked too fast, went straight up—its head got stuck. That’s why it’s not moving properly.’

It should’ve been a relief.

It wasn’t.

Because the silence that followed wasn’t the kind of silence that meant safety. It was the kind that listened back.

And beneath it—he could hear something else. A faint creaking, a low hum beneath the water’s surface.

The serpent wasn’t just stuck. It was waiting.

Then his danger sense flared.

The pain came like a blade between his eyes—sharp, burning, impossible to ignore. He gasped, his body jerking as the familiar ache crawled down his spine like static.

But this time, the danger wasn’t from above.

It was below.

"The water..." he breathed, his voice trembling.

Caelen turned instantly, his tone clipped, composed. "What about it?" His golden eyes cut through the dim light, razor-sharp. "Be clear, Eli. Depth? Pressure shift? Movement?"

Eli opened his mouth, then closed it. The sensation was too broad, too consuming—it wasn’t a single threat, but everything. Every droplet, every ripple around his boots vibrated with something wrong.

"I—I can’t tell," he stammered, pressing a shaking hand to his temple. "It’s coming from the water itself. It’s everywhere."

Caelen’s expression darkened. "Meaning?"

"I don’t know! It’s not a creature—it’s just—" his voice cracked, "—the water!"

That made Kairo move. His head snapped downward, eyes narrowing, expression sharp and cold. "The phantoms, perhaps," he muttered. "Or the serpent’s still connected to it—controlling it."

Eli’s heart pounded. "Maybe... nothing’s happening yet, but my danger sense—"

He didn’t finish.

The water moved.

At first, it was almost gentle—a slow swirl, subtle enough to look like a current. Then the pull came. Faint. Then stronger. Then strong enough to tug at his boots.

The entire cavern groaned under the shift.

"Captain!" Mio shouted from the far side, voice echoing over the splashing waves. "The water—it’s rising!"

Eli’s gaze snapped downward.

The black surface was climbing. Not sloshing or spilling—lifting. Like something was pushing it upward from below.

The glow from the hunters’ auras reflected across it—crimson and gold rippling across a slick, obsidian mirror. Bubbles broke through the surface, slow at first... then faster.

Plop.Plop.Plop-plop-plop.

Each one louder than the last.

Kairo’s voice cut through the panic, commanding, sharp. "Everyone, calm down! Stay alert—don’t waste mana until we know what it is!"

Across from him, Caelen let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Calm down," he repeated under his breath, tilting his head slightly as the water began trembling more violently. His smirk didn’t reach his eyes. "And yet... there’s nothing calm about this, is there?"

As much as Eli wanted to shut Caelen up—just once—he couldn’t. Because infuriatingly, Caelen was right.

This wasn’t something they could afford to be calm about.

The water was rising fast.

Not the slow, creeping kind that gave time to think—no. It climbed with deliberate purpose, churning and climbing the cracked stone like it wanted to drown them where they stood.

And above them, the serpent’s body kept thrashing weakly, its movements shaking the ceiling so violently that small chunks of rock began falling again, splashing into the dark water below.

Eli’s pulse raced. "We have to get out of here," he said, his voice tight, urgent.

"Where?" Kairo shot back immediately, scanning the collapsing cavern. "As far as we know, this cave only goes straight."

Eli thought fast, his gaze darting across the shaking walls. "But... the serpent earlier—when it came crashing down, it came from above, right? It tore through the ceiling, made a hole on the other side where the others are. If we can reach that opening, we can climb out!"

Kairo opened his mouth to respond, but Caelen beat him to it. The man crossed his arms lazily over his chest, unfazed even as the ground quaked beneath them.

"Good thinking," he said, tone dripping with condescension, "but do you have any idea how we’re supposed to get there? That thing’s body is blocking half the cavern, and unless you plan on walking through it, there’s no way to reach the others."

Eli glared at him. "Well, do you have a better idea?"

Caelen’s lips curved. "No."

"Then stop acting like mine’s bad."

"I didn’t say it was bad," Caelen replied smoothly, tilting his head. "I said it was impossible for now. Unless, of course, you’ve discovered a hidden teleportation skill you’d like to share with the group."

Eli’s eye twitched.

His eye twitched because Caelen was right—and he hated it.

He could feel Kairo’s gaze on him now, that quiet, assessing stare that carried just a hint of surprise. It was probably the first time he’d seen Eli push back like this. Normally, Eli kept his tone measured—collected, polite. But with Caelen... it was different.

Something about the man pulled it out of him—the irritation, the sarcasm, the nerve.

"Eli, calm down," Kairo said suddenly, his voice even but firm. "Arguing about nonsensical things won’t help right now."

"Nonsensical?" Caelen repeated, feigning offense. "I’d hardly call it nonsensical when I’m the only one here making sense. He’s just upset because little sweetheart was wrong about something, aren’t ya?"

Eli’s head snapped toward him, disbelief flashing in his eyes. "What did you just—"

Kairo sighed, jaw tightening. "Caelen."

"What?"

The single word came out low, sharp, and edged with warning.

Eli groaned, dragging both hands over his face as the two men’s voices clashed again, their tones perfectly out of sync yet eerily complementary.

’Seriously,’ Eli thought, his frustration bubbling like the water around them, ’how are they both pissing me off by disagreeing with each other—but also somehow agreeing?’

And as if things couldn’t possibly get worse—someone from the other side shouted, voice echoing over the roar of rushing water.

"Uh, Caelen... the serpent thing is transforming into something!"

It was Jabby.

The words made everyone freeze.

Kairo turned first, his crimson eyes cutting toward the writhing mass in the middle of the cavern. Eli followed his gaze—and his breath hitched.

The serpent’s body was changing.

"It..." Eli’s voice faltered.

It still resembled the serpent they’d been fighting—but its shape was shifting, contorting in ways that defied anatomy. Thick scales sloughed off and fell into the water, revealing slicker, darker flesh beneath. Ridges rose along its back, sharp and uneven—like jagged fins tearing through its skin.

Fins.

No—dorsal fins.

Its long, coiling body glistened wetly, a film of slime and oil clinging to every movement. The way it writhed was slower now, but deliberate—like it was getting used to its new form.

"...looks like an eel," Eli breathed.

Caelen squinted, his tone casual but his hand drifting to his sword. "So, is it a snake or an eel?"

"It looks like both," Eli answered, his voice barely steady.

And that was the terrifying part.

Every monster they’d encountered so far—every creature in this dungeon—had been aquatic. Sea-kind.

Leeches.

Phantoms that looked like drowned sirens or twisted mermaids.

A massive octopus that controlled water itself.

Now this—an eel-serpent hybrid with god-knows-what kind of power.

All of them shared one thing in common. They weren’t monsters from Aerth. They were... distorted reflections of things that once existed there.

Eli’s mind clicked into place. His pulse spiked.

’Wait—if they’re all sea-based, and they’re evolving as they die, then...’

His eyes widened. The water was already up to Kairo’s waist now, cold and rising faster. The eel’s body moved beneath the surface, shifting, stretching. The pressure in the air thickened like the calm before a tsunami.

He didn’t need his danger sense this time. His gut already screamed it.

"Oh no," he whispered, realization dawning—and dread following fast behind.

Kairo and Caelen both turned toward him at once. "What?" they demanded simultaneously.

Eli looked up at them, face pale, his pulse hammering against his throat. His voice came out unsteady but quick—urgent.

"The octopus monster we fought earlier," he began, words tumbling over themselves, "it showed every characteristic of a normal octopus—except the mind-control thing. It used its ink like camouflage, but the ink was also its ability. It weaponized what it already had."

Kairo’s brows furrowed. "So?" he asked, calm but sharp. "What about it?"

Before Eli could answer, Caelen’s expression shifted. His golden eyes flicked to the water, widening as realization struck.

"Eels," Caelen said quietly, voice low but clear. "Eels can release electricity."

And the moment he said it—

The water surged.

A deep rumble tore through the cavern floor as if something massive had just drawn breath beneath them. A violent shockwave burst from below, spraying a wall of freezing mist across the cave.

Eli flinched hard, instinctively clutching onto Kairo’s arm. His body jolted from the tremor as the ground cracked under the sudden pressure.

Kairo’s hold tightened around him instantly, steady and unyielding. "Hold on."

Caelen’s blade was already out, the crimson edge of it gleaming even in the chaos. "I think we pissed it off."

Eli’s danger sense screamed. Not a warning this time—an alarm. His chest clenched, lungs burning as adrenaline spiked through him. Every part of his body screamed run.

"Get back!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "It’s—"

He didn’t finish.

The entire pool erupted.

Water exploded upward, slamming into the ceiling with the force of a detonation. The cavern roared as spray and debris filled the air, drenching everyone in a storm of cold and pressure.

Eli gasped, throwing his arm up to shield his face. The air filled with a sharp metallic tang—ozone, hot and violent.

And then he saw it.

Blue light.

It wasn’t reflected. It wasn’t coming from their auras. It was coming from the water itself.

Thin veins of electricity rippled outward, branching across the black surface like lightning veins spreading through glass. They flickered—then flashed bright enough to blind.

The serpent’s shadow shifted beneath the current, its long body twisting as arcs of lightning crawled over its scales.

It wasn’t stuck.

It was charging.

Eli’s heart lurched, and panic tore through him like a blade. His mind raced—every thought sharp and fast, colliding with the next.

’It’s using the water. It’s turning the whole cave into a conductor—no, a trap!’