Chapter 287: Too Big for His Own Good

Trafalgar stood at the edge of the ship, boots planted firm against the deck as he stared down into the ocean. The shadow beneath the surface was growing clearer with every passing second—vast, slow, patient. It circled just below the waves, as if it knew there was no need to rush.Maledicta had been summoned for a while now, resting in his right hand. His grip around the hilt was steady, knuckles pale, mana flowing into the blade in a quiet, constant stream. He wasn’t trembling. If anything, he felt... focused.

’Yeah,’ he thought dryly. ’Maybe I really do have balls that are too big for my own good.’

He didn’t fool himself. This wasn’t bravado for the sake of it. Trafalgar genuinely wanted to know where he stood now—how much he’d grown. He was in Flow Rank, the fourth core. Stronger than ever. Faster. With deeper reserves of mana and better control than the last time he’d fought something truly dangerous.

And this would be his first real test at this level.

His opponent, on the other hand, was a Prime Rank creature. Fifth core. One full rank above him.

Winning against something like that wasn’t impossible—but it demanded perfection. One mistake, one greedy move, and it would be over.

Normally, he wouldn’t even consider it.

But this time was different.

Caelum was here. Alfred was here. People strong enough to pull him out if things went truly wrong. The odds were still bad—but not suicidal. And part of him wanted to know. Needed to know.

’If I’m going to run into monsters like this in the future... I can’t afford to stay ignorant of the gap.’

The shadow drew closer to the surface.

Trafalgar didn’t move. He waited.

From behind him, Alfred let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

"At this pace," the old captain grumbled, leaning against the railing, "I really am going to die of old age. Whenever you feel like it, Trafalgar."

Trafalgar didn’t even glance back.

’Grumpy old bastard,’ he thought, almost fondly.

His concentration didn’t waver.

Instead, his mind shifted fully into analysis mode—cold and sharp.

’I’m one core higher than the last time I fought a real monster. More mana, more output, better gear. I’m stronger. No question.’ He paused. ’But it’s still a Leviathan.’

In the stories back on Earth, Leviathans were mythical. World-ending beasts. Here, they were very real—and far worse.

The truly annoying part?

’It’s a kid.’

A young Leviathan, sure—but even a hatchling was born into Prime Rank. Creatures like this didn’t climb the ranks. They started above everyone else.

’Bastards,’ he thought flatly. ’Born superior.’

The shadow was almost at the surface now.

Trafalgar inhaled once, slow and controlled.

’Alright,’ he decided. ’I’ll start with my strongest move.’

His lips curled into a thin, dangerous smile.

’Time to prove these aren’t empty words.’

The ocean answered him.

Water exploded upward in a violent surge, as if the sea itself had been torn open. A towering splash rose in front of the ship, crashing back down like heavy rain. Cold seawater drenched the deck in an instant—soaking the wood, the crew, and Trafalgar himself.

Splash!

Trafalgar staggered half a step, wet black hair immediately sticking to his face.

"...Bastard," he muttered.

As the water fell away, his dark blue eyes finally locked onto the creature.

The Leviathan hadn’t fully emerged, but more than half of its massive body loomed above the surface. Its head alone was enormous—its jaw wider than Maeron was tall, easily over two meters. Rows of serrated teeth glistened between parted jaws, seawater dripping from them in slow, deliberate lines.

Its eyes were wrong.

Black sclera, slit pupils glowing yellow—predatory, feline, intelligent.

Its skin was a pure, unsettling white, but the midsection of its body was covered in cyan-blue scales that gradually darkened into deep navy as they reached the head. The contrast made it look almost unreal, like a living relic carved from ocean and mana.

The last of the falling water hit the deck.

The Leviathan’s gaze fixed on Trafalgar.

Not curiosity.

Recognition.

Either it saw him as a threat... or as a meal.

Given how barren this part of the ocean was, Trafalgar suspected the latter.

’Great,’ he thought coolly. ’A hungry one.’

The Leviathan tensed—muscles coiling beneath its scales, water churning violently around its body.

Trafalgar moved first.

[Severance Step]

The deck cracked beneath his feet as he vanished in a curved blur of motion. His body reappeared diagonally behind the creature’s neck, suspended midair due to the sheer height difference.

The Leviathan reacted too slowly.

Trafalgar’s grip tightened.

Mana flooded Maledicta in a violent surge.

[Morgain’s Final Crescent]

He didn’t hesitate.

Every ounce of stored energy compressed into a single, inverted crescent of dark-blue mana. The blade hummed, screamed—then carved forward.

The strike slammed into the Leviathan’s neck.

A shrill, piercing roar tore from the creature’s throat—sharp enough to vibrate the air itself, painful even to hear.

The impact sent ripples through its body.

But Trafalgar felt it instantly.

’...Not enough.’

The blade bit into scales—but didn’t cleave through. The resistance was brutal, far denser than he’d anticipated.

He was still airborne when the realization hit.

’Tch. Too hard.’

His momentum carried him past the strike as the Leviathan writhed, but it wasn’t wounded the way it should’ve been.

Not fatally.

Not even close.

Trafalgar’s eyes narrowed midair.

’Alright,’ he admitted grimly. ’That confirms it.’

This wasn’t going to be easy.

Trafalgar adjusted instantly.

’Scales that hard... then I can’t brute-force it,’ he thought, mind racing. ’Eyes. Mouth. Anything soft.’

But even as the thought formed, he knew the problem.

Getting that close again wouldn’t be easy.

The Leviathan twisted violently, its massive body churning the sea into foaming chaos. Trafalgar clicked his tongue and activated his skill once more.

[Severance Step]

His body blurred again—this time landing directly on top of the creature.

Both feet slammed against the slick, scaled surface.

For a brief moment, Trafalgar was standing on the Leviathan’s back, balanced perfectly as if riding a living mountain. Mana flared around his legs to keep his footing, Maledicta held low and ready.

"...This is ridiculous," he muttered.

The Leviathan reacted instantly.

The moment it registered the weight on its body, it dove.

Straight down.

Water swallowed its form as the creature attempted to drag everything with it into the depths. Trafalgar felt the sudden pull, cold seawater rushing upward—

"Nope."

He kicked off hard, twisting his body midair and abandoning the creature before it could fully submerge. Using the momentum, he flipped backward and landed cleanly on the ship’s deck just as the Leviathan disappeared beneath the surface.

Water surged violently around the hull.

Trafalgar slid back a step, boots scraping against soaked wood.

’Yeah... no way I’m fighting it in the water,’ he thought. ’That’s suicide.’

Below the surface, a massive shadow moved.

Slow.

Patient.

Circling.

The Leviathan wasn’t rushing anymore.

It had learned.

Trafalgar stood still, blade lowered but ready, eyes scanning the sea. He knew this was going to turn into a waiting game—and that favored the monster’s instincts, not his own.

But there was one advantage he had.

The mana he’d burned so aggressively moments ago was already flowing back into his core. Warm. Steady. Relentless.

Primordial Body.

His breathing evened out as his reserves recovered at an absurd pace.

’Good,’ he thought calmly. ’Take your time.’

The ocean exploded again.

The Leviathan burst from beneath the surface without warning, its massive body surging upward as water detonated around the ship. The deck tilted violently, crew members shouting as they grabbed railings and supports.

"Tch—there you are," Trafalgar muttered.

The creature didn’t pause to stare this time.

It attacked.

Its enormous head slammed toward the ship, jaws snapping shut with enough force to crush steel. Trafalgar reacted on instinct, Maledicta rising just in time as he met the charge head-on—not to block, but to divert.

Steel screamed.

The impact sent a shock through his arms, but he twisted at the last moment, deflecting the strike just enough for the Leviathan’s skull to scrape past the hull instead of biting straight through it.

The ship shuddered.

Wood groaned.

Alfred’s voice thundered from behind. "Oi—careful with my baby!"

Trafalgar didn’t answer.

His eyes were locked on a single point.

The same spot he had struck before.

’There,’ he thought. ’Same place. Again.’

Mana surged.

[Arc Slash]

A dark-blue crescent tore through the air, not wide, not wild—but precise. Trafalgar aimed it directly at the same section of scales near the Leviathan’s neck, pouring intent and focus into the strike.

The blade of mana hit.

This time—

Crack.

A sharp, unmistakable sound rang out as several cyan scales splintered, fractures spiderwebbing across their surface. The Leviathan roared, a deep, furious sound that vibrated through the ship and the sea alike.

It recoiled.

Pulled back fast.

But Trafalgar didn’t let it escape.

[Severance Step]

His form blurred again, reappearing midair beside the Leviathan’s wounded flank. Mana flooded Maledicta once more as he raised the blade for another decisive blow.

[Morgain’s Final Crescent]

The inverted crescent slammed into the cracked scales.

The Leviathan shrieked—a violent, enraged sound that shook the sea itself.

But this time, it didn’t retreat.

Its massive tail rose from the water like a falling wall.

Trafalgar’s eyes widened.

"Shi—!"

The impact came before he could fully react.

The tail struck him midair and sent his body flying like a discarded doll, smashing him clean off the ship. Water rushed up as the deck vanished from sight, the ocean swallowing him whole in a violent splash.

For a brief moment—

Silence.

The crew froze.

Someone shouted.

"He’s dead—!"

"No way he survived that—!"

Alfred gripped the railing, teeth clenched. Even he didn’t say anything.

Only Caelum remained still.

Golden eyes locked onto the point where Trafalgar had disappeared beneath the waves.

He didn’t move or react.

Because he had seen what Trafalgar did.

Just before the impact—

A subtle shift of posture.

A microscopic turn of the blade.

Not a block.

A perfect parry.

Caelum’s eyes widened—just a fraction. Enough.

His breath caught for the briefest instant.

’...A perfect parry,’ he realized.

The force had still been overwhelming. The difference in rank was undeniable. Trafalgar had been launched away regardless.

But not by mistake.

Not by panic.

He had met the blow head-on... and redirected it at the last possible moment.

To everyone else, it looked like a failure.

To Caelum—

It was brilliance.

His lips curved, almost imperceptibly.

’So that’s it...’ he thought, a spark of genuine excitement stirring in his chest for the first time in decades.’You truly are a chosen one, Trafalgar.’

Below the surface, the Leviathan twisted. Mana surged. The water grew heavy—pressurized. Something vast was charging in the depths, and Trafalgar was still submerged.