Chapter 89: The Sea-Goliath

The twin diesel engines of the harbor patrol boat roared as it moved through the choppy bay water.

Cold sea spray splashed over the low railing, but the small boat didn’t slow down. A harbor pilot in a heavy yellow coat gripped the wheel, squinting through the windshield into the thick fog ahead.

Evren stood on the deck with his hands in his bomber jacket pockets. Beside him, Amber watched the water turn from murky green to an oily, dark gray.

Evren raised his right hand, tapping the silver spatial ring on his finger.

With a faint pulse of spatial mana, a pair of lightweight black tactical boots and Amber’s Frost-Valkyrie twin blades appeared in his grip.

He handed the twin blades to Amber and set the boots on the bench.

"Thanks," Amber said with a small smile.

She unbuckled her heels, slipped her feet into the tactical boots, and pulled the laces tight. She picked up her twin blades, giving them a light spin.

Up ahead, the gray mist shifted into a dense, purplish fog that smelled faintly of rotten kelp.

"Radar says she’s straight ahead... two hundred yards!" the pilot shouted, pulling back on the throttle. "I can’t get any closer to the stern! Those things might be crawling near the water line!"

A massive dark shape slowly emerged from the mist.

It was the Sea-Goliath.

The 20,000-ton cargo freighter was massive, its rusty red hull rising from the water like a steel wall. It sat still, leaning slightly to the left. Dark, oily slime dripped from the anchor, and the giant steel anchor chain was pulled tight toward the deep trench below.

Along the lower hull plates, several dark, multi-legged creatures were clinging to the rusted rivets.

"Hold the boat steady right here," Evren said calmly.

Evren stepped to the edge of the patrol boat’s bow. He bent his knees and kicked off the deck, launching twenty feet straight up, and catching the bottom of the freighter’s lowered pilot ladder with one hand.

He pulled himself up effortlessly and vaulted over the railing onto the main cargo deck.

A moment later, a breeze stirred as Amber landed lightly on the steel deck beside him with her blades at her sides.

The main deck was quiet and covered in thick fog. Rows of giant shipping containers were stacked three high, casting long shadows across the wet steel floor. Spent shell casings and dark, oily blood splattered the walkways.

SKRRRRT.

A sharp scratching sound echoed from atop a yellow shipping container twenty feet away.

Perched on the edge was a creature the size of a large dog. It was covered in a thick black shell dotted with jagged white barnacles, with six thin crab legs and sharp front pincers dripping dark liquid. Four pale red eyes stared down at them.

CHIRRRK!

The creature clicked its mandibles and shrieked.

From between the cargo stacks, five more scuttlers crawled into view, clicking their claws against the steel deck plates as they spread out in a circle.

"Six of them," Amber said calmly.

"Clean them up quickly," Evren said. "The crew is on the bridge."

Two scuttlers leaped off the container at the same time, snapping their pincers through the air as they dove toward Amber.

She stepped forward and ducked under the beast’s pincer, before swinging her right blade in a smooth, horizontal arc. The blade sliced through the creature’s neck easily, leaving a trail of blue frost behind. Before it even hit the deck, the beast froze and shattered into pieces.

Without missing a beat, Amber spun on her heel.

Her left blade caught the second scuttler right through its central shell, pinning it down. A burst of cold mana surged through the steel, freezing the creature instantly.

At the same moment, the remaining four beasts charged at Evren.

Evren saw the red lines of their movement before they even took their second step. The lead scuttler lunged with both pincers wide open.

Casually, Evren stepped half a pace to the left, letting the pincers snap empty air. He drove his right fist straight into the center of the creature’s carapace.

CRACK.

The punch landed like an eight-ton industrial hammer. The beast’s armored shell caved in completely, its dark blood bursting against the deck as it went limp instantly.

The second beast tried to flank him from behind. Without looking, Evren swung his left elbow backward. The blow caught the beast in the side of its head, snapping its neck joint with a sharp crack.

The remaining two creatures hesitated, clicking their mandibles in sudden panic. For wild beasts driven by bloodlust, the overwhelming pressure coming from the two humans was terrifying.

They turned around, trying to scurry back toward the containers.

But Evren stepped forward, caught the nearest beast by its rear leg, and slammed it against the steel container wall, crushing it on impact. Amber flicked her wrist, sending a crescent blade of frost mana across the deck that sliced the last runner in two.

All six creatures were dead.

Evren shook a drop of dark blood from his knuckles. "Let’s check the bridge."

They jogged down the center walkway toward the freighter’s superstructure, climbing the metal exterior stairs to the wheelhouse on the fourth deck.

The steel door to the bridge was closed, but the reinforced glass beside it was completely smashed. Dents covered the steel frame where the beasts had tried to claw inside.

Evren gripped the bent brass door handle, channeled a fraction of his strength, and yanked.

The bent deadbolt snapped, and the door swung open.

"Get back!" a desperate voice shouted from inside.

Standing behind an overturned navigation table were about twenty men in work jumpsuits, holding iron pipes, fire axes, and emergency signal flares. In front of them stood an older man with gray hair and a torn captain’s jacket, holding an empty flare gun with trembling hands.

This was Captain Flint.

When Flint saw Evren and Amber walk in instead of another monster, his arms slowly lowered in utter disbelief.

"You’re... humans?" Flint breathed. "Who are you?"

"I’m Amber Sterling, Vice-Chairman of Apex," Amber said, lowering her twin blades. "This is Chairman Evren. We bought the port yesterday. You’re safe now."

A collective breath escaped the room. Several crew members dropped their metal pipes, slumping against the bulkhead in sheer relief.

"Chairman Evren..." Captain Flint stared at Evren’s young face, stunned. "The new owner... you came out here yourself? On a small boat?"

"We heard the distress call," Evren said, walking toward the central console. "Are there any more creatures on board?"

"No," Captain Flint replied. "They came up the anchor chains an hour ago. We had a four-man security team, but Lord Prescott refused to pay for Awakener escorts, claiming Inspector Miller certified the route as safe. The guards burned through all their rifle rounds holding the lower gangway so the crew could reach the bridge. Two of them died on the deck... the other two are patched up in the back with torn shoulders."

Flint pointed toward a side cabin where two wounded men in tactical vests were sitting with bandaged arms.

"We were out of ammo, Chairman," Flint said, looking down at his empty flare gun. "If you had arrived five minutes later, they would have broken through the glass."

Flint wiped sweat and grease from his forehead. "Thank you, Chairman. Truly."

"What’s the status of the ship?" Evren asked.

"Engines are dead," Flint replied grimly. "Sea-water intake filters got clogged with mana slime from that mist. And when the power failed, the emergency stern anchor dropped automatically. The anchor dragged along the sea shelf and got hooked on a submerged rock reef right in the middle of the trench."

"The rift," Evren noted.

"Aye, the rift," Flint said bitterly. He walked to the navigation desk and pulled up the screen of the ship’s primary flight recorder. "We knew it was there, Chairman. We warned them."

Captain Flint opened the encrypted communication log.

Displayed on the screen were three separate emergency dispatches sent by the Sea-Goliath over the last forty-eight hours, reporting violent sonar spikes in the outer shipping channel.

Below the dispatches was the official response stamped by the Metropolis Guild Bureau:

[DISPATCH REVIEW: REJECTED]

[CLASSIFICATION: ROUTINE GEOTHERMAL SEISMIC NOISE]

[DIRECTIVE: MAINTAIN DESIGNATED SHIPPING CHANNEL]

[PENALTY NOTICE: FAILURE TO DOCK BY NOON WILL INCUR A $50,000.00 OBSTRUCTION FINE]

[SIGNING OFFICIAL: DISTRICT CHIEF INSPECTOR MILLER]

Evren’s eyes narrowed coldly as he read the screen.

"Miller," Evren said in a quiet tone.

"He threatened us with fines and license revocation if we altered our route," Flint said angrily. "He knew that trench was unstable, but he forced us to steer twenty thousand tons of ore straight into that fog just to save his own skin."

Captain Flint reached down to the navigation console, unlocked a small steel panel below the primary screen, and ejected a heavy-duty, black-box data cartridge.

"This is the ship’s official Voyage Data Recorder," Flint handed the drive to Evren. "It logs every sonar ping, radio transmission, and bureau dispatch with an immutable maritime timestamp. Miller’s signature is burned into the memory. He won’t be able to deny a single word."

Evren took the cartridge, slipping it into his jacket pocket. "That’s all the evidence we need. Inspector Miller is done. Now, how do we get this ship moving?"

"If we can cut the fouled anchor cable, the auxiliary diesel generators can be restarted from the bridge," Flint explained. "We can steer her on auxiliary power all the way to the pier."

"Show me the winch," Evren said.

Flint pointed out the window at the winch near the bow. A thick steel cable was pulled tight over the edge, vibrating from the anchor hooked sixty meters below.

Evren walked out onto the bridge wing, jumped down to the main deck, and approached the windlass.

He raised his right foot and brought his heel down on the tension clamp with a stomp. The reinforced steel clamp snapped under the force. The giant cable whipped loose with a loud SNAP, plunging into the dark ocean water.

Freed from the anchor, the massive freighter bobbed slightly on the surface.

Up in the bridge, Captain Flint hit the auxiliary starter switch.

CHUG-CHUG-CHUG... ROOOOAR.

The ship’s auxiliary turbines rumbled to life, sending a steady vibration through the steel floor. Overhead, the emergency navigation lights flickered and glowed amber.

Evren’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered.

"Chairman," Mikay’s voice came through. "Central Guild Bureau just processed Docket 902. Their regional sonar scanners pinged the trench sixty meters below the Sea-Goliath. They’ve officially classified it as a C-Rank Submerged Rift."

"A C-Rank," Evren said.

"Yes, Boss. The Bureau is asking if Apex Guild will clear the breach, or if they should dispatch an emergency naval team from the provincial capital."

Evren looked out over the dark water. An S-Rank Awakener diving sixty meters down to swat C-Rank crabs was completely unnecessary.

"Tell the Bureau that Apex Guild claims full clearing rights under our charter," Evren instructed calmly. "Then call Commander Derrick. Tell him to assemble the team and equip them with underwater mana gear. This C-Rank trench is their first live guild mission."

On the other end of the line, Mikay chuckled with excitement. "Understood, Boss! Commander Derrick and the recruits have been training around the clock. They’ll be thrilled to take the field. I’ll have them deployed at the harbor within thirty minutes."

"Good," Evren said. He hung up the phone and looked up at the wheelhouse.

Captain Flint was standing at the large ship’s wheel, smiling for the first time all day. "Captain Flint," Evren called out.

"Yes, Chairman?"

"Take the wheel," Evren said, leaning against the railing.