Viktor lay back on the boat, his arms folded behind his head, eyes fixed on the shining ceiling high above. The vessel drifted forward, carried by the waves, each rise and fall matching the rhythm of the mermaid’s song.

  He didn’t say a word. Just lay there, unmoving, gaze distant. He showed no reaction, even as the final note lingered, then faded into the background hum of the surrounding water.

  “Master?”

  Viktor shifted, pushing himself up. He looked over at the mermaid. “What?”

  “Don’t you have any comment?”

  He gave a slight shrug. “It’s alright, I guess.”

  “Just alright?” Fianna pouted. She looked visibly disappointed. “You don’t think it’s... a bit more than that?”

  “Well, your singing is good,” he said. “But I don’t really like songs about heroes. They’re just pure fantasies.”

  Fianna tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “There are no heroes in this world. Only the strong and the weak. The ones who dictate and the ones who obey. The ignorant masses who can’t comprehend that fact invented heroes and villains to make themselves feel better about their lives.”

  Viktor glanced at the mermaid, smirking at the confusion in her jewel-bright eyes. “They say that the heroes will prevail, and the villains will be vanquished. Hah! It’s true. Of course it’s true. After all, only the ones who win get to call themselves heroes. They write the stories. They bury those who have lost and brand them villains. And the dead, well, they don’t get to argue, do they?”

  “Master,” Fianna said gently, looking at him with a concerned gaze. “You must have had a very rough life to be this cynical.”

  Well, that was something he couldn’t refute.

  “So, what was the song about again? Sounded like some warrior guarding a bridge or something.”

  Fianna perked up immediately, like a little girl who was asked about her favorite story. “Yes, it’s the Ballad of the Guardian of the Bridge, the hero who protected the entrance to the Realm of the Gods. In the Final Battle, he held the line against countless invaders. He fought alone, guarding the bridge, even when the odds seemed impossible. In the end, his archenemy arrived to challenge him. They clashed, and they killed each other.”

  Viktor chuckled. “So he died, huh? What’s the point of winning if you end up in the dirt?”

  “Master...” Fianna said, her cheeks puffed slightly. “The invaders were repelled. The entrance remained secure. He had fulfilled his duty.”

  Viktor’s smirk didn’t fade. “Ah, yes. The heroic sacrifice, right? How inspiring.” He leaned back, glancing at the mermaid. “You’re pretty fond of this guy, aren’t you?”

  Fianna’s eyes lit up. “I am,” she said with a smile. “Sacrificing yourself to protect what you hold dear is kind of romantic, don’t you think?”

  Maybe, if you’re into poetically tragic endings.

  Personally, he preferred a different approach, one that involved identifying any potential threat early, then crushing it thoroughly to make sure things never got bad enough to require a noble last stand. Much less dramatic, yes, but far more efficient.

  “Besides, he and I are related by blood, by the way.”

  “What?”

  “The myth says that the Guardian of the Bridge was born from the Daughters of the Sea...”

  “The Daughters of the Sea?”

  “Yes. They are daughters of the Storm Titan, the God of the Sea. In their veins flows the power of the ocean itself, which they inherit from their father. The myth also says that one of the Daughters gave birth to the first mermaid, and we are her descendants. That’s why...” Fiana lifted her hand, and a sphere of water rose from the surface, hovering in the air in front of her. “We can command the water as we wish, since it is a power passed down from the Storm Titan through our ancestors.”

  Viktor chuckled. “Your male counterparts are also descendants of the Storm Titan, are they not? The same blood runs through their veins. But unlike you, the mermen wield no magic. The gods sure have a funny way of showing favoritism, don’t they?”

  “Well,” Fianna said, scratching her head. It seemed she had never thought of that. “Maybe... the males and females get different gifts. The mermen are big and strong, just like the Guardian of the Bridge.”

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  “If you say so,” Viktor said, totally unconvinced.

  After all, it was just a myth. In other words, pure fiction. There was no existing evidence to support the claim that the merfolk were descended from a god. Again, it was just another made-up story people invented to make themselves feel better.

  On the other hand, the reality was that no mage in this world could control water. Fire and wind, yes, but water, no. It was beyond human reach. Yet these creatures, who were summoned from a different world, could manipulate water at will. They wielded a type of magic that no human spellcaster had access to.

  That was a fact Viktor had realized a long time ago, when he was still an adventurer. After observing them use their abilities, he recreated the effects using his Thaumaturgy, which gave him an edge on the water floors of the dungeons. He only stopped doing that trick after getting his hands on some Reliquaries that allowed him to achieve the same results.

  “All mermaids have that power, right?” Viktor asked. “And it’s from birth? Not something that can be learned or taught?”

  “Well, the power only manifests once we reach a certain age. And mothers do need to teach their daughters how to use it effectively. But yes, it’s in our blood. We can’t pass it on to people of other races. Not even to the mermen.”

  So the water manipulation power was indeed a blood-bound ability. Their magic wasn’t learned; it was innate. It was different from the one wielded by human mages, who could choose one of the disciplines and then spend years mastering the arts. Technically, anyone could become a mage. Most just either didn’t have the opportunity or weren’t willing to put in the effort.

  Now that he thought about it, the so-called Acolytes of the Deep could also command water, and according to Celeste, that power was something bestowed upon them by the god they worshipped.

  Gods again, huh?

  He turned to the mermaid. “What do you think of your new neighbors?”

  “Those creepy guys?” Fianna made a face like she had swallowed something rotten. “I don’t like them. We merfolk and they don’t mingle with each other.”

  Viktor chuckled softly. “Well, I know that their looks are not exactly appealing.”

  “It’s not just their looks, Master,” the mermaid said, her voice filled with revulsion. “Everything about them feels wrong, just wrong. Besides...”

  “Besides?”

  “From what I’ve heard, what they worship is a dark and terrible god. He is someone the Storm Titan would definitely consider an enemy. If they ever cross paths, the Titan will destroy him without any hesitation.”

  A dark and terrible god, huh? If he remembered correctly, those creatures called their god the Great One of the Deep. An ominous title, to say the least. It evoked the image of some ancient horror that lurked at the depths of the sea.

  And the name reminded him of something else.

  Something he didn’t want to be reminded of.

  The Eyes of the Abyss.

  He shook his head, pushing the thought away. “What makes you think that their god is malevolent? What has he done?”

  “He wants to create an endless ocean where he reigns over all,” Fianna said, her face serious. “He’ll raise the sea and drown the entire world. All life on land will perish.”

  “I can see why land-dwellers aren’t too fond of the idea, but how does that concern you?” Viktor asked. “You and your kin won’t be harmed. In fact, a bigger sea would be good for you, wouldn’t it?”

  The mermaid frowned. “You don’t need to be hurt directly to know that something is wrong. Master, killing all lives is wrong, just wrong,” she said, her voice sharper than usual. “While we merfolk indeed have mistrust of those living on land, and we don’t like them intruding on our territory, we do not wish for their extermination. The same can be said for the Storm Titan. He is harsh, but fair. And he does not discriminate between those he rules and those he does not. The god the Acolytes worship is the complete opposite. He is nothing but a devourer who wants to consume everything. Someone like that is just a false god.”

  A devourer who wants to consume everything, huh? Viktor thought. That, again, triggered some unwanted memories.

  “One day, the Abyss will consume us all,” his old master had said. Well, three hundred years had passed, and the world hadn’t changed one bit. Still the same rat race, with everyone clawing at each other for scraps. There were only winners and losers. No great evil threatening to destroy the world, and no heroes to stop them. So he guessed the old man was wrong.

  Fianna continued using her power to steer the boat through the waters of the third floor. But she no longer spoke. Was she upset? Because his belief didn’t align with hers? Well, he couldn’t care less. She was just a minion, a tool for him to use. He only needed her and her kind to defend his dungeon. Nothing more, nothing less. Her opinions, and her feelings, were utterly irrelevant.

  The same went for the Acolytes of the Deep. The only thing that mattered was that they followed his orders. As long as they fought to repel the intruders, he didn’t give a damn about their beliefs, their customs, or whatever gods they bowed to. They were pawns, just like all other pawns.

  [Master.]

  Viktor’s eyes narrowed as he received the sudden message from the Dungeon Core. “What’s the matter?”

  [A party has reached the end of the first floor, and they are about to descend the staircase. I suggest you stay away until the situation is resolved.]

  He allowed himself a smile. Finally, someone else other than Cedric’s and Manfred’s party. However, they were going to have a very unpleasant surprise.

  “We have a Cyclops under the staircase, don’t we?”

  [Yes, Master.]

  A welcome party for anyone who passed the first floor. Let’s see how they handle the one-eyed brute.

  “Fianna, stop the boat!”

  “Master?” The mermaid tilted her head, staring at him with a curious gaze.

  “The intruders have reached the second floor, and the Cyclops is about to engage them. We’ll wait here until the fighting ends.”

  “Understood.”

  As the boat came to a halt, Viktor closed his eyes, sweeping his vision forward. This was the first battle of the newly summoned minion. There was no way he was going to miss it.

  Upon his arrival, the figures of three adventurers came into view. A large, heavily armored man. A robed woman, probably a mage. And a tall, slender man holding a crossbow. Did this party only have three people, or had they already lost someone on the previous floor?

  It didn’t matter. The Cyclops let out a roar.