Chapter 89: Ancient Beast Attack (1)

“Dam Ion,” Baba said.

“I know,” Ion replied.

He extended his hand, and a staff flew into it—loaned by the prince’s stranded mentor at the dock. Unlike the puzzled prince, the pink-haired knight, Fint, sensed the situation and stepped in front of Fevel.

But there was no need for her tension. The room held a dragon, a grand mage, and a presumed S-rank chimera. The mage—Ion—was fastest.

Ion swung the staff, erecting a soundproof barrier, then conjured tiny mana orbs, smaller than those used against Giants. Barely visible, they shot into the ceiling and door.

“Argh!”

“Ugh!”

Two masked figures, hidden by cloaking magic, appeared, writhing in agony. Likely stowaways, they’d snuck aboard after the strict passenger checks. Knowing they’d reveal nothing, as with prior encounters, Ion ended their lives without hesitation.

“Just these two,” Ion said.

Fint, still tense, used her scabbard to unmask them. “Ugh…”

“Know them?” Ion asked.

“No, unfamiliar faces. But… they’re different from the ones at the dock,” Fint said, her expression grim.

“I can gauge aura levels by looking at faces. The dock attackers weren’t awakened, but these are aura users—Expert rank,” she explained.

Ion understood her dismay. In Idea, awakened aura users were “just ones,” unlike Earth’s, refraining from evil acts. They strived to save the world, their title pushing them toward righteousness. Though rare, some, like these assassins, fell to cults.

“How does someone striving for the world end up in a cult?” Fint sighed, praying for their souls. Fevel peeked from the corner.

“Expert rank? Then… isn’t the royal guard in danger?” he asked.

The Deand royal guard, contacted by the Empire, awaited at the central island. Fearing Expert-rank assassins targeting them, Fint reassured, “Don’t worry, Your Highness. We’re strong—five aura masters and a grand mage. If we arrive safely, we’ll be fine.”

Fevel, trusting Fint, relaxed. But Ion had another concern: a traitor among the guard, possibly planted by Duke Clardis. Before boarding, Ion voiced this, but Fevel’s group insisted the guard, bound by loyalty oaths, would never betray the royal blood, even at swordpoint.

Ion thought oaths without aura or skill bindings were unreliable—humans were prone to betrayal. Their problem, not mine. At the island, they’d part ways: Ion to the Elidivi Mountains, them to Deand with the guard. Until then, Ion just needed to protect Fevel from assassins.

But assassins were nothing compared to the crisis awaiting the cruise ship the next day at noon.

Since morning, Ion stood on the deck, breathing lake air akin to sea breeze. On day one, the vast horizon cleared his mind, but now, accustomed to the scenery, his head remained heavy—perhaps because the World Tree loomed closer.

A tree at the world’s center, the source of mana. As a plant lover, Ion should’ve been thrilled, but…

Sigh…

He couldn’t help it. Killing Sevi’s master in front of them was nearing.

“Why the sigh, Dam Ion?” Sevi’s innocent voice called. The sleepless young dragon stood, holding Fevel and Fint’s hands, eyes wide in human form since no one was around. The prince and knight, unfazed by their babysitting role, greeted Ion warmly.

“Lord Ion, we’re heading to eat. Join us?” Fevel asked.

“No, I ate. Assassins could strike anytime, so stay with Sevi. Hold hands,” Ion said.

“Don’t worry. If we let go, Sevi’d scold us,” Fevel said, boldly patting Sevi’s head. Sevi giggled.

They turned to the dining hall. “Today, slather scones with strawberry jam. I want vanilla ice cream and coffee,” Sevi said.

“No coffee. Have warm milk,” Fint replied.

“Why not coffee? Because I’m residue?” Sevi asked.

“What? Coffee grounds aren’t for drinking. Coffee’s bitter for you. I’ll make tasty milk,” Fint said.

Their voices faded. Sevi meant, ‘Am I unworthy of coffee because I’m residue?’ Ion’s head throbbed.

Calling themselves residue and adoring their master… Ion realized his own situation wasn’t much different, his headache worsening. He’d ignored Saon’s cries that Teacher wasn’t a savior but an abusive kidnapper. Seeing a child marked by abuse brought Saon’s words back.

All three Breeders abused their disciples and shared the same appearance.

“Fragmentation”—what did Teacher’s journal note mean?

Ion leaned on the railing, rubbing his cheek against Sanse’s cool, long leaves, which seemed to comfort him.

“Dam Ion’s head hurt?” Baba climbed the leaves.

“Dam Ion keeps sighing,” Baba said.

“…”

“Don’t lean on the railing. Dangerous.”

“…”

“Dam Ion sad? Want me to yawn?”

“What’s my sadness got to do with your yawning?” Ion snapped.

Baba grinned, swaying. “Dam Ion likes me cute. Loves poking my mouth when I yawn. Makes you feel better.”

“Don’t like it. Doesn’t help,” Ion retorted.

“You do. Want me to yawn?”

“Do what you want. You’re not cute,” Ion grumbled.

Flap. A fearless seabird landed on the railing, eyeing Baba, cutting Ion off.

“Dam Ion, what’s this?” Baba asked.

“A bird.”

“What’s its name?”

“Dunno. Ask Jinseongha later.”

“Dam Ion’s mean to cute me.”

“You’re not cute!”

“Liar. You poked my mouth. I’m cute.”

“I’ll throw you in the lake—” Ion reached for Baba.

Hiss! The seabird opened its beak threateningly. Its maw stretched unnaturally, tentacles shooting out, its white body splitting with sticky ooze.

“Ancient beast! Get back!” a mercenary guard shouted. A peach-colored beast lunged tentacles at Ion and Baba.

Wooong— A flood siren-like alarm blared, startling even the lively banquet hall and restaurant.

Squish, squish. Peach-colored, arm-sized, octopus-like creatures with dorsal tentacles crawled onto the deck. Ion, shocked, thought, Tens of thousands? I didn’t sense them this close.

Was he distracted, or were these “Last Shadows” ancient beasts that stealthy?

Whoosh. Hugging Sanse tighter, Ion summoned a flame sword and swung. The threatening creature burned instantly. More swings, more incinerated. They’re weak? Comparable to B-rank beasts.

“‘Mimic Snails’! Immobilize them and harvest their fluid!” a mercenary shouted.

“Team 2, find the leader! Team 3, protect passengers!”

“Immobilization circle deployed! Lure them here!”

The transport company had hired three skilled aura user teams. A mage’s circle slowed the snails, melee fighters dispatched them, and support collected fluids.

As coordinated as Special Team 1, Ion thought, recalling them. They’d pained him with personal stories while asking for reward translations, but they were good people. Initially clashing, they quickly united, their drive to save Earth reflecting their kind hearts.

Not sure about the masked member, though. Ion suspected Shin Minji, close to Hong Insu and Bae Younghoe, but trusted she wouldn’t harm them.

Hiss! Splat! Ion kept slaying snails amid stray thoughts.

“Who’s that guy?” a mercenary whispered.

“A passenger’s hired aura mage?”

“Not a swordsman? He’s swinging a sword.”

“It’s a magic-enhanced sword. Pretty skilled.”

“Dam Ion!” Sevi, as a silver parrot, flew up mid-battle—not fleeing danger but excited. “Are these ancient beasts? So cute! Can I keep one?”

“No way. Where’s the prince?” Ion asked.

“In the room, safe. I sealed it with magic. Can I keep one? They’re adorable,” Sevi said.

“Absolutely not.” What kind of aesthetic sense is this? Sevi, disappointed, perched on Sanse’s pot. Baba patted Sevi with a wing.

“Leader!” a mercenary shouted. “The Mimic Snail boss appeared!”

Whoosh! A shadow loomed as a massive wave crashed onto the deck. Ion swung his flame sword in a ring, evaporating the spray. What emerged wasn’t a snail but a colossal octopus-like beast.