Diego narrowed his eyes as he watched the serpents writhe in the dark waters. Something was wrong with them—their movements were sluggish, out of sync. Holding up his communicator, he spoke, voice tinged with confusion.
"Driver, what's going on with those beasts? Are they hungover or something?"
There was a brief pause before Driver's voice crackled through the device. She sounded oddly excited—probably from watching her mobile suits in action.
"Yeah, there's definitely something off. Lady Cassie did some analysis—turns out all of them share the same attribute. [Marionette]."
"That's not too strange for beasts from the same brood," Diego muttered, frowning.
Driver continued, "Yeah, normally it wouldn't be weird. But this time? It's not the usual. This isn't a shared bloodline—it's control. Someone's pulling the strings."
A loud explosion echoed in the background, followed by a string of muffled curses.
"Anyway," she continued, "we need to find the puppeteer, Diego. But don't kill them—we need intel. You can cut off their limbs, though."
A grin stretched across Diego's face, even as the last remnants of his clothing burned away, leaving only scorched pants. His armor had melted minutes ago—annoying, but expected at this level of heat.
Shaking his head, he looked ahead. His eyes blazed—literally. Twin infernos flickered in his sockets, casting eerie reflections on the boiling waters. At this temperature, his flames didn't burn him, but he was approaching the threshold. Any hotter, and even he wouldn't walk away unscathed.
He grimaced, already feeling a creeping mental fatigue from the pain. But still, Diego didn't retreat. He kept raining hellfire down on the serpentine beasts, unwavering.
While he relished the fight, Diego knew his soldiers wouldn't last much longer. They weren't just facing abominations now. They'd be fighting people soon, too.
His gaze swept the river—and then he saw it.
Far ahead, maybe a kilometer or two, a cluster of small islands broke the flow of water. A perfect place to hide.
He narrowed his eyes. "So that's where the bastard is…"
Up in the sky, Hemera had heard everything through the comms—and through Diego. The moment he voiced his suspicion, she changed direction. No longer circling above the ship, she soared upward, then dove like a falling star.
Gravity pulled her down faster and faster, flames trailing in her wake as she hurtled toward the island. The impact was cataclysmic—fire erupted on landing, shaking the trees and hurling dust into the air.
Diego leapt from her back the moment she hit the ground, landing with practiced ease.
The island wasn't large—man-made, probably, no bigger than a village. Broken buildings lay scattered like bones, walls crumbling, roofs long gone. A ghost of a place. But something else was wrong. The silence was unnatural. The air felt off, and the faint winds only made it feel even more desolate.
Diego moved through the ruins with cautious steps, axe in hand, eyes scanning every shadow.
Above, Hemera flew in slow, wide circles, keeping watch. She eyed the empty shells of buildings, the layout, Diego's movements. Everything was going smoothly—until it wasn't.
Her eyes caught a flicker. A glint of something hidden. Wait... what was that—
"No! GET OUT OF—"
BOOM!
The ground exploded beneath his feet.
The blast sent Diego flying. He twisted midair, trying to stabilize—but crashed hard into a ruined wall, debris collapsing around him. Groaning, he rose, bloodied but alive. His axe flared in his grip, flames roaring to life.
And then he saw it.
The water behind the ruins began to shift. A ripple. A surge.
A giant head rose from the water—and in that instant, realization dawned.
It wasn't an island.
It had never been an island.
It was a colossal serpent. The "island" was its coiled body, submerged and camouflaged in the water.
Diego's expression twisted in grim realization.
He yanked up his communicator, voice dry and taut. "Driver, stop the ship! It's a trap! That's not land—it's a really, really big-ass Abomination. At the very least... a Fallen Tyrant!"
He didn't wait for a reply. His body erupted in flame, a blaze of radiant heat—and the communicator melted in his hand, disintegrating to ash.
There was no room for distractions now.
No time for hesitation.
Diego's mind burned clean—fear, pain, doubt—all cast aside. What remained was steel will, sharper than any blade, burning with one purpose: destroy this monster.
From above, Hemera swooped toward him, now fully grasping the truth.
The puppeteer had deliberately left a fallen tyrant here. Whoever they were… they were clever. Had they anticipated Lady Cassie detecting the shared Attribute?
No… Even without her, they would've figured it out eventually. The puppeteer's control wasn't perfect—the serpents' movements were awkward and imprecise. Clearly, they couldn't control this many abominations with finesse. So, they used that flaw to bait Ascendancy here, into a trap. Into the mouth of a monster.
it had been anyone else besides Diego and Hemera, they would've already been dead. No one would've warned the ship. The entire crew would have been swallowed whole.
Hemera's eyes blazed as she flew beside Diego, scanning the beast rising from the deep.
He turned to her, face grim.
"Don't let your guard down," he muttered. "This whole place... it's not just a battleground. I saw eggs scattered everywhere."
He clenched his jaw.
"I thought they were just marionettes waiting to hatch. But now... I know what this is."
His eyes locked onto the behemoth's, fire dancing in their depths.
"It's not an island. It's a damn nest."
The serpent was massive and terrifying, its alabaster scales gleaming faintly in the darkness—identical to the smaller serpents that had been attacking the ship. It was most likely a Fallen Tyrant—a class of nightmare creature capable of commanding lesser abominations it had spawned.
Diego considered the implications. Some spawn types perished when their Tyrant died, completely dependent on their creator to sustain them. Not all Nightmare Creatures were like that, but many were. These serpents likely wouldn't die immediately—but killing the Tyrant would leave them leaderless, disorganized and mindless.
Like an army without a general.
He took a breath of the cold, damp air and closed his eyes for a moment of stillness before the storm.
"Hemera," he said quietly. "I'm going all out. Stay alert—and heal me before I turn myself to ash."
The phoenix nodded silently, her brilliant feathers glowing with pride as she raised her head high, defiant against the abyss.
The serpent's emerald eyes ignited, casting a sickly glow as it studied its prey. Then, with a deep, rumbling hiss, it began to shift—its great body coiling, massive jaws opening wide. A thick green fog rolled out from its maw, and its dagger-like fangs gleamed with a mirrored sheen, wet with venom and rot.
Diego gripped his axe tightly.
In a flash, he vanished—only scorched footprints remained, burned into the ground. He soared into the air, a trail of fire behind him, and came crashing down with his axe, flames erupting on impact. A burning line was carved across the serpent's flesh, but it wasn't enough. The beast was resistant—its scaled hide shrugged off fire like a passing breeze.
Grimacing, Diego slammed his axe into the ground, unleashing a roaring wave of flame. The earth shook beneath the fury, and the serpent shrieked, more in irritation than in pain.
It wasn't enough.
The creature reared back, intending to ignore him and resume its mission—destroying the battleship.
Of course, this wasn't truly the serpent's will.
This was the puppeteer, controlling it from within. Even if the Tyrant possessed intelligence, it wouldn't be capable of such strategic thought—not without help.
Just as the beast began to move, a tortured screech escaped its maw.
Hemera's talons were buried in its eye.
Her talons had driven deep into one of its massive eyes—vulnerable and exposed. Its scales were nearly impenetrable, but the eyes were always a weakness.
While Diego had drawn its attention, Hemera had disappeared in a burst of cloud and flame. Serpents, especially those with side-placed eyes, had limited depth perception and a narrow forward field of view. They were easier to blind and flank.
Lich had taught her that.
The skeletal sorcerer had a habit of dissecting monsters, recording their weaknesses, and compiling that knowledge into a vast, handwritten encyclopedia of Nightmare Creatures.
Thanks to his research, Hemera knew the creature's weakness—and exploited it.
Diego had done his part perfectly, creating chaos and keeping its attention focused forward. From what Hemera knew, there were two types of serpents: Nocturnal and Diurnal.
Diurnal serpents saw better in daylight, but sudden bright lights—especially chaotic sources like flame—could cause stress, triggering withdrawal or defensive behavior. Nocturnal serpents, however, truly struggled in bright environments. They preferred shadows and stillness. The unpredictable glare of fire didn't blind them, but it confused them—scrambled their instincts.
This Tyrant? Definitely nocturnal.
Fire radiated intense, chaotic heat—overwhelming and erratic. That chaos could confuse their heat-sensing abilities. Not blind them completely, but disrupt them enough to render them vulnerable.
While neither Diego nor Hemera could yet deliver a killing blow, they could keep the beast blinded, distracted and of-balance. It couldn't catch them, and more importantly, it couldn't focus.
The poisonous mist billowing from its throat was useless here. Hemera could burn the toxins from her own bloodstream and regenerate instantly. Diego, on the other hand, was already burning—his body was so engulfed in flame that even the poison couldn't remain long enough to do real damage. It was incinerated along with everything else.
Still… there was a problem.
This Tyrant had greater stamina and endurance than either of them. It wasn't slowing down.
And it was only getting angrier.