Turning Chapter 948

At the same time, in the deep sea.

Yuder Aile was gazing upward—toward the distant place above—where the aftermath of a massive tremor had just passed.

So my theory was right... The real question is how quickly Kishiar understood that and acted on it.

A colossal monster trying to emerge from beyond six fissures—Yuder had come up with the idea of dividing its swarm-like mass into smaller pieces just before sending Steber up, when he had managed to block the large tremor.

Amid the sea currents thrashing so violently they felt like they could shatter bones, Yuder had protected his team members by any means necessary. Then, he had spotted something drifting nearby—something unfamiliar.

At first, he thought it was just a dead fish, jellyfish, or a piece of torn seaweed caught up by the tremor’s wake. After all, the fierce current had already scattered plenty of similar debris all around them.

Without much thought, he waved it aside—but then, he felt something strange.

That sensation—the sudden drain of strength from his body, the rising nausea. Yuder knew exactly what that meant.

A monster?

When one came into contact with a monster—or even the remnants of one—it brought an intense sense of revulsion, as if all the strength in one’s body was draining away. Even if one wore magical protective gloves, the result was the same. The sensation might dull slightly, but it wouldn’t be prevented. If it could be, Yudrain Aile would’ve surely covered his body with such protections in his past life.

Even just grazing it for a moment left one with a bone-deep, chilling sense of dissolution—as if every part of one’s being was unraveling like mist. Yuder had flinched and yanked his hand back instinctively, but then he grabbed the object and began to examine it.

Without his light-emitting bracelet, it took him a moment longer to confirm—but yes, it was a monster. More precisely, it looked like a piece torn from the very monster ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) that had caused the recent massive tremor.

Why is this here...?

Frowning, Yuder carefully turned over the transparent, jelly-like lump that clung to his hand like mud.

I didn’t expect to touch something like this... Even with gloves, it feels awful. Was it torn off while trying to come through the fissure?

Just as that thought crossed his mind, the thing in his hand twitched.

His body reacted faster than his mind. A small blade slipped from his sleeve and stabbed directly into the lump, piercing it repeatedly. The piece of monster went limp and completely lost strength.

Clutching the now shredded thing tightly, Yuder looked down.

...That wasn’t a hallucination. It really moved, didn’t it?

“Yuder!”

By then, the rest of the team—now fully alert—were pushing through the debris around them with force, swimming closer. Though the violent currents had caused minor sprains or bruises, no one appeared seriously injured, much to their relief.

Yuder, it’s thanks to you. I tried to channel power toward the monster, too, but if I’d miscalculated even slightly... I might’ve died.

Me too. I knew it would be disorienting in the deep sea, but not this bad.

What’s that you’re holding? A weapon?

Turning to the members hesitating to pat his shoulder, Yuder formed words with his lips.

Monster.

...What?!

Startled, one of them briefly lost focus on their protective energy, and a string of bubbles escaped from their lips. As they fumbled and got tangled in a long strand of seaweed, Steber stepped in.

Whoa there. Gotta be careful.

With a silent exertion of his power, water sliced through the seaweed around the member’s hand, cleanly severing it before vanishing.

— Ssshh...

Thanks, Steber.

Don’t mention it.

Watching the exchange, Yuder looked down again at the piece of monster in his hand. It was about palm-sized and soft to the touch, making it difficult to identify its shape, but if one examined closely, some edges of the lump appeared clean-cut—smooth, as if sliced by a finely sharpened blade.

Now I understand.

Yuder wasn’t the only Awakener here, of course.

He hadn’t directed any attacks at the monster, focusing entirely on protecting his teammates. If he had tried to attack it directly, he would’ve needed to use several times his usual power just to achieve results close to his normal output—so he had rightly saved his strength to protect others.

Meanwhile, the other members, while being protected, had unleashed their powers freely to stop the monster in any way they could. It was the right move—using their abilities offensively was far more efficient than it would’ve been for Yuder alone.

When someone with control over water needs to attack underwater, the most effective method is the one Steber just used: hardening a part of the water into a sharp blade and launching it. It doesn’t require separate weapons, can deliver lethal wounds instantly, and—being water—it’s hard for the enemy to detect. They had trained until they could perform it with their eyes closed, so it wasn’t surprising that this was the attack most frequently used in a crisis.

The aim may have been rough, and not many attacks would’ve reached the deep-sea fissure where the monster was lurking—but it seemed some stray force had indeed managed to slice something off.

An unexpected result. But thanks to it, Yuder had a moment of sudden, illuminating clarity.

That monster... isn’t a single lifeform. Just because it’s one mass doesn’t mean it has only one life.

Monsters were inherently unpredictable. Just because tens of thousands of small monsters had merged into one body didn’t mean they shared a single life.

And it was far easier to fight—and kill—dozens of small fragments than a single behemoth that made the ground tremble and the sea scream with each movement. After all, hadn’t that palm-sized lump just now died easily from a small dagger?

Then what if we wait for the right moment and combine our strength to slice up those tentacle-like masses emerging from the fissure?

If Yuder focused on support and protection from the rear, the members he brought here might just be enough to manage it. He ran through their remaining powers and strengths in his mind, visualizing them concentrating their forces on the tentacles.

Knowing the members’ capabilities better than they knew themselves, Yuder could say—this was risky, yes, but far from impossible.

Yes. Slicing it apart is definitely doable. But killing the fragments... that’s where things get tricky. We’d have to split our forces.

But what if he took the lead in pushing the sliced fragments toward the surface?

If he could be certain that Kishiar and the others waiting above would handle them, then all they’d need to do here was focus on slicing and pushing.

Rather than wasting energy trying to kill barely visible fragments or spreading their strength too thin, it would be easier to manipulate the current. After all, wherever it flowed, the sea always ended up moving toward land.

Giving that natural force just a little push didn’t seem difficult for Yuder. He wasn’t trying to ignite fire underwater or otherwise defy nature. A large-scale effort, perhaps—but not impossible.

And then Yuder recalled something perfectly apt—one of the stories Kishiar had shared with him while he was recovering after two weeks of unconsciousness. Among those conversations had been a metaphor drawn from Kishiar’s thoughts on the day of hail.

Yes. The scale.

Like balancing a scale, if they could all coordinate their timing—slow but precise—they might face a longer battle, but one that required less effort overall. With luck, perhaps even the abnormal fissure might vanish mid-battle, just as it had that day.

The shift between sea and surface. Between the members waiting above and those down below. The timing of the monster’s next violent thrashing.

His thoughts raced, clarity striking like lightning.

Yuder made his decision.

Steber.

Hm?

I need you to head up. Then all the way to the surface.

...Alone?

Yes. Please.

Kishiar would understand Yuder’s intentions with just a few words and gestures.

After a decision came trust. Then came the wait. And Yuder Aile now knew how to accept that waiting—simply as it was.