What… is going on? What is this?
His thoughts rippled through the cold emerald gloom, and then a primal, visceral panic surged.
"I didn't die… but became a DAMN... FISH!?"
He thrashed violently, his massive frame cutting through the water in wild, uncontrolled arcs. The calculated grace of a Sect Leader was gone, replaced by the raw,muscular power of a leviathan. He felt the weight of the ocean pressing against him, a heavy shroud that should have been his tomb, but had instead become his cradle.
"Is this reincarnation!? WHAT KIND OF NONSENSE IS THIS!?"
The memory of his unfair death burned inside his mind. He could still feel the phantom sting of Brork's blade and the icy chill of Luna's laughter. A second chance at life should have been a matter of justice—a return to flesh, a sword in his hand, a path back to the Storm Blade Sect.
"BUT A FISH!? REALLY!? A FISH!?"
His tail lashed like a whip of pure muscle, sending tremors through the silt below. His jaws snapped uselessly at the current, teeth clashing like stones. This went on for fifteen long minutes—a fever of rage, disbelief, and denial—until the sheer physical demand of his new form forced a hollow, crystalline clarity.
Finally, El-Mond stopped. The water grew still around him, a heavy veil of silence.
"…Sigh."
He looked down—no, he felt himself. He sensed the rows of razor teeth waiting in the dark like unsheathed daggers. He felt a colossal frame, every inch of it engineered for absolute, unyielding domination.
"So… I'm a great white shark, huh?"
Acceptance settled in like a heavy, freezing tide. Strangely, moving felt natural. Too natural. His body responded to his will as if it had always been his, the water becoming an extension of his own spirit. With a single flex of his core, he surged forward—smooth, powerful, and terrifyingly fast.
Ludicrous… I'm here like this… while those bastards are enjoying themselves.
Bitterness twisted his thoughts, cold as the deep currents. Then—
KILLING INTENT.
His senses, now sharpened by predatory evolution, screamed a warning. Something sharp and fast ripped through the water, cutting the current like a bolt of lightning.
METERS AWAY!
El-Mond twisted his massive body at the last possible second, a warrior's instinct guiding a monster's frame.
WHOOSH!
The projectile of displaced water tore past him with explosive force. His heart—huge and steady—thundered against his ribs. "I dodged…?"
Before he could steady his vision, the pressure shifted again.
IT CAME AGAIN.
Even faster. El-Mond reacted instinctively, his massive body shifting aside like flowing steel. He turned, his obsidian eyes searching the gloom for the intruder. From the depths, a silhouette emerged—a mountain of silver and shadow.
A voice—not a sound, but a deep vibration that hummed through the very marrow of his bones—invaded his mind.
"Either you surrender and leave this territory to me… or I take it and you become FISH FOOD."
The darkness parted. Another Great White Shark surfaced, scarred and dominant, its eyes burning with a primal, territorial hostility. "Huh!? WAIT—WHAT!?" El-Mond's thoughts fractured. "Did you just speak!?"
He didn't hear the words; he understood the intent. It was a telepathy of the deep, a language of ripples and blood.
"What are you playing at?" the beast hissed, circling with predatory grace. "Don't think you can talk your way out of this! FIGHT OR DIE!".
"Oh my god… I can understand fish?"
Shock barely had time to settle. The enemy charged, jaws wide like a gateway to the abyss. El-Mond dove sideways and BIT into its flank, using his momentum to hurl the massive predator forward. The ocean roared with the violence of the collision. The enemy recovered instantly and charged again, its speed doubling. El-Mond tried the same move—
WHAM!
A powerful, sandpaper-rough tail smashed into his face, dazing him. Teeth nearly tore into his fin, a hair's breadth from a crippling strike. He spun, stabilizing himself in the current. The two apex predators circled each other in a silence more deafening than any battle cry.
Then—the enemy exploded forward.
El-Mond did not retreat. He turned upward.
The surface.
He surged with everything he had. The water peeled away behind him as he accelerated into the light. Faster. Faster. The pressure dropped. The sun pierced the emerald ceiling of his new world, turning the water into a blinding white.
HE BREACHED.
So did the other shark. But mid-air, the soul of a Sect Leader took command. El-Mond twisted—a perfect, gravity-defying back-flip, a technique born of a thousand hours on the training grounds.
The enemy's back was exposed.
NOW.
El-Mond clamped down with terrifying force, his jaws locking like a vice as he dragged the struggling body back into the crushing, unforgiving depths. Blood clouded the water in a dark, blooming rose. The enemy thrashed wildly, jaws snapping in desperation, but El-Mond did not let go. He tightened his bite, feeling the life ebb out of the giant. One minute passed. Then—stillness. The struggle ceased. Death claimed the challenger.
El-Mond released the lifeless body and watched it drift toward the silt. Silence returned to the reef.
Then…
DING.
A glowing blue panel materialized before his eyes, its light ethereal and sharp against the dark.
[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]
Congratulations. Your body has evolved into an: APEX-LEVEL GREAT WHITE SHARK.
"…Huh?"
El-Mond stared at the floating screen in mute shock. The abyss around him seemed smaller now. Colder. And suddenly, it was full of a very dark, very bloody kind of possibility.