Chapter 13: Leviathan

**Leviathan**

[The Cost of Unseen Love]

*Did they truly expect me to bend the sea king, that monstrous behemoth, to my will?* I mused, staring out at the blur of passing scenery from the train bound for the port. *It's like a child asking his father to tame a wild lion as a pet.*

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips, as absurd as the request itself. With a weary shake of my head, I tucked the commissioner's quest into the depths of my space storage. Letting my head fall back against the plush headrest, I allowed my thoughts to spiral inward, pondering the daunting road ahead.

*First things first, I need to understand the quest, the nature of it. This assignment verges on S-rank, yet why did Leviathan ascend?* That question loomed like a dark storm cloud, casting its shadow over the mission. The truth would reveal itself when I met the commissioner and dug deeper into the heart of this mystery. But as with all things of this nature, there was a distinct possibility that I was being misled, or worse—fed lies. Could there be a conspiracy behind this, as there was with the previous assignment? It would be foolish not to prepare my mind for every possibility, even the unsettling ones.

Mental preparation, I reminded myself, was as essential as physical readiness. To face the unknown with calm clarity, to make decisions without the fog of panic clouding my judgment—that was the key to survival.

*Leviathan... I've heard of creatures like it, the legendary sea kings. Tales swirl in every corner of the world, some as vivid as the blue of the ocean itself. In one world, the stories are told of them, brimming with power, uncontrollable and majestic. In another, like in *Fairy Tail*, they speak of them never ascending—never, unless something truly catastrophic stirs beneath the surface. And Leviathan... it's no mere myth. It resides just above the deepest abyss of the ocean, hidden from the surface world, a silent sentinel in the darkness.*

But there had to be a reason for its sudden rise. Things like this didn't happen without cause.

*Leviathan isn't just a monster—it's a being of incredible intelligence, cunning, and ancient wisdom, on par with the likes of the octopus, they say. And though it might not walk the path of beasts, it shares lineage with the Kraken, that primordial terror of the deep. A creature not bound by the laws that govern ordinary beasts. This was no mere beast to be tamed.*

I leaned back further, lost in my thoughts, each twist and turn of the journey reflecting the mysteries that lay ahead.

According to ancient tales, octopuses once grew as large as great ships, their monstrous forms cutting through the waves like floating islands. Over time, however, they dwindled, devolving into mere shadows of their former selves, shrinking to the size of a coin, no more than a flicker beneath the water's surface. But was that truly the case? Was that tale as genuine as the shifting tides?

The common understanding, it seemed, had a fatal flaw. Octopus species weren't confined to a single type, yet this misconception had wormed its way into myth. It was like saying a dragon could only breathe fire—an absurdity, for dragons were creatures of many elements. They soared through the sky, wielded the power of metal, of coal, each one vast and unique, their size and nature molded by their elemental affinity. The same applied to the octopus. Why then, did people insist that an octopus was nothing more than a Kraken's devolved form?

But the truth was simpler, if not more complicated in its nuances. The Kraken, a giant octopus, was merely a term for a creature that grew to an unimaginable size. An octopus, on the other hand, was a general term for a multitude of species—common octopuses, California octopuses, Caribbean ones, each distinct in its own right. To equate them all under one singular banner of "Kraken" was an error borne of ignorance.

It was the same with Leviathan, the name itself a title bestowed upon a creature of great size, a giant sea serpent that had slithered its way into legend. And much like Krakens, Leviathans were regarded as sea kings, their majesty and power setting them apart from the rest of their kind. A giant eel, a monstrous stonefish—anything of notable size or power could be called a sea king. *It's all such a futile exercise in categorization,* I mused, a quiet frustration bubbling beneath my calm exterior.

That said, there had to be a reason for Leviathan's sudden ascent from the depths. A reason that eluded me, yet whispered tantalizingly in the back of my mind. I had my suspicions—wild, fleeting thoughts that fluttered like shadows at the edge of my understanding—but they were nothing more than whispers until I could confirm them with facts. And to do that, I needed details. Information. I needed to investigate.

After what felt like an eternity of travel, the port finally loomed on the horizon, a sprawling city bathed in the scent of salt and the promise of fish. This was the heart of the seafood trade, a capital built on the bones of the sea. The commissioner, I knew, was the owner of a fishing pond—an unremarkable position for a man caught up in such a mysterious venture. Yet finding him would not be difficult. Where, after all, would you expect to find a fisherman if not by the water's edge? Perhaps on the moon, I thought wryly, but that was another thought altogether.

**Sea Snake Port**

I approached a solitary figure standing on the fishing bridge, the man's silhouette etched against the sprawling expanse of water. His stillness was almost otherworldly, as if he were a part of the landscape itself, patiently waiting for a fish to take the bait. But in truth, his focus seemed less on the lake and more on something distant, something beyond the horizon. As I drew closer, I introduced myself.

"Hello, are you the commissioner? My name is Kyoka Suigetsu, a wizard from Fairy Tail. I'm here regarding the commission."

The man stiffened at my approach, startled, his gaze flickering over me with a touch of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes slightly, scanning me up and down. "A kid...?" he muttered, his tone a mix of confusion and skepticism.

*Kid?* I silently scoffed, restraining myself from a snide remark. *I may appear young, but I'm older than you and your ancestors combined.* Without a word, I slid off my black gloves and revealed the Fairy Tail emblem on my hand, a quiet declaration of my strength.

"I may look like a child," I said, my voice firm but calm, "but I'm a powerful wizard and swordsman. Besides, the president of our guild wouldn't have sent me here if I wasn't capable. Now, if you could, please tell me more about the commission."

The man paused, clearly taken aback, but after a beat, he relented. "Fair enough..." With a slow, deliberate motion, he reeled in his line, the gentle click of the bail echoing across the bridge. It wasn't until then that I noticed—the hook was bare, no bait at all.

*Fishing without bait?* I mused, the truth dawning on me. *A distraction, perhaps, or just a way to pass time.*

I waited in silence as he slowly turned his attention back to me, clearly preparing himself to speak of the matter at hand.

"Actually," he began, his voice somber, "a few weeks ago, day and night, a sea monster began appearing, attacking with relentless fury. It destroyed boats, ravaged the port, and left nothing but chaos in its wake." He paused, as if weighing the significance of his words. "No one was killed, but the destruction has crippled our harvest. Some of the fishermen left, while others... they've begun to fight for what little remains."

I nodded thoughtfully, piecing together the story. "So, the destruction of the port caused business to collapse, and with no resources left, the fishermen turned against one another. I imagine the strain has driven them to desperation—families to feed, territories to protect. It's a sad, inevitable spiral." He gave me a subtle nod of agreement.

I continued, my voice steady, but the weight of the truth settled in. "You've commissioned me to subjugate Leviathan, but let's be clear. This isn't an ordinary mission. The rank is A-rank, yes, but with the sheer power of the Leviathan, it wouldn't be a stretch to call this an S-rank task—or even an SS-rank, considering the monster's true nature."

A tremor seemed to run through the man's pupils at the mention of the creature's name, his face falling into a shadow of despair. "Is there nothing you can do about it...?" His voice cracked with the weight of his plea. "I'll pay anything. Please, do something about this sea king..."

I watched as he sank to his knees before me, his desperation tangible, as though the last thread of hope had unraveled before his eyes. Without a word, I placed a light hand on his shoulder, offering a sense of quiet reassurance.

"Don't worry," I said softly, my voice unwavering, "I've already accepted the commission. The only way it fails is if I'm dead. As long as I'm breathing, I will get this done."

Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of us, bound by the gravity of his gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, the words barely audible, but full of a sincerity that cut deeper than any storm.

"Having said that, could you provide me with the location of the destroyed port?" I asked, my mind already whirring as I began to analyze the situation. As I sifted through the pieces, a certain understanding settled in. In the world of business, there are two primary ways to increase profit—or perhaps I should say, to achieve success. One can innovate, creating a product of greater value. The other, a far simpler, more pragmatic approach, involves reducing competition.

At first, I entertained the notion that this could be the work of some shadowy cartel of wealthy tycoons, using the destruction of these ports to monopolize the region. But the location of the attacks suggested something else entirely. These weren't strikes against the large, thriving centers of commerce—they were aimed at smaller, mid-tier ports. To put it bluntly, it was like spending thousands to earn only a few dollars in return. It was a strategy bound for failure, which caused the theory of a businessman conspiracy to crumble under its own weight.

Why would the wealthy target the small-time players? Moreover, according to the reports, their business remained stable, even thriving, despite fierce competition. The more I thought about it, the more the mystery deepened.

*So what's really driving the destruction of these ports?* I thought to myself, turning the question over in my mind like a worn coin. The answer would reveal itself when I arrived at the scene.

After a few more moments of silent reflection, I arrived at the closest port—according to the report, it had been attacked three days ago. The damage wasn't catastrophic, but the devastation was undeniable. It would take effort and funds to rebuild, assuming one had the resources to do so. I paid little attention to the ruined buildings, though. My gaze was fixed on the fishing pond, the heart of this port's livelihood.

*Bingo…*

There it was, hidden beneath the surface—a strange substance I hadn't expected. I leaned closer, inspecting it with narrowed eyes. "Just as I suspected," I murmured, "someone has been deliberately poisoning the fish pond."

The pond, though branching into various channels, was all connected to the sea, feeding into it like the veins of a living creature. The substance had been introduced where the water flowed into the center, and from there, the Leviathan—a likely guardian of these waters—would sense the disturbance, a call to arms against a perceived threat.

I pulled out the town map, scouring every inch with meticulous precision, not allowing a single detail to slip by unnoticed. "No factories…," I muttered under my breath. At first, I had suspected chemical waste from an industrial facility, but to my surprise, there wasn't a single factory in sight, nor any sign of harmful waste being dumped into the water.

"The businessman must have taken steps to prevent the creation of such a facility," I deduced, my thoughts sharpening. "So, the cause must be either man-made or magical."

I focused on detecting any traces of magic. The sensation was faint, but unmistakable. There was something lingering in the air, something undeniably arcane.

"So that's it, then…" I whispered to myself, as the pieces of the puzzle slid into place. Someone—likely a wizard—was deliberately stirring up trouble. But why target the small players, the ones who had no real power to resist? *The chances of them being able to contend with the bigger players are slim, considering the power of the magic involved. They're not foolish enough to take on such giants directly.* Yet the more I considered the possibilities, the more the situation grew murkier.

With the power of this wizard, they could easily have poisoned the influential businessmen and slipped away unnoticed, leaving no trace. I visited other locations, each one revealing more evidence that the same hand was behind it all. The wizard's trail was clear.

"This is going to be difficult," I muttered, my frustration rising.

I couldn't suppress a weary sigh. I had just finished a grueling battle—barely emerging victorious over a foe skilled in long-distance bombardment. Her destructive magic and teleportation abilities had pushed me to my limits. Now, I was faced with another wizard—this one wielding a poison so potent that it could cripple entire industries.

"One challenge after another," I muttered under my breath. "It's going to be hard, but not impossible. First, though, I need to deal with Leviathan."

With that thought, I turned my attention back to the port, setting my jaw. I would need to make serious preparations for what lay ahead.

**A Few Hours Later**

As we drifted idly near the bridge, I turned to the man and asked, "Are you familiar with proverbs?"

"Pro birds? Is that some kind of profession in flying?" he replied, the confusion in his voice palpable. The man, though the owner of the fishing pond, was clearly a small-timer, his grasp on anything beyond his immediate business rather tenuous. I hadn't expected a meaningful conversation, but the quiet of the boat and the slow, rhythmic motion of the water had stirred something in me. My reasons for being here were more calculated than they appeared. If the one responsible for the disturbances was deliberately causing chaos, he might target this place. Though the odds were slim, I had to stay vigilant, which is why I had chosen the cleanest, most untouched pond. It was a mere deduction—nothing more, nothing less.

I stifled a chuckle at his response. "Proverbs are traditional sayings," I explained patiently, "They express truths, often metaphorical, based on common experience or wisdom passed down through generations."

I hopped off the boat and made my way toward the fishing pond. Selecting a rod at random, I attached bait and cast it into the water. It didn't take long before I felt a sharp tug. With practiced ease, I reeled in a fish, lifting it gently from the water as it wriggled in resistance.

"Imagine you're hungry," I said, my gaze fixed on the flailing fish. "What would you do?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly thinking my question somewhat ludicrous. "I'm going to eat… obviously."

I smiled inwardly at his simplicity, letting the moment breathe before continuing. "But, can you find food anywhere?" I asked, removing the hook from the fish's mouth before releasing it back into the pond. It swam away, unscathed.

The fisherman's brow furrowed as he processed my question. I didn't wait for a response, instead pressing on. "You can't find food just anywhere. Even in a fishing pond like this, the catch is limited."

"Besides," I added with a knowing look, "Are you sure the food you find is always edible? After all, not everything in the sea is meant for human consumption."

He stared at me, his earlier mockery now replaced by genuine curiosity. "So, what are you trying to say?"

I raised my gaze to meet his, letting the weight of my next words settle in. "Let's say this fishing pond is your property. Do you have an issue with me fishing here?"

He nodded without hesitation. "No, of course not. This pond is here for anyone to use. It generates income for me, after all. If I didn't allow people to fish, what would be the point?"

"Exactly," I agreed, "But…" I paused, casting the rod into the water once more. His eyes followed my actions with intent, searching for meaning behind every movement I made.

*How admirable,* I thought, though I knew it was only an illusion of understanding.

"Let's say that the rod I just cast is garbage—a piece of refuse that's slowly destroying your pond. How does that make you feel?"

He flared up immediately. "I'd be furious! Why would you do that to my pond? If the pond's destroyed—"

I interrupted him gently, my smile turning somber as I gazed out at the water. "There's a well-known proverb: *Don't bite the hand that feeds you.*"

The impact of my words was immediate. His eyes widened, pupils constricting in a mix of shock and realization.

"That's the reason," I continued, my voice steady but laced with gravity, "Your… no, to be honest, not just you, but others around here, are responsible for provoking the sea king."

"Could you explain?" he asked, his tone now more serious, the mockery gone entirely.

I nodded, my gaze unwavering. "I told you that food in the sea is limited, but that doesn't mean it'll vanish overnight. The fish, like us, need to breed to sustain their population. I'm sure you understand the basics of business. You've created this fishing pond, which provides a space for fish to feed, breed, and be caught. It's a well-managed, self-sustaining environment, but what about the other environments out there?"

I paused, watching the ripples in the pond as I allowed the weight of my words to settle. "If we overfish, if we destroy the sea's natural habitat, eventually there will be no fish left—not just the ones we eat, but the entire ecosystem will collapse."

His face paled as I turned to meet his eyes, my tone turning serious. "What do you think happens when the sea is destroyed?"

He shuddered visibly. "I… I don't want to think about it."

The destruction of the sea was a thought too terrifying to entertain, and rightly so. But what if it wasn't just Leviathan causing the chaos? What if something even worse were lurking beneath the waves?

I smiled softly, knowing full well the gravity of the situation. "I'll deal with the sea king, but for now, I need you to shut down the fishing pond temporarily. I'm going to clean up the mess caused by the one who's poisoning the sea."

He nodded, his face solemn, understanding the seriousness of my words. But I wasn't done. My voice took on a more measured tone as I continued. "The food that sea kings eat is not something we can consume. The reason why Leviathan has ascended is because someone is deliberately poisoning not just the fish humans rely on, but also the sea king's food. This poison lingers, affecting the entire sea, slowly destroying it."

I looked him in the eye, my voice dropping to a near whisper. "Leviathan's role isn't just to protect the sea; it's to prevent the ascension of other sea kings, and to stop humans from causing irreparable harm. It can't leave, so it's attacking the port, trying to send a message to you all."

I let the silence stretch for a moment before adding, "Don't bite the hand that feeds you."

**"ROAR!"**

Just as I finished explaining the truth of the sea's delicate balance, the earth-shaking roar reverberated through the air, clawing its way into the fabric of the moment. The sound was deafening, an ominous warning of the beast's arrival.

"Looks like my calculations were slightly off," I muttered, my voice drowned by the thundering roar that tore through the sky.

The monstrous Leviathan had arrived.

I could feel the deep tremor in the earth beneath my feet as I sprinted towards the port, my heart pounding in time with the distant crashes of chaos. "It's here… finally," I thought, the realization settling over me like a cloak. *Leviathan.* An ancient creature, a titan of the deep. It wasn't here to feast upon the humans—it was here to deliver a message. And it would leave destruction in its wake, not for the sake of blood, but for the sake of warning.

Its roar was deafening, a guttural bellow that rippled through the air like a storm of sound, pushing everything back, shattering the calm. The beast's purpose was clear now. It wasn't here for me, nor for any of the other puny mortals at the port. It was merely trying to make them understand the gravity of their actions.

Leviathan was a guardian, and I could sense its cunning intelligence, the gleam of awareness behind its primal ferocity. It knew well enough not to waste time devouring the pests that would only leave it in a state of suffering. It wasn't hunger that drove it—it was justice. And yet, its power was a force of nature, leaving destruction in every ripple of its vast, serpentine body.

I closed the distance, hopping from boat to boat, my feet barely touching the unstable wood as I pushed myself towards the behemoth. No magic—just raw physicality, the force of my will to get close enough for a fight.

As I landed on its scaly head, the moment stretched before me like an eternity, then I struck. A punch, aimed squarely at the creature's skull—but my fist met an immovable wall. My knuckles exploded with a dull, ringing pain as if I had just struck solid granite.

"*Certainly, your skin is as thick as my sister's face,*" I muttered, gritting my teeth through the numbness. The Leviathan, as if it understood, flashed a predatory grin, wide and filled with gleaming teeth, before it shook its head. The motion was violent, an earthquake in motion.

Before I could even react, the force of its shake sent me sprawling, crashing through the air like a ragdoll, until I slammed into the remains of a market building.

*CRASH!*

I tumbled through the broken ruins, the debris scattering around me, but the pain was minimal. The worst of it was a throbbing pain in my right hand—an injury I could easily ignore. I picked myself up, wiping the dust from my face and heading straight back into the fray. I had no time to waste.

This time, I didn't aim for its head. Instead, I targeted the Leviathan's jaw, that great, unyielding structure of bone and muscle. I jumped, my legs propelling me upward like a coiled spring, and launched an uppercut toward the underside of its jaw.

The moment my fist made contact, I instantly regretted it.

"Shit!" I gritted out, my fingers snapping under the pressure. The force was unrelenting, the resistance much more than I anticipated. I could feel my bones shift and break beneath the strike, but I landed on my feet, trying to shake off the pain as I took stock of the beast.

Leviathan was watching me, its sharp eyes glinting with amusement, as it revealed that wicked smile once again, its teeth gleaming like daggers in the twilight.

"*Your scales are truly hard,*" I muttered, my fingers twitching in agony. *Had I become an invoker now?* The idea was laughable—invokers are heroes known for their endless barrage of skills, but I had none of that. I was just a fighter, relying on the strength of my body, which, clearly, had its limits.

Leviathan didn't offer any further response. Instead, it began to retreat, its massive form slowly withdrawing from the scene.

"*Decisive,*" I whispered to myself. It wasn't here to kill—it was here to make a point. It had come, given its warning, and now it was leaving. If Leviathan truly desired my destruction, I wouldn't be standing here to see another sunrise.

But killing Leviathan… That wasn't a solution—it would only lead to more chaos. The sea kings would fight among themselves for control, and the balance of the oceans would shatter.

I could see it clearly now. Leviathan was a guardian, a keeper of order in the abyss. And now, with its warning delivered, the beast would wait until the next inevitable conflict.

But the damage had already been done, and it wasn't just the port that was in peril. If the seas were destroyed, if the fish were poisoned and the ecosystems polluted, then the fragile web of life in the oceans would collapse into ruin. Leviathan's attack was merely a symptom of the deeper issue, a cry from the depths.

I walked away, ignoring the lingering aches in my body. The damage to the port was severe, but it could be repaired. What concerned me more was the poison—someone had targeted the balance of the sea, and it wasn't just Leviathan that was angry. There were forces at work, lurking beneath the surface, and I would find them.

The criminal always returns to the crime scene.

"It's time for the hunt," I muttered, my gaze narrowing as I spotted a familiar figure off in the distance. The real enemy was still out there.