THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

The city's southern district bustled with life as the morning sun gilded its cobblestones and cast shadows that danced across the narrow alleys. Litty strode purposefully, the crumpled commission paper clutched in her gloved hand.

Her eyes skimmed the hastily scrawled details, scanning every word as if they might reveal secrets previously overlooked: "Hunt and eliminate as many Dunemauls as possible. Location: Blackwater Beach, restricted zone."

A memory surfaced of the worn tomes she had studied back in Aethelwarin's grand guild library, their leather spines cracked and imbued with the scent of old ink and adventure.

Those books had described Dunemauls as relentless amalgamations of land and sea, creatures whose unchecked bloodlust could turn serene shores into charnel houses. She shivered as she recalled the vivid sketches of their monstrous forms.

As the city's din faded behind her, Litty's boots found their way onto the coarse path leading to the beach. The rhythmic roar of waves welcomed her, their eternal battle with the shore matching the pounding of her heartbeat. The restricted area was cordoned off with rope, fluttering warnings etched in red ink.

"Where are they?" Litty whispered to herself, eyes darting over the sands that seemed deceptively tranquil. Seaweed tangled along the shoreline, and the wind carried a briny scent that stung her nostrils.

She took a deep breath, steeling her resolve. The Leviathan's Abyss raid loomed in the future—an undertaking that promised peril and legend in equal measure. If she could secure the Codex of the Sea, she would find the knowledge needed to cure her mother's affliction. For that, she needed to grow stronger.

Suddenly, her sharp gaze fell upon a series of fresh, webbed footprints embedded in the damp sand. Her heart quickened as she followed their erratic path, each step a calculated move. The trail led her around a cluster of jagged, barnacle-encrusted rocks. She pressed herself against one, the rough surface scraping her arm as she peeked from behind.

There, not twenty paces ahead, stood the monsters that haunted sailors' tales. The Dunemauls were towering amalgamations of sea predator and humanoid, their forms grotesque and lethal. The nearest one shifted its massive body, the muscles in its back rolling under dark, scarred skin that glistened in the sunlight.

Its shark-like head tilted, rows of serrated teeth catching the light as it snarled, releasing a low, guttural sound that sent a shiver down Litty's spine.

Cold, predatory eyes, black as the abyss and full of a malevolent intelligence, surveyed the surroundings. The creature's clawed arms twitched, fingers flexing as though craving the feel of flesh and bone. Jagged fins jutted from its shoulders, glistening like freshly sharpened blades, while its chest and abdomen bore the rough, scaled texture of deep-sea hunters.

The beast's legs were thick and muscled, perfectly adapted for both the rush of the waves and the solid ground. Webbing between its wide, clawed feet hinted at its aquatic origin, but the way it moved—calculated and menacing—spoke of dominance on any terrain. A long tail coiled behind it, tipped with a sharp, bone-like protrusion that whipped through the air as if testing its reach.

"By the Sovereigns," Litty breathed, feeling a bead of sweat trail down her temple. The tales had not done them justice. Her pulse raced as she gripped the hilt of her swords tighter, the weight of responsibility heavy on her chest. This wasn't just a hunt—it was a test, a necessary step towards her mother's salvation.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of sea salt and rust. One of the Dunemauls' heads snapped in her direction, nostrils flaring as it tasted the air. Litty's muscles tensed, ready to either fight or flee. She had been spotted.

There was no turning back now.

Litty took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm the thundering of her heart. Memories of her training in the Elanthrial Woods surged through her mind, vivid scenes of the captain of the guard's relentless drills.

"Stay grounded, mind sharp, and wield your strength like a bowstring pulled taut—never slack, never breaking,"

his voice echoed.

Her legs stiffened, toes digging into the damp sand as she prepared to strike. The monstrous Dunemaul neared, its shark-like eyes narrowing as it detected her presence behind the rock. In a fluid motion, she unsheathed her twin swords, their gleaming blades cutting through the sunlight. With a sharp exhale, she surged forward, blades arching downward in a deadly sweep.

But the creature's steel-like tail shot up, intercepting her strike with a metallic clash. The force hurled her backwards, sending her skidding across the sand, grains stinging her exposed skin. Litty gasped, the air knocked from her lungs as she watched the Dunemaul coil, muscles rippling beneath its scarred hide, ready to lunge.

"Focus," she whispered, tightening her grip on her swords. Drawing on the reservoir of energy within her, she reached for her aura. A gentle warmth flooded her veins, steadying her, sharpening her senses.

The monster roared, its jagged maw open wide, rows of serrated teeth gleaming as it rushed in, intent on dragging her into the sea where it reigned supreme.

In a heartbeat, Litty crossed her swords in front of her, forming a makeshift shield. The Dunemaul crashed into her with brutal force, the impact driving her heels deep into the sand as she slid dangerously close to the lapping waves. The cold spray splattered across her face, mingling with the sweat trickling down her brow.

Panic stirred in her chest as she realized what the beast intended—it would drag her into the sea, where she would be at its mercy.

"No," she gritted her teeth, summoning her strength. With a sudden burst, she kicked the Dunemaul square in its chest. The creature stumbled backward, claws raking the ground for balance. Seizing the moment, Litty dashed forward, swords raised for a lethal strike.

A sudden, icy pressure wrapped around her leg, halting her mid-stride. Shock rippled through her as she glanced down to see a tendril of water coiling around her ankle, tightening like a snake.

The Dunemaul's eyes gleamed with intelligence as it steadied itself, then dropped onto all fours and charged at her like a feral beast, sand spraying in its wake.

Instinct roared within Litty, and she unleashed her aura with a ferocity she hadn't known she possessed. Energy surged through her body, crackling like fire as it channeled into her blades, making them blaze with a vivid green glow. The tendril of water shivered, hissed, and evaporated into steam with a sharp sizzle, freeing her leg.

Without a heartbeat to spare, she sprang forward, muscles coiling like a predator's, and leaped onto the Dunemaul's back. Its scarred hide rippled under her grip as it thrashed violently, roaring with a mixture of pain and fury, shaking the ground beneath them.

With a warrior's cry, she drove her swords deep into its back, pinning it to the sand. The Dunemaul's roar split the air, a guttural, dying sound as blood gushed from the wound, staining the beach in dark crimson. The sea itself seemed to shiver as the waves lapped hungrily at the mingled blood.

Litty twisted her blades, ensuring the creature's life ebbed away. Silence fell, the sound of her ragged breathing the only noise until another roar shattered the quiet. Her eyes snapped up, and her pulse quickened at the sight before her—a line of Dunemauls emerging from the sea, their silhouettes fierce and unforgiving under the morning light.

Her gaze flicked to the blood-soaked sand beneath her boots, realization dawning like ice down her spine. The scent of fresh blood had drawn them. She had made a mistake, one that would cost her dearly.

Litty took a deep breath, planting her feet firmly as the first of the new wave of beasts charged. This was not the end—it was only the beginning.

"For mother," she whispered, eyes hardening with determination. She braced herself for the onslaught, twin swords glinting as she prepared to face the feral tide.