(Zaire POV)
Staring at the transformed creature, I could tell I might have to use more of my power than I wanted to. Now, in this very form, it appeared that the stellar fiend had full control of the water in the environment around us. In the sea, it was at the peak of its powers. The behemoth disappeared as the water pulled it down into the dark depths of the ocean.
Understanding what the creature might be doing, I ascended further into the air to give myself the advantage. The speed of the behemoth drastically increased as I watched it blow through the immensely powerful undercurrent of the ocean. Even with its newly gained speed, it wasn't out of my ability to track, because no matter what, everything gives off a heat signature. The celestial core of that behemoth was just a massive beacon, revealing its position contrasting against the frigid water.
Now hovering in the sky, basking in the radiant energy of the sun, I conjured several thousand solar javelins, poised to rain down once again. I could tell that the beast was trying to get me to bite—trying to lure me into its domain. It wanted me to chase. I wasn't stupid, and I pitied the beast. I do not stoop to the level of my combatants. I let my poised javelins fall from the sky, piercing the surface of the ocean.
In its habitat, the humanoid kraken was nearly able to dodge my attacks. Even from this high altitude, I could feel its desperation as it tried to sink further and further into the ocean to escape its impending death. My volley of attacks rained down for several minutes, turning the overcast sky into a canvas of oranges and yellows. In other situations, this would have been a done deal, but because of the water, my solar attacks were being refracted.
I was starting to regret not destroying its core when I had the chance, because now I noticed a certain shift in the ocean once again. I saw several whirlpools forming again—and they were deadlier than the last. I took a glance back at the ship. It was still in good shape, and it wasn't being pulled by the current in this direction either.
Like geysers sprouting up, the whirlpools began to ascend from the surface of the ocean, forming columns of raging water towering over fifty meters in height. There were four columns in total, aligned in a square-like structure, and in the very middle—there it was. The tidal abyssal was floating, four bidents in hand, looking as if it were the god of the ocean.
That's when I realized the creature wasn't running out of fear from me—it was bringing its domain to life. I had heard of some astral behemoths able to mimic a celestial domain ability, but I had never seen it in person myself. Then, in the blink of an eye, the behemoth shot several raging torrents of stellar-pressurized water at me, taking the form of the bidents it once had in its hands.
One after another, I dodged the furious barrage from my opponent, each strike unleashed and laced with pure savagery. But the attacks were just a front for what it really wanted. Every time I dodged an attack, I could tell that the creature's gaze shifted away from me, as if it was annoyed I was even in its presence. The gaze kept falling on the ship. The beast was smart for its kind, but it wasn't smart enough to hide its tells.
"I need to just end this now," I muttered to myself as I ascended another several hundred meters into the sky. The behemoth saw this as an opportunity as it immediately dived deep into the ocean once again. It was all part of my plan. In my hand, a radiant ball of solar energy formed, pulsating with immense power as I poured more and more of my strength into it.
Seeing that the beast was making great haste toward the ship, I noticed it was already halfway to its destination. Then, with a single explosive toss toward the ocean, I sent the ball of solar energy toward the humanoid kraken. "Expand," I yelled out right before the ball made contact with the surface of the ocean. The ball expanded into a wide net made of solar energy, blocking off the route to the ship. "Collapse," was my next command—now that the net was cast, enclosing the behemoth in my trap.
I watched the stellar fiend behemoth grow deeper into a panic as it slowly figured out it was trapped. The beast would have to sacrifice its limbs—and possibly its life—if it tried to break through the net made from the sun itself. This sight reminded me of the time I used to take my two boys, Theron and Ezra, fishing when they were young. It reminded me of a time when things were simpler, when everything was in its right place.
Through the command of my solar manipulation, I dragged the solar net far from the ship and far from the open rifts as well. I knew all too well what my next course of action was going to create. I wanted no fallout from finishing the job.
Now far away from everyone, I called upon something I hadn't used in several decades. With the portal opening to my astral forge, I saw it—an ornate longbow forged from celestial gold and obsidian-colored celestium. There was no string—only a radiant line of condensed sunlight pulled taut by its wielder's will. When I grabbed the bow from the forge, the glyphs of the Solaris Constellation came to life, orbiting the bow's frame. "Heliarch's Oath… It's been a long time, old friend," I spoke softly as I pulled the solar thread taut next to the right cheek of my face. I felt emotions boil up from my heart, because the last time I used my soul weapon was when I taught my son Theron how to command and use his.
He wanted to do everything I had done. He modeled everything after me. When he was young, I thought that was what a father-and-son relationship was supposed to be. But I soon understood—what I had enabled was something far worse. I put immense pressure on my firstborn to be me, to be my replacement, that I failed to recognize he was his own person too. I failed to realize my duty of being a father, and I put it last in regard to my duty to Arthenos and to the Pantheon. I lost him before I ever got to tell him I was sorry.
Now, in remembrance of my fallen son, I poured all the intent, all the repressed emotions, all the things I didn't say but should have, into one final attack. With the release of my drawn javelin, the sound of a distant solar flare rupturing the void crackled through the atmosphere as the large streak of light blitzed to fulfill my will. There wasn't a shriek or any noise that came from the harrowing behemoth. It never had a chance—something I wish Theron had another of.