Warlock of Oceans: My Poseidon System-Chapter 360: First Floor: The Haven of Spring Cranes (2)
As he advanced, he spotted a single crane separated from its flock. The creature stood near a small pond, its white feathers gleaming in the dappled sunlight. It moved gracefully, its long neck dipping to drink from the water. This one, isolated from the others, seemed like the perfect target. But Cyrus wasn’t one to rush in without ensuring the odds were in his favor.
He paused, closing his eyes for a moment to heighten his senses. The sounds of the forest filled his ears—the distant calls of other cranes, the rustling of the trees, and the gentle lapping of water against the shore. He inhaled deeply, picking up the scent of the earth and the faint, sweet aroma of blooming flowers. Nothing out of the ordinary. His gaze swept the surroundings, confirming there were no other cranes nearby. His instincts and senses all aligned to tell him this crane was truly alone. Find more to read at novelbuddy
Satisfied, Cyrus allowed a small, confident smile to curl his lips. He extended his right arm, and from the ether itself, a sword began to form. The weapon materialized as a shimmering blade of pure aether, its translucent edges glowing with a soft, ethereal light. The sword hummed with energy, vibrating gently in his grip, as if eager to be unleashed.
Athena, who had been silently observing, raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was the first time she had seen Cyrus summon a weapon like this, and she couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer purity of the aether he commanded. The blade was both beautiful and deadly, a testament to Cyrus’s skill and power.
Cyrus met Athena’s gaze briefly, acknowledging her reaction with a slight nod before turning his full attention back to the crane. His expression hardened as he prepared to strike, the thrill of the hunt and the challenge before him igniting a fire in his veins.
Cyrus approached the swan with measured steps, his eyes locked onto the creature as it moved gracefully through the tall grass. The swan seemed almost indifferent to his presence, its long neck arcing elegantly as it pecked at the ground. But Cyrus knew better than to be fooled by its serene appearance. He held his sword of pure aether at the ready, the blade shimmering with a soft, pulsating light.
The swan finally took notice of him, its beady eyes narrowing as it lifted its head to meet his gaze. For a moment, there was a standoff—a tense silence where neither made a move. Then, in a sudden burst of speed, the swan lunged forward, its wings flaring out as it aimed a powerful strike at Cyrus with its sharp beak.
Cyrus sidestepped effortlessly, his movements smooth and controlled. He wasn’t in a hurry; he wanted to test the creature, to gauge its strength and speed. The swan whirled around, flapping its wings in a furious attempt to batter him, but Cyrus dodged each attack with ease, his body moving like a shadow in the wind. He observed the swan’s movements, noting the patterns in its attacks, the way it telegraphed its strikes, and the gaps in its defenses.
For several moments, the fight continued in this manner—Cyrus dodging and evading with almost casual grace, while the swan grew increasingly frustrated, its attacks becoming more erratic. It was clear to him now that the swan, despite its beauty and initial show of aggression, was far weaker than he had anticipated. The thrill of the challenge began to wane, replaced by a sense of inevitability.
Deciding to end the battle, Cyrus’s expression hardened with resolve. The next time the swan lunged at him, he didn’t move to dodge. Instead, he stepped into the attack, his grip on the aether sword tightening. The swan’s beak shot forward, but before it could reach him, Cyrus swung his blade in a single, swift motion.
The strike was clean and precise, slicing through the air with a barely audible hum. The swan’s momentum carried it forward for a split second longer, and then its head was severed from its neck, the body collapsing to the ground in a heap of feathers. The detached head rolled a short distance away, coming to rest in the grass, its eyes still open in a frozen expression of surprise.
Cyrus exhaled slowly, lowering his sword as he looked down at the fallen creature. The battle had been disappointingly easy, a far cry from the challenge he had hoped for. He flicked his wrist, and the aether sword dissipated into nothingness, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air where it had been.
As Cyrus stood over the lifeless body of the swan, Athena approached, her eyes calmly appraising the scene. She offered him a small, knowing smile, her voice carrying a tone of understanding as she spoke.
"This floor isn’t particularly difficult for someone of your caliber," she said, her gaze shifting to the tranquil surroundings. "The Haven of Spring Cranes is known more for its deceptive beauty than for its danger. For seasoned veterans like yourself, the challenge here doesn’t lie in individual encounters. It’s when you face them as a pack that things become more… interesting."
Cyrus turned his attention to her, intrigued by her words. "A pack?" he echoed, glancing around the serene landscape, now marred by the fallen swan.
Athena nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Yes, these creatures are not formidable on their own. But when they gather in numbers, their coordination and ferocity can catch even the most experienced adventurers off guard. It’s their unity, their ability to move as one, that makes them dangerous."
Her words piqued Cyrus’s curiosity. He had dispatched the lone swan with ease, but the idea of facing a larger group stirred something within him. Without another word, Athena gestured for him to follow, leading him through the peaceful forest, the canopy above rustling gently in the breeze.
As they walked, the landscape began to change subtly. The trees grew taller and denser, the underbrush thicker, and the air itself seemed to hum with a quiet intensity. They soon reached a clearing where a larger pack of swans congregated. The birds moved in unison, their graceful forms a stark contrast to the violence that Cyrus knew they were capable of when provoked.
Cyrus’s eyes narrowed as he observed them, sensing the latent danger in their collective presence. Athena stood back, watching with a serene expression as Cyrus readied himself. The aether sword materialized in his hand once more, its ethereal light casting a soft glow over the clearing.
The swans noticed him immediately, their heads turning in eerie synchronization. Then, as if on some silent command, they charged as one, wings outstretched, beaks aimed like spears, and talons poised to strike. Cyrus moved into action, his body a blur as he met their assault head-on.
The first swan lunged at him, and with a fluid motion, Cyrus sidestepped, his sword slicing through its neck in a clean arc. But as soon as the first fell, two more were upon him, attacking from both sides. He spun, his blade cutting through the air in a series of rapid, precise strikes. Feathers flew, and the swans dropped one by one, but more kept coming, their numbers overwhelming.
Cyrus quickly realized the truth Athena had hinted at. The swans were stronger together, their attacks coordinated in a way that forced him to stay on the defensive. Each strike he landed was met with another attack, the swans using their numbers to cover each other’s weaknesses. They moved as a unit, their ferocity multiplying with every member still standing.
Despite their coordination, however, Cyrus did not struggle. His movements were too fast, his strikes too accurate. But the fight lasted longer than he had anticipated. The swans were relentless, their pack mentality forcing him to constantly adapt, to anticipate not just the attack in front of him but the ones coming from every other angle.
He danced through the clearing, his sword a blur of light as it cut down swan after swan. Their blood stained the grass, the once peaceful clearing now a battlefield. But even as they fell, the swans showed no sign of retreat, driven by some primal instinct to fight until the last.
The sourc𝗲 of this content is freēwēbηovel.c૦m.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last swan crumpled to the ground, its body joining the others in the carnage that now filled the clearing. Cyrus stood among them, breathing heavily, the aether sword still shimmering in his hand.
He looked around at the fallen creatures, a sense of satisfaction mingling with the realization of their true strength. They were not formidable alone, but together, they were a force to be reckoned with. It had been a longer, more intense fight, but Cyrus had emerged victorious, his skills and experience shining through.
Athena approached him once more, her expression one of quiet admiration. "You handled them well," she said softly. "Few can take on a pack like that and emerge unscathed. But now you see the true nature of this floor. It’s not just about strength; it’s about understanding the challenge that lies beneath the surface."
"Let’s go to the next floor."
