Steven wasn't entirely sure how this batch of Seaborn found him.
According to Kal'tsit, the scent of Gladiia's blood on him should have already faded.
By all logic, these monsters shouldn't have been coming after him anymore.
But honestly?
That wasn't important.
Right now, he just wanted a fight.
Like a human missile, Steven launched himself straight into the front lines, where the Penal Battalion was clashing with the monsters.
With a deafening crash, his Netherite Sword smashed into the ground.
The sheer impact force spread out like a shockwave, splitting the battlefield.
The Penal Battalion soldiers and the Seaborn were forcibly separated, now standing on opposite sides.
For a moment, all eyes locked onto Steven.
Their gazes were a mix of emotions—
Shock.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
But Steven wasn't afraid of being the center of attention.
If anything, he loved it.
Wasn't this exactly the kind of spotlight a successful isekai protagonist was supposed to enjoy?
Casually gripping his sword, he yanked it free from where it had buried itself deep into the ground.
The Netherite Sword gleamed under the dim light as he swept his gaze across the bizarre, grotesque sea creatures before him.
And then he spotted it.
Even among these abstract horrors, there was one creature that stood out—
A leader, no doubt.
Not because of its size.
Not because of its appearance.
But because on his minimap, every other monster showed up as a red dot.
This one?
It had a skull icon.
And everyone knows that's reserved for elite mobs in every good mod pack.
Steven grinned.
"Alright then—one-on-one. Or, more accurately—I'll take all of you on at once."
With undisguised arrogance, he leveled his sword tip toward what could vaguely be called the creature's head.
He didn't care if it understood him or not, a provocation was a provocation.
Meanwhile, behind him, the Penal Battalion soldiers hesitated, only to be stopped by Carmen and the two Inquisitors, who had finally arrived late to the scene.
Without another word, they let Steven have the stage.
After all, Carmen was curious to see just how powerful the man Kal'tsit feared so much truly was.
But Steven wasn't interested in waiting around.
Before his words had even finished leaving his mouth, he had already vanished, leaving behind nothing but a fading afterimage.
He dived straight into the horde.
He didn't want to give these monsters a chance to start talking.
If one of them suddenly pulled a "Hello, we are friends" on him, he swore he'd lose it.
Better to not risk it.
And so—
He swung.
There was no complex technique.
No formal swordsmanship.
No special combat style.
Just raw, brutal power.
With nothing but his own strength, Steven hacked his way through the horde like a walking lawnmower, carving a bloody path through the battlefield.
It didn't matter what kind of sea monster they were.
It didn't matter how big or small.
As long as they stood in his way, one of them survived a single swing.
One horizontal slash, and four or five creatures were cleaved in half.
This was absolute power.
A total stat-check.
A one-sided massacre.
Honestly, Steven had never understood why so many games separated strength and speed as different stats.
At least for him, if he put enough force into his swings, he could go as fast as he damn well pleased.
"Man, this is satisfying and all—"
"But not having any AOE is kinda annoying."
Even as he continued swinging, Steven had enough brainpower to complain mid-fight.
Maybe he should look into installing a magic mod or something.
Or at least get a better gear setup with AOE abilities.
Very quickly, the once chaotic, densely packed swarm of Seaborn was cleared.
In its place, a battlefield of blood and corpses, carved open by Steven alone.
And just then, a long, piercing howl echoed from the back of the horde.
It was commanding.
Authoritative.
Enough to halt the mindless charge of the Abyssal creatures, stopping them in their tracks.
Steven also stopped, turning to face the source of the sound.
And there it was, the one he had seen earlier.
The elite mob, the one that seemed to be the leader of this swarm.
The name above its head read:
[Seaborn Elite: The First To Talk]
With a slow, deliberate motion, the creature raised a mucus-covered claw toward Steven.
And then, in a deep voice shockingly close to Iberian speech—
It spoke.
"Human… return our kin to us."
Steven's eye twitched.
His lips curled.
And then, without hesitation—
"Return my a—"
Before he even finished cursing, he had already lunged forward.
The hell?!
He was just joking earlier about there actually being a monster that could talk!
But now there really was one?!
If he let this thing keep running its mouth, what if it suddenly started pleading for mercy halfway through the fight?
What if it suddenly begged for peace?
Steven wasn't risking it.
No talking.
No negotiations.
Just beat the words out of it.
Originally, he was planning to leave the boss for last, clean up the small fry first, and then enjoy a proper battle.
But since this thing was so eager to step up—
Well.
That wasn't his problem anymore.
In the blink of an eye, Steven was gone from where he had stood.
And before anyone could react, he had already appeared right in front of the so-called "The First To Talk."
No sword.
No technique.
Just one punch.
And the elite Seaborn was sent flying.
<+>
"Sir… did you see that?"
Standing at a distance, Dario had been observing the entire battle.
And now, he was suddenly very, very glad about the decision he had made earlier.
When Irene described how this boy had single-handedly stopped the Seaborn tide, it had already sounded ridiculous.
Now?
Now it felt like an understatement.
Even with his own combat experience, Dario couldn't keep up with Steven's movements.
The moment he accelerated, he was almost indistinguishable from teleportation.
And if he couldn't track it, that meant even his own teacher likely wouldn't be able to either.
The old Saint beside him sighed.
He, too, had failed to track Steven's speed.
And though he hated to admit it, even if he were decades younger, he still wouldn't have been able to.
But even if he couldn't see the attacks, he could see the aftermath.
The cracks left in the ground from Steven's entrance.
The way some monsters weren't even cut.
They were just shredded apart by the pure shockwaves from his swings.
How much raw power would it take to do that?
How could someone generate that kind of force with just their body?
And that wasn't the scariest part.
Throughout the entire fight, Carmen had felt no trace of Originium Arts.
No spells.
No special abilities.
Just sheer, overwhelming physical strength.
What kind of humanoid monster was this?
Not even the Abyssal Hunters were this absurd!
Carmen's gaze darkened.
His years of experience as an Inquisitor gave him a keen instinct.
And his instinct told him that Steven wasn't an enemy.
Not yet, at least.
"For now, let's avoid making him an opponent."
"At least for Iberia's sake, he's still… safe."
But then, just as he was beginning to feel somewhat relieved, the next scene made Carmen question everything again.
<+>
In the middle of the battlefield, Steven grabbed the The First To Talk by the throat.
With just one hand.
Lifting the massive Abyssal creature off the ground.
And then, with an expression of pure delight, he cackled.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—!!"
...Yeah.
That was not the laugh of a good person.