JUDICATOR JANE 6 - CHAPTER 18 (Patreon)

Bleak Horizons

Jane pushed open the creaky wooden door, its hinges groaning in protest as morning light spilled into the drafty little room. Her head throbbed. The slats of wood making up the walls had more gaps than actual boards, and the threadbare blanket on the narrow bed had done little to keep out the damp, biting wind that crept in from the sea all night long. She rubbed her forehead, half-wishing she’d slept outside—it couldn’t have been worse.

Wonder if that grimy innkeep is going to charge me for breakfast too, she thought bitterly as she stepped out into the main room.

The inn looked almost exactly as it had the night before—dim, stale, and worn from years of neglect. A few of the patrons hadn’t even left; they lay slouched at their tables, snoring softly amid empty mugs and salt-stained cloaks. Behind the counter, the innkeeper was draped over a chair like an abandoned marionette, barely conscious.

Jane took a breath and smoothed down her cloak. “Excuse me,” she called, trying to sound less irritated than she felt. “Got anything for breakfast?”

The man stirred, blinking sluggishly as he came to life, his face red and puffy, breath thick with the scent of yesterday’s ale. He coughed twice, then groaned as he struggled upright. “Breakfast?” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve got leftovers from yesterday. Five copper.”

That means more dried fish, Jane thought, grimacing. Not exactly the kind of thing that made a girl leap out of bed in the morning. Still, she checked her bag. A few provisions remained, but the thought of rationing for the return trip made her hesitate. With a sigh, she fished out the coins and set them on the counter.

“Fine.”

She slid into the nearest empty table, brushing away a few unidentifiable crumbs with the back of her hand. The innkeeper heaved himself up and lumbered into the kitchen, trailing mumbles and misery.

Moments later, a crash of dishes and a loud curse rang out from the back.

Jane instinctively tensed—then sighed as a familiar spherical shape emerged through the doorway, floating with perfect serenity. Taltorius turned midair and glided to her side with unsettling grace.

“Where have you been?” she asked, keeping one eye on the kitchen entrance.

“I WAS EXPLORING THIS SO-CALLED OCEAN OF YOURS,” he replied, voice booming with the smugness of someone who’d just discovered the mysteries of Atlantis.

“All night?” Jane frowned. “Seriously? I haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

“INDEED. FORTUNE FAVORS US. A GREAT MANY CHALLENGES AWAIT WITHIN. WE MUST VENTURE FORTH INTO THEIR DARK DEPTHS!”

Jane rubbed her temples. “So… you were just swimming around underwater?”

“I FOUND IT MUCH MORE INTERESTING THAN THE SURFACE.”

“We’re not going into the ocean,” she snapped, exasperated. “I can’t even breathe underwater to begin with.”

Before he could say another word, the innkeeper reemerged—only to stop dead in his tracks. He stared at Taltorius, eyes wide, jaw slack. In his hands was a wooden plate with a large, sad-looking brown fish curled up like it had died twice.

“What in the blazes is that?!” the man blurted, stumbling back a step.

Jane didn’t even blink. “He’s with me. Don’t worry about it.”

The innkeeper gave her a wary look, then practically threw the plate onto the table and backed away. “If he’s eating too, you’ll have to pay extra!” he barked, disappearing into the kitchen before Jane could respond.

Jane stared down at the plate, nostrils flaring as the pungent smell of dried fish hit her. It looked oily, shriveled, and aggressively unappetizing.

She narrowed her eyes and triggered Piercing Gaze.

Dried Mackerel (Food)

Ever wondered what culinary rock bottom looks like? Behold! One more day and this bad boy would've legally qualified as compost. Eat at your own risk!

Jane groaned, staring down at the sad, limpid fish like it had personally wronged her. Still, she tore off a piece with reluctant fingers and popped it into her mouth. It was salty, dry, and vaguely rubbery. Still easier to get down than Mak’Sult was. That was a low bar, but a bar nonetheless.

She tore off another strip and held it out to the tiny demon. “Want some?”

Taltorius drifted away, turning his single eye dismissively. “I FEASTED TO SATISFACTION WITHIN THE DARK DEPTHS OF THE SEA.”

He floated over to one of the unconscious men slumped at a nearby table, peering down at the snoring figure with something between disdain and curiosity.

“WHAT A PITIFUL EXCUSE FOR A WARRIOR. IT IS NO WONDER HE RESONATES WITH THE AFFINITY OF SLOTH. THIS ONE IS NOT FIT FOR THE HORDE, WE SHOULD DEVOUR HIM INSTEAD.”

Jane gave him a flat look and thrust a finger out. “No devouring allowed.”

***

Outside the inn, the early morning sun spilled golden light across the endless sweep of ocean, casting shimmering ribbons that danced atop the waves. The sea, though vast and unfamiliar, felt a little less alien in the soft hush of dawn. A faint breeze carried the scent of salt, seaweed, and fish oil.

The docks were livelier than they'd been the day before. Fishermen shouted instructions as they loaded their nets, crates clattered against old planks, and a few figures scrubbed barnacles from their hulls. Still, it was a far cry from the bustling image Jane had once imagined—grand Trader vessels like 16th century galleons, crews speaking in alien languages, their cargo holds filled with relics and rare goods from across the world. This? This was a tired little village clinging to the shore.

Maybe I just have to keep heading south, she thought, shielding her eyes as she stepped forward, Taltorius drifting silently beside her like a disinterested guardian spirit.

Most of the ships docked nearby were modest—wooden hulls sun-bleached and weathered, clearly meant for coastal fishing. A few had patched sails and chipped oars, their decks strewn with ropes and drying nets. They didn’t look much better than the inn she’d just dragged herself out of.

Only one stood out.

It wasn’t huge, but it was clean. A single-sailed vessel with a fresh coat of sea-blue paint, barrels lashed in neat rows across the deck, and not a speck of moss or barnacle in sight. It didn’t match the others, though Jane couldn’t tell if that meant anything. There was no one aboard—or at least, no one visible—so for now, she filed it away.

She had another idea first.

Turning from the dock, Jane stepped back and focused, drawing in a deep breath. She pictured the Traders in her mind—Melindra’s descriptions, Boli’s casual mentions, the size of their ships, the sense of distance and mystery that surrounded them. She stamped her foot on the ground, channeling her Luck's passive compass into action.

There. Southeast.

Straight into the heart of the Green Sea.

“Figures,” Jane muttered, rolling her shoulders. The sea glimmered in that direction like a vast, unknowable invitation. She glanced at her System stats and checked her Mana reserves.

Mana: 6520/6520

She had enough Mana to fly for a few hours—maybe more if she pushed it. But with any luck, she might not need that long. If a Trader vessel was anywhere nearby, soaring through the sky would give her the best chance to spot it. Of course, activating The Drawn Veil right in front of a dozen fishermen wasn't the most subtle move, so she walked southward, down the coast, until the docks were hidden behind a ridge.

“Alright,” Jane said, glancing sideways at Taltorius. “I’m going to trigger The Drawn Veil and fly out until I either burn through half my Mana or lose sight of land. If I’m lucky, I’ll spot a Trader ship. We make contact, cut a deal, and head back.”

“SPLENDID!” Taltorius boomed, brimming with enthusiasm. “AND IF NOT, PERHAPS WE SHALL DO BATTLE WITH ONE OF THE MONSTERS OF THE SEA!”

Jane rolled her eyes. Knowing him, it wouldn’t surprise her if he had spent the night fighting a lobster to the death and declaring it a worthy adversary.

After one last spin to align herself with the direction the System had shown her, she activated The Drawn Veil and surged skyward. The wind whipped past her face as she climbed, then tilted forward, slicing through the air toward the southeast, the sea stretching endlessly below.

For the next hour, she flew—sometimes high above the clouds, other times skimming just above the frothing waves, scouting for any sign of sails or movement. Taltorius floated along in perfect silence at her side. Under normal conditions, his voice might have offered distraction—or at least entertainment—but with her skill active, all voices were nullified. It left her in complete, oppressive quiet.

The ocean below was a churning, grayscale void. The farther she went, the darker it felt. She glanced down again and again—massive waves rolling beneath, rising like dark mountains, every swell threatening to swallow the sky. God, the ocean is terrifying, she decided. Even the jagged hellscape of the Netherrealm hadn’t made her stomach twist like this. At least there, the ground didn’t move.

She resisted the urge to check her Mana for the hundredth time. She still had visibility on the coast, so turning back wasn’t a problem… but something deeper, more primal, was starting to settle in her gut. A quiet dread. The way her breathing quickened without consent. The way her eyes darted from wave to wave, searching for something she couldn’t name. This felt like a place she shouldn't be. For the first time in a while, even Taltorius’s voice would’ve been a comfort.

Then it happened.

As she skimmed over another massive swell—thirty feet at least—she dropped altitude for just a moment too long. A dark shadow slid beneath the surface, catching Jane's eye.

Is that the shadow of a cloud? What—

In a single, fluid movement, the sea erupted.

Something monstrous burst from the depths, its jagged mouth yawning open like a sinkhole of bone and hunger. Its maw—easily the size of a house—snapped upward, swallowing both her and Taltorius in a heartbeat. She barely had time to gasp. One moment she was flying, the next she was screaming—soundless and swallowed.

She was plunged into blackness. Slimy muscle clenched around her as the beast’s throat contracted, trying to force her deeper. Pressure mounted on her head, as if she were being dragged to the bottom of a deep pool. Everything twisted. Her limbs flailed in the narrow, fleshy tunnel. There was no sky. No air. Only suffocating dark.

Then, mercifully, she slipped free of the throat and tumbled, gasping, into a sloshing pool of burning liquid.

“AHH—SWEET JESUS!” she shrieked, voice raw and ragged.

System messages flashed across her vision in a disorienting blur.

You have received acidic damage!

-5 HP

-5 HP

-5 HP

Her skin was on fire.

The stomach acid was eating through her clothes, hissing against her skin, filling her nostrils with a sharp, rancid stench that stung deeper than breath. Every passing second, her Health ticked downward in punishing waves. Her skin steamed, her shoes bubbled. Pain flared across her legs and arms, creeping like flames through an oil-soaked cloth.

“AHHH, SO THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE DEVOURED!” Taltorius declared, far too calmly for someone melting inside a sea beast.

A ring of red light flared around him, illuminating the chamber in an eerie, hellish glow. The walls of the stomach pulsed and flexed, sloshing with the rhythmic churn of digestive muscle. Jane’s eyes darted around, spotting half-dissolved bones, hunks of unrecognizable meat, and bloated fish carcasses bobbing in the acidic soup. Her vision flickered. The Drawn Veil was no longer active—Did I cancel it? She couldn’t remember.

Calm down, Jane. Focus. She grit her teeth, forcing herself to breathe through the pain. You are not going to die inside a sea monster’s belly!

She reached out, summoning her Gavel of Repentance. The shining weapon burst into her grasp, its light blue glow dim against the thick red murk. Without hesitation, she traced the size-enhancement pattern, over and over. The gavel began to grow—twice its size, then three times, swelling outward with every completed tracing.

The creature reacted instantly.

It thrashed violently, its stomach walls compressing and rippling as it tried to force her out—or crush her flat. Jane slammed against the undulating flesh, her grip tight on the gavel as she continued to trace the spell again and again, the hammer expanding with every iteration. It pushed against the stomach lining now, distorting the chamber into a strained, bulging shape.

The acid churned with the monster’s panic. A deafening groan echoed through the body around her.

Then—

A deafening blast.

The walls exploded.

A wet, gory surge of pressure and guts shot outward as the gavel ripped the stomach apart from within. Jane had just enough time to register a fleeting moment of triumph before everything turned frigid and black.

The deep.

Ocean water poured in through the shredded remains of the monster’s torso, blasting her backward in a rush of pressure and icy shock. In a blink, she was no longer surrounded by warm flesh, but by the crushing cold and infinite darkness of the sea.

She flailed, spinning in the churning current, the gavel still in hand. Above and below—no light. Just the dark, yawning abyss.

Hyperion Coralwyrm (Level 234) has been defeated!

You have received 831799 experience!

832312/704141 

Excess experience has been discarded.

Jane King is Level 137!

You have gained +2 to Strength, Agility, Constitution, and Intelligence!
You have gained +5 to Wisdom!

If it hadn’t been the only thing visible in the pitch-black waters, Jane wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Then came the panic.

She couldn’t see the surface.

Not above. Not below. Not anywhere. The ocean pressed in on all sides, thick and endless, swallowing light, swallowing sound. Her breath caught in her chest as she realized she couldn't speak, couldn't even scream.

Her eyes darted wildly, searching—Where was Taltorius? A faint red haze shimmered somewhere nearby, but the glow did more harm than good, scattering in the murk and blinding her to anything more than a foot ahead. Shapes twisted in the water—shadows, illusions, remains. A flicker of movement—was it Taltorius? Or something else.

She focused, desperately trying to activate The Drawn Veil, to get even a second of elevation, of escape, of clarity.

Nothing.

The skill didn't activate. Just silence and pressure and cold.

Stupid System! she cursed mentally, her limbs flailing as the darkness closed in again. Her lungs began to ache.

You have received asphyxiation damage!

-5 HP

-5 HP

-5 HP

The numbers kept streaming down—her Health ticking away, the System logs the only things she could still see clearly in the stifling dark. She had already taken acidic damage, and now she was suffocating.

Jane kicked with everything she had, lungs tight, muscles burning, chest threatening to collapse. Please, please— She clawed through the freezing water, blind and disoriented, the weight of the deep pressing against her like a living thing. She couldn’t tell which way was up. The darkness offered no clues. Every motion felt like it was dragging her deeper, not closer to escape.

Shutting her eyes tight, she let go of logic, of orientation, of everything but instinct—and Luck. Take me to the surface, she pleaded, saying prayer after prayer in desperation. She swam with no direction, no feedback, no proof it was working. Just muscles screaming and a stubborn refusal to give up.

It was like pushing through tar. Each kick, each stroke, slow and heavy. Her limbs moved, but the water resisted, and the cold bit into her joints. She knew her Health was dropping, but she didn't dare check. The icy numbness gave way to something merely cold. Then the cold became tolerable. Her lungs begged for air.

Come on—just a little farther…

Then—SPLASH—she shattered upward through the surface like breaking a glass pane, gasping for breath as daylight slammed against her face.

“Haaah!” She barely had time to draw in air before two massive swells collided, slapping her sideways. Foam exploded around her as she was dragged under again, tumbling in a storm of bubbles and salt. She kicked wildly, broke the surface once more, coughing, sputtering.

The Drawn Veil—come on, activate!

She focused, tried—nothing. Again, she reached for the skill.

Still nothing.

Panic flared again. Why?! Why isn’t it working?! The only thing she could think of—Was it the water? Does the skill not activate while I'm submerged? But she was above the water now. She should be able to fly again. So why—?!

Suddenly, with a wet splash, Taltorius burst through the surface beside her like a cannonball, trailing a stream of seawater behind him.

“AHH! NOW THAT WAS INVIGORATING!” he bellowed. Even amid the chaos of crashing waves, his voice was crystal clear. “CUTTING IT A LITTLE CLOSE, AREN’T YOU?”

He hovered in front of her face, perfectly steady, perfectly dry, while Jane flailed and fought to keep her head above the surf.

“Guh—” she coughed, trying not to drown in her own frustration. Of course he's fine.

As she fought to stabilize herself in the churning water, she pulled up her Health and Mana with a thought, blinking salt out of her eyes.

Health: 320/2760

Mana: 3520/6570

She had more than enough Mana to activate The Drawn Veil—but it didn’t matter. For some reason, as long as she was in the water, the System wouldn’t let her trigger it. She couldn’t fly. Couldn’t do anything. If another sea creature swallows me again, I’m done for.

Whether that happened or not she would just have to leave to luck. Not that it had stopped the coralwyrm.

Then the real weight of her situation struck her like a second wave: Am I going to have to swim the whole way back?!

That was a nightmare in itself. She’d been flying for over an hour. She was at least fifty miles from shore—probably more. There’s no way. I’ll drown before I even make it halfway.

“WELL? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” Taltorius boomed cheerfully, drifting beside her like this was a vacation. “ARE YOU SEARCHING FOR ANOTHER BATTLE?”

Jane’s teeth were chattering as she fought to stay afloat, her arms and legs barely responding. Was Taltorius truly oblivious to her situation? She took a shuddering breath, trying to stay calm. If she died out here, the Soul Binding would break. Taltorius and all the other demons would be free. That can’t happen. Not now. She had to project strength, even now, when she was at her weakest.

“T-Taltorius,” she said, voice tight and wavering, “Since I've been doing all the work, think you could… give me a hand? Lift me out of the water. For a few seconds—just enough to activate my skill.”

He tilted his head, his single eye narrowing with theatrical thought. A long, dangerous pause followed.

“HMPH. VERY WELL. I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T INTERESTED IN BATTLING THE MONSTERS OF THE SEA.”

Then—he vanished beneath the waves.

Jane blinked. “Taltorius?”

No response. A minute passed. Then two. The waves rocked around her, the chill gnawing deeper into her muscles. Her Mana sat there, mocking her.

“Tal—?”

Suddenly, an explosive force erupted from below. Jane rocketed into the air like a ragdoll, water trailing from her limbs as she careened wildly. Her breath caught—

NOW.

She triggered The Drawn Veil, and the System finally responded. She nearly cried as the steel wings appeared behind her back and the blindfold wrapped around her eyes.

Air. Wind. Light. Freedom.

She shot upward, as high as the skill allowed, breathing in gasps, blinking tears of cold and relief. Moments later, Taltorius emerged beside her, hovering silently. If he said anything, she couldn’t hear it.

But she turned to him and gave a nod of gratitude all the same.

Still shaking, still soaked, Jane turned back toward the coast. It was just a thin, jagged line on the horizon—but it was enough. She poured every ounce of speed into her flight and took off like a missile.

Nope, nope, nope. Never again. Not flying over the ocean. That's it. Her promise burned in her mind as fiercely as her skin still burned from the monster's stomach acid.