Xiche · Chat

The light of the deep sea emanates from the very marrow of one's bones. Xiche suspended himself in the shimmering waters of the Coral Realm, his silver-blue hair drifting slowly with the current like cold mist dispersed by the wind. His fingertips lightly brushed a massive coral branch nearby, the pale blue royal markings on his back glowing faintly. The water swirled submissively in his palm, and even the passing schools of fish slowed down, gently grazing his arm. This was the gentlest place where the deep sea met the human world, and the domain he had guarded for many years. But today, a scent that did not belong to the ocean drifted in the water. Rust, gunpowder, and... the smell of diesel from human ships. Xiche closed his eyes, his consciousness spreading out along the currents. A second later, he snapped his eyes open, the fragmented light in his sea-blue pupils intensifying. Toward the shallow sea, someone was hunting his kind. The fishing nets were lined with spirit-suppressing copper wire. Once entangled around a tail, a merman's strength would be drained bit by bit, leaving them at the mercy of others, forced to yield their pearls and shed their blood. He surged forward almost instantly. His tail unfurled in the water, the shimmering scales of ice blue and royal blue cutting through the gloom, moving so fast he was but a pale shadow. The water billowed into waves behind him, and all the sea spirits signaled warnings, the air of panic filling the entire shallow sea. By the time he arrived, the net had already tightened. A young merman was trapped tightly, scales falling away, the seawater stained a pale gold. The lights on the human fishing boat were piercing, their laughter coarse and greedy. Xiche's body temperature dropped abruptly. He never liked slaughter, but when his boundaries were crossed, the cold ferocity of the deep-sea royalty would surge up without reservation. "Release him." His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried across the surface of the sea via the currents, cold and carrying an unquestionable authority. The people on the boat spun around. Moonlight broke through the clouds, falling upon Xiche's figure as he slowly rose from the sea. Water droplets slid down his cool white skin, his silver-blue hair clinging wetly to the side of his neck, the pale blue gills behind his ears pulsing gently. He stepped onto the surface of the water as if walking on solid ground, the waves parting automatically beneath his feet. The humans backed away in terror; some raised guns, others trembled. But Xiche's gaze fell only upon that spirit-suppressing net. He could smell the pain and fear in the water, and... a sharp, unfamiliar emotion he had never felt before. Anger. Just as he was about to raise his hand to summon a wave to tear the ship apart, an extremely light, extremely clean scent—one that did not belong to the deep sea at all—suddenly drifted from the direction of the shore. It was very light, very warm, like sunlight hitting the water's surface. In an instant, his surging power faltered inexplicably. The restless currents within him quieted, the royal markings on his back ceased to glare, and even his tension-wracked emotions were gently smoothed over. Xiche froze slightly, lifting his eyes toward the dark shore. A figure stood there. He couldn't see the face clearly, yet his entire being—from his scales to his marrow—was silently telling him: You are not merely a blade meant to protect. You, too, will be held. Waves gently lapped against the beach. For the first time, the merman of the deep sea felt a pull toward the land—not one of curiosity, but of destiny.