Monster Evolution System: I became a Rat-Chapter 69: Nice

The ship sailed through the storm that had erupted without warning. Within the raging winds and crashing waves, several leviathans rose briefly above the surface before disappearing once more into the depths as lightning split the sky.

Some of them brushed their massive scales against the hull, causing the vessel to shudder and wobble upon the turbulent sea.

The ship was caught in its heart, its sails snapping like wounded beasts as towering waves slammed against the hull.

"Hold the ropes steady!" the Captain roared from the helm, his boots skidding across the drenched deck. "Do not let the wind turn her broadside!"

The crew struggled to obey. Men were thrown against railings, others clung to masts as sheets of rain blinded them. Lightning tore across the heavens, each strike revealing the sea in brief, terrifying clarity.

That was when they saw them.

From the black waters, immense shapes rose and sank again. Giant Sea Serpents. Their scaled backs broke the surface like moving islands before vanishing into the depths as thunder cracked above. One of them passed too close. Its massive body brushed the ship’s side, and the vessel lurched violently, sending sailors sprawling.

"She’s going to split!" someone cried.

"Not while I breathe!" the Captain shouted back, gripping the wheel with bleeding hands as another wave crashed over the deck.

Amid the chaos, Rosacer remained near the cabin door, hunched beneath a soaked cloak, every inch the frail old man he pretended to be. He trembled from the pressure of the winds. His back stayed bent, his hands shook against his railing he held, and his breath came in shallow gasps.

A young sailor rushed past him. "Old man, get below deck! You’ll be swept away!"

Rosacer nodded weakly and allowed himself to be guided, muttering in a thin, wavering voice, "Please guide this old man... young man"

Yet behind his dimmed eyes, his gaze was sharp, he was measuring every movement on the deck, with every groan of the ship’s wounded wooden frame.

’I wish I had the power to fight at sea too,’ he thought, his gaze fixed on the raging waters.

Below deck offered little safety. Water seeped through the planks, and barrels rolled wildly with each violent tilt. Above, the Captain fought the storm like a man wrestling a god. He ordered the remaining sail cut loose, sacrificing speed for survival, steering not toward open sea but toward the faint shadow of land barely visible through the rain.

"Land!" a lookout cried at last.

Another shouted, his voice swallowed by the storm.

Just then another wave struck from the side, tearing part of the railing away. The hull groaned in agony, timbers cracking like bones under strain. By the time the storm began to weaken, the vessel was no longer whole. It limped forward, broken and bleeding seawater from a dozen wounds.

When the sun finally pierced the clouds, it revealed their fate.

They had made it through the storm. But only just.

Before them lay a desolate island, its dark shoreline ringed with jagged rocks and twisted trees. The Captain gave a final command, his voice hoarse but unbroken.

"We land here. This ship won’t make it."

No one in the crew objected, their bodies weary from the sea battle.

Rosacer stepped onto the battered deck once more, coughing like a man at the edge of death. To the world, he was only a fragile survivor of a terrible storm.

But as his eyes lingered on the shadowed island ahead, a faint, knowing calm settled in his gaze.

"Checkpoint," he murmured.

Rosacer kept his eyes down, his back hunched like a fragile old man, yet his thoughts moved with quick, precise clarity.

From the moment the storm had begun, he had been searching for a contingency, a place to anchor himself should the ship finally fail.

If it came to that, he would be forced to use Ananta to escape. But Ananta would only return him to one destination. The Mist City. And in the Mist City waited Josan.

He needed a new anchor, far from the grasp of old enemies and the pull of tangled fate. A place where his power could settle without drawing him back into danger.

As the battered ship drifted toward the looming silhouette ahead, he knew he’d found it. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The island rose from the mist like a forgotten wound on the sea—barren, silent, untouched.

To the crew, it was nothing more than a final refuge.

To Rosacer, it meant much more.

He coughed faintly, keeping up the act as sailors rushed by, none noticing the steady resolve hidden in his weary eyes.

The island was dotted with spires and crumbling towers, perhaps once the domain of ancient mages.

As the ship approached, the shape of a tower rose among the spires. It stood alone, a solitary monument to ruin. Once it must have been magnificent, but now only half remained. The upper floors had caved in, leaving a hollow crown of stone, while deep cracks traced its walls like scars from long-forgotten wars.

Tattered banners clung to the highest ledge, their frayed threads fluttering feebly in the salty sea breeze.

The crew stared in silence.

"This place..." one sailor whispered. "It looks cursed."

The sailor next to him gave him a smack on the back to shut him up.

Rosacer stood near the railing, his back bent and his breath shallow. To them, he looked as though he feared the island as much as they did.

In truth, his eyes were studying every detail.

"Mage’s tower, perhaps... A kingdom... the flags."

He reached inward to call on the system, asking about the tattered banner atop the highest ledge.

The shimmering window appeared.

[Mandragora Tower: A place of dark magic and dangerous, forbidden language. It fell to ruin at the hands of the Dahaksetra Empire during the war against the Western Continent.]

As the ship anchored near the rocky shore, the mist parted just enough for him to see stone paths winding between the spires, half buried beneath moss and ash.

Statues lay broken along those paths, their faces erased by time, their bodies split in two as though struck down in a forgotten judgment.

The Captain gave the order to prepare for landing, and ropes were thrown toward the jagged rocks. The ship groaned one last time as it settled.

Rosacer stepped forward with slow, trembling steps, every movement that of a fragile survivor.

Yet as he gazed at the broken tower standing alone among the spires, a quiet certainty settled in his heart.