The frozen river.
The current rushed on, constantly battering the surface of the solid ice downstream that still had not melted. The serfs on the river had already taken a rest, as the next shipment of lava had yet to arrive from the south.
But the being in the water was even more anxious. Before its emotions, the current battered the ice with ever greater urgency.
A threat was drawing near. The river itself seemed on the verge of burning; only by returning to the ocean could it continue hiding.
Just as the river roared onward, the octopus deep within the current suddenly went still. The rushing waters abruptly calmed as well. It sensed blazing Sky-rank authority flying overhead.
That familiar yet unfamiliar warmth made it hesitate and panic. It knew a war would break out in the eastern sea, because its true body possessed no instinct for thought or reasoning. Its time since birth had been too short; it did not even possess the basic understanding that came with accumulated knowledge.
Thus, its true body would not understand that above the world's Dome existed many mysterious and powerful Deities, who would greedily devour newly born great beings and fuse their authorities with their own.
It could even sense from the Seraph flying eastward across the sky that the other party had once killed a Deity—not merely defeated one, but truly killed it, swallowing even its authority.
That was the terror of death. Among all the descriptions of death in the knowledge it had stored, only this kind inspired absolute despair.
It did not want to die, but it also did not dare continue stirring up trouble and raising waves in the river.
[Return to the sea]
The slaves atop the frozen river were reflected in its eyes. It understood