Herakleia’s foot disappeared into the creature’s maw, and then Alexios found himself there—clutching her ankle with one hand and his sword with the other. The jaws that held him were firm, warm, and drenched in saliva, but both he and Herakleia had avoided the creature’s teeth, some of which were almost as big as Alexios was tall. Yet Herakleia wasn’t moving.

Alexios had little time before he passed out. As the world swung around him, the beast’s powerful muscles flexed, and its huge tongue pushed him down its reeking throat, which groaned with pleasure. He almost couldn’t breathe. Everything was dark. He tried to swing his sword, but the space here was too tight to move. He felt exhausted, with his stamina depleted, but fought the growing urge to sleep. Then he fell into a chamber filled with bile that burned his skin and subtracted one health every few seconds. Yet he still held Herakleia, and kept both his head and hers above the surface of the acid. Then he bumped against something that was hard and soft at the same time—the armored Roman soldier the creature had swallowed earlier.

“What?” the man screamed in the darkness. “Who are you?”

“Me?” Alexios said. “Uh—Alexios. Alexios Leandros.”

“Leandros? Which century are you?”

“First century.”

“That’s impossible. I’m in first century and I’ve never heard of you.”

“Look, can we talk about this later? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re inside a monster’s stomach or esophagus—”

“You’re one of the fugitives!” the soldier said.

“That’s crazy. No—I just joined the century a few days ago.”

“Nobody introduced you.”

“Maybe you weren’t there when I arrived! Things have been pretty crazy for the last few days…”

“You aren’t in first century.” The soldier reached out and felt Alexios. “Where’s your armor? You aren’t in the legions at all!”

Guessing that he was about to be attacked, Alexios raised his Gedara sword just in time to deflect a blow from the soldier. Alexios then lunged forward, thrashing in the bile, and his blade sank into the man’s flesh. The man cried out, then stopped moving.

When are these Romans going to learn? Alexios thought, as the voice informed him that he’d gained some XP.

The creature was moving. Everything inside the dark chamber sloshed about—the bile, the corpse, and Alexios and Herakleia. Without hesitating, Alexios plunged his blade into the closest wall and sawed through.

The ketos has taken critical damage! the voice shouted.

The creature shrieked so loudly Alexios thought his ears would burst. At the same time blood and seawater rushed through the gap as the blade tore the beast’s flesh. Alexios fought to get through the water gushing in, but the pressure was too strong. Meanwhile, the creature was writhing in agony and throwing Alexios, Herakleia, and the soldier’s corpse back and forth.

Alexios sheathed his Gedara sword and grabbed the wound with his free hand, pulling himself out into the sea while clutching Herakleia to his side. Freed from the monster, which was howling in the depths, he kicked with all his strength for the ocean surface—too dark to see. His lungs were burning, the voice was warning him that his oxygen was gone, and he was close to sucking mouthfuls of seawater into his lungs. He opened his mouth, unable to suppress the need to breathe any longer, so desperate he could swallow the entire ocean in one gulp.

At that moment he breached the surface and gasped. It only took three breaths to recover enough oxygen to restore his intellect and remember that he was also holding Herakleia’s head above the water. He kissed her—breathed for her—and even braced her against his chest so that he could perform a kind of reverse CPR. He breathed for her lungs and pumped blood for her heart again and again, refusing to give up.

Suddenly Herakleia vomited, and her muscles flexed and pushed her away so that she slipped beneath the surface. But she could swim, and pushed herself up again and gasped and coughed. More than anything Alexios wanted to hug her, but he was afraid she would get hurt. The voice announced that he had leveled up to Apprentice Healer.

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“Herakleia!” he said. “Can you hear me?”

“Alexios?” she cried. “Alexios!”

They hugged, kicking their legs so they wouldn’t sink. Then they swam toward land—a dark mass obscuring the stars—flipping onto their backs whenever pulling themselves through the waves grew too difficult. By the time they reached the Paralos, the sky was pink, and they were so tired they could barely move, though both had improved their swimming skills. Alexios still found it hard to keep his head above water. Herakleia hauled him onto one of the ship’s oars that was still dipped into the waves. They both clung to this and caught their breath, almost too tired to raise their heads.

“Gontran,” Herakleia whispered—since that was as loud as she could manage. “Diaresso—tell me you’re there!”

Someone peered over the side of the ship. Was it a Roman soldier?

“Hey, look who it is!” Gontran shouted. “Diaresso—give me a hand. We caught some fish!”

They flung down a rope and pulled their friends onto the deck. Alexios and Herakleia lay there coughing and dripping water.

“I don’t believe it,” Gontran said. “We thought you were dead! Are you alright?”

“I’ve been better,” Alexios said.

Gontran laughed.

“Tell us, boy,” Diaresso said. “How did you escape the belly of that foul beast, like unto a second Yunus?”

Too tired to speak, his stamina almost at zero, Alexios patted the sword that was sheathed at his side.

“You cut your way out?” Diaresso said.

Alexios nodded. “Yeah.”

“First time I’ve heard of anyone gutting a fish from the inside,” Gontran said.

“Subhanallah, it is a brave thing you did,” Diaresso said to Alexios. Then he glanced at Herakleia. “That is twice he has rescued you!”

She was so tired she could only nod.

Diaresso and Gontran brought Alexios and Herakleia belowdecks, helping them change into dry clothes, though Alexios made sure to place the manual into the pocket of his new tunic. They then brought the two youths to their hammocks and covered them with blankets.

“But how are we going to get out of here?” Alexios began, his head swaying. “We’re still moored at a Roman city. It's too dangerous.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Gontran glanced at Herakleia, who was already asleep. “Whatever happens, it won’t be as bad as getting eaten by a sea monster.”

Before he had finished speaking, Alexios was asleep.

***

Though Gontran was only ten or so years older than Alexios, he felt an almost fatherly affection for him, and brushed his damp hair from his forehead. Then he returned to the deck and sat on a rowing bench with Diaresso.

It was strange. Since the ketos had attacked the ship and killed nearly an entire Roman century—Diaresso and Gontran had finished off the few stragglers who escaped belowdecks—the city remained silent. No one bothered them.

“Maybe it was the entire garrison that came out here,” Gontran whispered to Diaresso. He was afraid to disturb the sleeping town, even if the quay was at least a bowshot distant.

“Indeed,” Diaresso said. “It seems that no soldiers remain in the city.”

“Maybe the people inside the city heard the monster. And then they said: ‘No thanks. The soldiers can handle this.’”

Diaresso chuckled. “I see not a soul stirring. The polytheist wretches recruit their legions from across the Empire of Rûm, do they not? And they mix their legions, rotating them here and there so they acquire no regional loyalties. Perhaps the result then is that the cities they defend care little if they die. They are like unto a foreign occupier, are they not?”

Gontran glanced belowdecks. “Did the kid really slice his way through that monster?”

“I cannot imagine how else he might have escaped.”

“Maybe it shat them out.”

Diaresso laughed. “You know it never could have digested them so quickly.”

“They tasted bad. It puked them up.”

“And they are too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Still,” Gontran said. “We have to get the hell out of here. I don’t think we can row our way out.”

“That much we know.”

“Sooner or later the city’ll wake up. Even if the people have nothing but pitchforks, it’ll be enough to kill us.”

“If the city folk fail to attack, the Romans will eventually find out and punish them.”

“What should we do? There’s still no wind.”

“All we can do is wait, and pray for a fair breeze. Either that, or we may consider surrender.”

Gontran looked at Diaresso, and then they both laughed.

“Still can’t believe we made it through the night,” Gontran said. “A hundred times I thought we were dead.”

“If we survive into old age, it will make a good story for our grandchildren.”

Gontran shook his head. “They’ll never believe us. They’ll think we’re out of our minds.”

Diaresso turned to him. “They will be right.”