Hotto tried to convince himself that his loss was nothing else than a terrible nightmare. How else could he, being such an experienced and talented summoner, have lost to that insolent girl and her mermaid? It was simply impossible.

He had stayed at the beach long after everyone else had left and moved on their days. His body still wavered from exerting too much Essence and his thoughts still swam around his mind like a school of panicked fish.

Watching the rising tides wash the scars of their match off the battlefield, Hotto tried to revaluate the duel in his mind and figure out what had gone wrong. Had he been too overzealous or too hesitant? Maybe he’d grown too careless? Or was it just all those things combined?

Hotto wished he could curse that bloody girl but he knew that she wasn’t to blame for his defeat. This disaster was entirely his fault and his fault alone. If he would have just remained focused, he could have easily dismantled Zorya and her Summon.

Before coming to the Unagi Peninsula, Hotto had been on a hot streak; bludgeoning through the continent, taking down one talented master after master. But it was exactly his success, Hotto realized, that had made him complacent and sloppy. He had feasted on victory so much that he forgot how much he needed to keep winning.

Hotto lingered around the battlefield until nightfall, pacing up and down the jagged coastline for hours as he mentally replayed the match over and over again. Until he finally dropped to his knees and frustratedly slammed his head against the pebbles. Where was his hunger? Hadn’t his ambition always carried him?

“Why am I such a fucking failure?” he cried at the ocean before smashing his head down another time. A stinging pain ran through his skull, followed by a trail of blood running from a cut on his forehead.

Growing up fatherless, while his mother worked evenings at a small-town brothel, Hotto endured a lonely upbringing. Although his mother had always treated him with love, he was never able to get past the stigma their peers had imposed on their family. To this day, he grew enraged when he thought about it.

With effort, he pushed himself back to feet and slumped towards Unagi Village. Whether he liked it or not, it was getting late and he’d probably had to spend his night there before resuming his travels.

As he walked closer, Hotto noticed the villagers were having some sort of feast. He heard laughter and cheers, and noticed the warm lights and scent of good food. They were probably celebrating his defeat. Those assholes.

Hotto let out a deep grunt. He was only twelve when he ran away from home. Never had he enjoyed a community like this. He was self taught and self made, successfully connecting to two different Summons without a fancy school ever teaching him to properly cultivate.

The thought made him realize something. Maybe his experience in Unagi wasn’t a complete failure. Perhaps he could still battle that old bastard.

Hotto quietly walked into town, sneaking his way to the famous Unagi School. This was a golden opportunity; there was a good chance that everyone was at the party. Except for that old goat, he was probably already in his chambers.

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It was easy to get into the school. The gate was unlocked and there was no soul in sight. Hotto rapidly navigated through the complex, passing the disciples’ living quarters, the kitchen and even the supply storage before reaching the family’s private dwelling.

Hotto chuckled as he opened the door to the retired master’s bedroom; this was far too easy. He found the old man asleep on a single mattress across from a large open window.

He took a good look at his target. The man used to be a legendary summoner, a master of tremendous power and wisdom, but such a reputation was hard to imagine now. The elderly master was fragile and pale, looking more dead than alive.

And yet, Hotto believed he found a great opportunity to face an esteemed opponent. If he called his Lou Carcolh now, he could crush the man and add another big name to his list of victories.

Why would he not do such a thing?

Hotto had crawled out of the dirt all by himself. He didn’t have any money growing up, nor did he come from a good family and not one ‘honorable’ master had ever offered to train him. No, Hotto had honed his skills through battling on the streets. All by himself.

He closed his eyes, slowly pulling himself into a summoning trance. He had trouble focusing; his muscles still cramped and his head hadn’t stopped pounding one bit.

When he opened his eyes again, something distracted him before he could summon the Lou Carcolh. A foul smell suddenly hung in the air and moments later, something shot past the corner of his vision.

Hotto turned, noticing a strange creature perch beside him on a chair in the corner of the room. The thing vaguely resembled a bird. Or better said, the decaying body of what once had been some kind of seagull or albatross. Hotto fluttered his eyes. Was he looking at a Summon?

Then, another being appeared. This time it was a rotting fish with thorns piercing through its scales. It swam through the room as if underwater, staring at Hotto with its death eye.

His gaze turned towards the old summoner. A dark glow emanated from the master’s eye sockets and before long the entire room was filled with undead sea creatures.

“What’s going on?” Hotto murmured in disbelief. How could the man summon so many beings at once?

“I… summon the…Bakekujira…” the old master managed. “Void..Summon. The Ocean’s…Revenge…”

Hotto nearly fainted when he turned around. A truly massive Summon that he could only describe as a floating, skeletal whale had appeared outside of the window. Unlike the rotting creatures in the room, the Void Summon’s bones were white and completely cleaned out. Blue flames danced around its motionless body, playfully swaying in the evening breeze.

The Bakekujira slowly opened its mouth and before Hotto could even move muscle, the Summon swallowed him whole in one single swoop. Hotto desperately tried to resist getting sucked in but his struggles were in vain against the Summon’s overwhelming power. With Hotto trapped between its ribcage, the Void Summon then rose into the sky like a dirigible and drifted off.

Hotto was almost too afraid to look down but when he finally did, he noticed how high they had gotten. Under any other circumstance, the view would have been beautiful. Lights still twinkled at the town’s square but from up high, the townsfolk looked no bigger than ants as they partied around their little doll houses.

The Bukekujira dragged Hotto along the entire peninsula, until it finally descended when they neared the mainland. There, the Void Summon gently blew the terrified Hotto into the shallow waters off the coast and turned around.

He watched the Void Summon evaporate into the night with a wide, frazzled stare. The old man truly was a master beyond his comprehension. Hotto had never known it was even possible for a Summoner to command a Summon from such a distance.

He gasped, almost swallowing an entire gulp of seawater. How could someone command so much Essence? The idea terrified him as he thought about it.