"Did you truly think your pitiful crusade would go unnoticed?" Nessie hissed, her voice now a grating cacophony. "I am ancient beyond your reckoning, Little Cleric. I have watched empires rise and fall, seen your kind scurry like ants upon the Earth. And now… you dare challenge me in my domain?!"

Columba's grip tightened on his staff, holy energy crackling along its length. His eyes narrowed, resolve hardening his features. "Your reign of terror ends here, Creature. In the name of all that is good and just, I will send you back to the hell that spawned you!"

Nessie lunged forward, a roar tearing through the air as her claws stretched toward Columba, her maw agape and filled with dark intent. Columba raised his staff, a blinding light exploding from its tip as he summoned the divine power within him. Holy light clashed with her nightmarish darkness, sending shockwaves rippling across the loch’s surface, shattering its eerie calm. Nessie shrieked as the light burned her, her stygian scales sizzling under the potential saint’s power, but she didn’t retreat–she calculated.

With cruel intelligence gleaming in her eyes, Nessie slipped back into the depths, her massive body undulating in the water like a sinuous shadow. The loch churned in her wake, beckoning him. Columba saw only opportunity in the monster’s apparent retreat, his blood pounding with righteous fury. He shouted–a mix of battle rage and divine invocation–and charged into the icy waters, numbness creeping over him as he waded deeper. Beside him, his loyal mare Skye splashed forward, her hooves kicking up shimmering arcs of water.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

But as he pressed on, the loch began to shift. Shadows thickened, creeping up from the depths, clawing their way into his mind. Columba’s grip tightened on his staff as a strange, chilling presence wrapped around his thoughts and dragged him into a waking nightmare. The loch’s dark water warped into a realm of fear. Faces of the innocent he had failed filled his vision, accusing him, their voices echoing with blame and despair. Shadows twisted into forms that embodied his worst memories and deepest regrets.

Nessie’s voice slithered through his mind, mocking and pervasive. "Is this the strength of a holy man? Do you think your light can reach me here? Foolish cleric, your faith is but a flicker in this domain."

Columba staggered, fighting to focus as the hallucinations intensified. Desperate, he raised his staff, summoning a burst of divine light to push back the nightmare. But Nessie’s darkness was relentless, closing around him like a vice. The loch’s water shifted again, turning into a writhing sea of shadowy tendrils that reached up to drag him down.

Nessie’s massive form loomed in his vision, larger than life, her serpentine body coiling around him as if to swallow him whole. He fought to push back the terror, his breath quickening, his faith clashing against her ancient power. Yet she laughed, her influence tightening with each moment he struggled. Skye whinnied beside him, but even his loyal companion seemed distant.

"In my realm, fear rules, Cleric," Nessie hissed, her voice echoing with finality. She knew he was weakening, and she relished it.

Columba shouted a prayer, a lance of holy fire erupting from his staff, piercing through the murky gloom and illuminating her monstrous form. But Nessie, gorged on centuries of mortal terror, rose like a titan of shadow and scale, unyielding. Her roar shattered the air, filled with centuries of hatred and despair, and in that roar, Columba felt a damning promise–that she would consume him utterly, mind and soul.