Chapter 14: Icy Defeat
The monster was a terrible beast, an abomination from the ocean depths. In the twilight, its silhouette was barely discernible, a mass of shifting shapes and tentacles emerging from every part of its body. Its size was colossal, much larger than Minervamon could have imagined. Despite its shadowy appearance in the vast darkness, it was terrifyingly real. Its body dripped incessantly, creating a fine, icy rain over the ocean's surface.
Minervamon watched the monster with a cold calm. Unlike Nefertimon, whose expressionless mask reminded her of the uncertainty of the future, this beast did not inspire fear in her. She was accustomed to facing digimon much larger than herself and had rarely encountered difficulties in defeating them.
She glanced at Vikemon. He was deeply focused, fully aware that this moment would mark his life. Minervamon's presence unsettled him; this was something he had to do alone. This monster had terrorized the inhabitants of the Frozen Lands for as long as anyone could remember—it was time to end its reign of terror.
The monster began to lash out with its tentacles, each one slicing through the air with a menacing hiss. At first, Vikemon dodged them with relative ease, his combat experience allowing him to anticipate the beast's movements. The tentacles struck the icy surface with great force, sending shards of ice flying everywhere.
Vikemon moved with surprising agility for someone of his size. His large maces swung and clashed against the tentacles, deflecting their attacks with precision. However, the monster did not relent. Each time a tentacle was deflected, a stronger and faster one took its place. It was as if the beast were testing Vikemon's defenses, searching for a weakness.
The blows grew more intense, faster. The air was filled with a deafening sound, a mix of the tentacles striking the ground and the clash of Vikemon's maces. The icy surface began to crack under the pressure of the battle, and the ocean waves pounded the shore with greater violence, as if the sea itself responded to the monster's call.
Vikemon retreated step by step, his movements increasingly difficult. His maces grew heavier with each strike, and his strength began to wane. The tentacles moved with supernatural speed, swirling and attacking from all angles. Vikemon dodged some, but others managed to graze his armor, leaving visible marks.
Suddenly, one of the tentacles struck the ground with such force that a large wave rose from the ocean, crashing against the shore and splashing Vikemon with icy water. The impact destabilized him, costing him a valuable second of reaction time. A tentacle seized the opportunity and wrapped around his leg, pulling him towards the sea.
Vikemon fought with all his might, striking the tentacle with his maces, but the beast did not loosen its grip. Another tentacle lunged at him, wrapping around his arm and pulling with equal strength. The situation grew desperate, but Vikemon, summoning an unprecedented strength, let out a roar. It seemed to increase his abilities. Suddenly, the tentacles surrounding him froze, and he was able to shatter them, freeing himself from their grip.
As the battle continued, the monster's fury intensified. Its attacks grew more frantic, each strike echoing with a destructive resonance. The tentacles lashed the ground, sending clouds of snow and ice into the air. The earth trembled under its blows, and the roar of the waves mingled with Vikemon's grunts of exertion. Vikemon's defensive tactics, which had worked so far, began to falter.
Minervamon remained still, merely a spectator of the battle. She respected Vikemon's request not to intervene and would only break her promise if the ruler's life was in danger. She observed every movement with trained eyes, analyzing the situation with cold precision.
The monster's initial blows had been almost slow compared to Vikemon's agility. Minervamon had watched how Vikemon moved with unexpected grace, easily dodging the tentacles. However, she knew this was only the first phase of the battle. There was something unsettling about the monster's apparent calm, something that made her think it had not yet shown all its power.
As the tentacles moved in an increasingly complex pattern, Minervamon reflected on the nature of this beast. Its shadowy forms in the darkness, the malevolent gleam in its eyes, and the way it controlled the marine environment all indicated a more formidable enemy than she or Vikemon had ever faced before. She felt a mix of admiration and concern for Vikemon, who had decided to face such an adversary alone.
She remembered her only combat against Vikemon, a test of strength and strategy. Vikemon had proven to be a cunning and tenacious warrior, capable of enduring blows that would have felled others. However, this time was different. The monster relied not only on brute strength but also on cruel cunning and unbridled ferocity.
As the tentacles grew faster and the blows more powerful, Minervamon noticed Vikemon beginning to show signs of fatigue. His movements, though still precise, lacked the initial energy. The blows from his maces resonated strongly but seemed less effective against the monster. Minervamon felt a growing unease within her. She knew Vikemon's defensive tactics were reaching their limit, and although his roars helped him regain some of his lost energy, they didn't seem to be enough.
Vikemon struck the beast's tentacles with his large maces, halting its advance toward solid ground, but there wasn't much more he could do. If he charged at it, he would end up sinking into the sea, which would be a sure death. However, this defensive tactic was only prolonging the inevitable: either Vikemon had some ace up his sleeve, or he would be lost. He had escaped the deadly grip once before, but it didn't seem to be enough.
The waves crashed against the icy shore with increasing force. Minervamon suspected it was due to the monster and that if Vikemon didn't act quickly, the outcome could be disastrous. The monster's tentacles seemed endless, each one striking and pounding with tremendous power. Despite their size, they moved with unexpected speed, and each missed blow left a trail of destruction in its wake. The sound of the tentacles cutting through the air and smashing into the ground was deafening, and the echo of each impact resonated across the vast expanse of the Frozen Lands.
Vikemon rolled on the ground to avoid being caught by those tentacles. The battle intensified, and Minervamon, though silent, analyzed every move. She knew Vikemon must have prepared something special for this battle, but so far, she hadn't seen him deploy any innovative tactics; he had already used those tricks against her in the past. She questioned whether she should intervene now. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of reasons and doubts. "Is he in mortal danger?" she wondered, evaluating every second of the fight. She knew that rushing to help could hurt Vikemon's pride and break her promise. But what value did a promise have if it cost an ally's life?
Minervamon's mind raced through possible strategies. If she were the one fighting, what would she do differently? Perhaps she would use speed and agility to strike at the beast's weak points, or maybe she would try to bring the fight to more favourable terrain. Vikemon could move better than she could in the snowy landscape that stretched before them. However, both would struggle to fight in the sea. At that moment, all she could do was watch and be ready to act.
The monster's tentacles now moved like whips, quick and deadly. One of them struck the ground with such force that a massive wave rose from the sea, drenching Vikemon in icy water. Minervamon felt a knot in her stomach as she saw Vikemon stagger. The tentacles began to coil around his body, and desperation was reflected in his eyes.
Minervamon's determination solidified. She could not allow Vikemon to be dragged to a certain death. Although she respected his wish to face the monster alone, the reality was clear: without her intervention, Vikemon would not survive. The warrior goddess took a deep breath, preparing her mind and body for the imminent battle.
Every step she took toward the fray was a mixture of defiance and resolve. She knew that this intervention was not only to save Vikemon but also to confront a menace that threatened them all. Raising her sword, Minervamon charged into the fight, ready to face the beast that dared to challenge the bravery and sacrifice of her comrades.
With a single strike, she severed the tentacles holding Vikemon. The monster showed no sign of pain, which increased Minervamon's sense of unease. She had expected a reaction, a cry of agony, but there was nothing. The coldness with which the beast accepted its wounds was disturbing.
As Minervamon removed the inert tentacles from Vikemon's body, she realized that the true battle had only just begun. With a decisive move, she summoned a tornado that swirled snow and water, creating a temporary barrier to distract the monster. Seizing that moment, she led Vikemon to safety, aware that the monster would not cease until both were defeated or until she uncovered the source of its power. This was a battle not just of strength but also of wit and perseverance, and Minervamon was determined to face it to the end.
To her surprise, the monster began to slowly submerge until only its head remained above water. Three large red eyes gleamed in the darkness. Minervamon wondered if this was a defensive tactic before launching a counterattack. She remained vigilant, ready for any move the monster might make. However, it seemed to fade away. It must not have wanted to directly confront her.
She approached where she had left her recovering friend. She looked Vikemon squarely in the face. He was exhausted, his face drawn and sweaty, breathing rapidly with an almost nonexistent pulse. It seemed that beast had drained all his energy. She lifted him onto her shoulders. Vikemon weighed more than she had anticipated, but she managed.
Minervamon gradually moved away from the coast; it was difficult to navigate the snow-filled terrain, especially with the added weight of Vikemon.
She glanced back. The monster was motionless. Completely still. As if it were preparing something.
"We need to get away from here as quickly as possible," Minervamon said to Vikemon.
But he was absent. Not unconscious, but in a trance-like state. Minervamon wasn't sure if it was due to exhaustion, pain, or simply the fact of being defeated.
The farther they moved, the smaller the figure of the monster became. However, Minervamon's concern did not wane. From the outside, it seemed like a normal battle; uneven but normal, after all. But as she observed Vikemon, Minervamon realized that the beast possessed special powers. Vikemon could not have ended up in this state otherwise. She would have to seriously investigate what it could be.
She set off toward her temple, watching as the monster submerged again into the depths of that frigid ocean. The echo of the battle resonated in her mind, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead weighed on her shoulders almost as heavily as Vikemon's unconscious body.
Coaltmon was waiting for them when they arrived at the temple. The serpent rose majestically, its scales shimmering in the faint light filtering through the entrance. With effort, Minervamon hoisted Vikemon onto Coaltmon's back, who carried him inside gently. Despite the cold outside, the interior of the temple offered a warm and tranquil refuge.
"What happened?" Coaltmon asked, his deep voice resonating against the stone walls.
Minervamon gave a detailed summary of the events, describing the battle with precision and the strange retreat of the monster.
"I've never heard of such a creature," Coaltmon responded, frowning. "Despite all the years I've been here."
"Vikemon says it's the duty of every king to combat it," Minervamon replied, her voice filled with concern.
"Do you think it will return?" Coaltmon asked, his eyes shining with unease.
"I don't know. I altered the outcome of the fight. According to Vikemon, if he had won or tied, it wouldn't have bothered him for the rest of his reign. If he had died, he wouldn't have survived to find out," Minervamon explained, her voice firm but with a hint of doubt.
"Do you think you did the right thing?" Coaltmon asked, his tone filled with a calm wisdom.
"Of course," Minervamon responded firmly. "I warned Vikemon that if things went badly, I would help him."
"Even so, you know that once he wakes up, he will be angry," Coaltmon observed, his piercing gaze fixed on Minervamon.
"You're right, but there's no need to worry. His anger never lasts long, especially not with me," Minervamon said, though a betraying sigh escaped her lips, revealing her inner doubts.
"It seems that..." Coaltmon began, his voice softer, "Vikemon would have preferred to perish in battle."
Coaltmon had the ability to see things clearly and always from an objective standpoint, something Minervamon perhaps lacked.
"It was for the greater good," Minervamon simply replied. "I wasn't going to satisfy his pride by allowing his death."
"In that, I must agree with you," Coaltmon conceded, though the concern did not leave his eyes.
Minervamon approached the bed where Vikemon lay, observing his exhausted face. She felt a weight on her heart, a mix of responsibility and guilt. She knew she had made the right decision, but Vikemon's expression, even in unconsciousness, made her doubt.
"What else can we do for him?" Minervamon asked quietly, almost to herself.
"Let him rest. His strength will return in time, but we must be prepared in case the monster comes back," Coaltmon said calmly.
Minervamon nodded, knowing that the battle was not over. As she left the room, she cast one last look at Vikemon, promising herself that she would do everything possible to protect him and find a way to defeat the monster once and for all.
Vikemon began to recover. As soon as he could, he stood up and made a motion to leave. Minervamon stepped between him and the door.
"Let me go," he said, trying to push past her.
"I don't think that's wise. You need to rest. Besides, we should also talk about what happened."
"I'll rest in my castle, where I belong," Vikemon insisted.
Minervamon watched as Vikemon slowly regained his strength, his breathing becoming more stable and some colour returning to his face. She felt the need to clear up many things, especially the questions that had tormented her since the confrontation with the monster. She decided to address the issue directly, hoping to understand better what had transpired.
"Vikemon, did you know that the monster had strange powers?" Minervamon asked, her voice calm but firm.
Vikemon looked up, his eyes reflecting fatigue and resignation.
"Of course I knew," he replied, with no trace of surprise in his tone.
Minervamon frowned, frustration beginning to boil within her.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she insisted, her voice rising slightly.
Vikemon sighed, his gaze hardening.
"Because I didn't want you to intervene in the battle. Besides, it's part of my legacy as king of these lands. It's something I had to do alone," he explained, his voice full of quiet pride. "And the monster didn't want you either. That's why it didn't follow us," he added, with a determination that left Minervamon speechless for a moment.
Minervamon tried to process this revelation. If the monster didn't want to face her, it meant that her presence had altered the balance of the battle in a way she hadn't anticipated. Had she underestimated the monster's power or overestimated her own ability to handle the situation?
"So you knew you would die if you had to face the monster alone?" Minervamon asked, her thoughts entangled.
Vikemon nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off her.
"And I knew that if you faced it, you would die too. I didn't want to risk your life, Minervamon," he said softly.
That admission hit Minervamon like a hammer blow. She had underestimated the gravity of the situation and the depth of the sacrifice Vikemon was willing to make. Despite her initial skepticism about the possibility of perishing in the battle, she couldn't deny Vikemon's concern. She hadn't had the opportunity to measure her strength against the monster, but she was confident in her combat abilities. However, now she understood that Vikemon saw something she had not considered.
Vikemon knew with certainty that he was going to die if he had to face the monster alone. And he knew that if Minervamon faced it, she would too.
Minervamon realized then that Vikemon was not willing to talk about it any further, at least not at that moment. She stepped aside, allowing Vikemon to leave. The Viking exited the temple with a forceful push of the door, the sound echoing through the empty space left behind him.
Coaltmon, who had been observing in silence, spoke gently.
"Letting him go would have been best," said the serpent, his voice filled with wisdom.
Minervamon shook her head, still overwhelmed by her own thoughts and emotions.
"The best thing would have been for him to stay here and recover, Coaltmon. Imagine if he encounters the monster again along the coast."
Coaltmon let out a serpentine sigh.
"In his condition, I don't think he will."
Minervamon looked at her serpentine friend, the worry evident in her eyes.
"Don't be so sure."
Coaltmon tilted his head, his eyes fixed on her with an understanding that always unsettled her.
"Believe it or not, Minervamon, Vikemon is much smarter than you think. He'll stay away from the coast and reach his home safely."
Minervamon wanted to believe in Coaltmon's words, but doubt lingered in her mind.
"I hope you're right..." Minervamon responded, heavy-hearted. "I'm leaving now. Too many emotions for such a short stay."
Minervamon also departed, the weight of recent revelations pressing on her chest. She knew she had to make it to the new Olympian meeting on time, but her mind couldn't stop worrying about Vikemon and the mysterious power of the monster. As she left the temple, a feeling of determination took root within her. She had to find answers, not just to protect Vikemon, but also to understand the true nature of the threat they faced.