SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Princess Neela rose above the sea floor, her silhouette framed by the swirling radiance of the Sea God’s Legacy Trident. The sharp ends shimmered with celestial blue runes, and every pulse of its power seemed to command the tides themselves.

Around her, enemy forces knelt with their heads bowed so deeply that even the ocean’s floor trembled in submission.

The soldiers of the Coral-Spirit-Clan and the Ancient Sharks, still kneeling from Kent’s earlier show of divine suppression, raised their heads to see who now held the Trident. And when they saw Neela, a wave of silent submission passed through them like a shared breath.

“The sea has a new sovereign,” a Coral general whispered.

“Glory to the First Princess,” a Shark elder muttered, tears rolling down his weathered face.

From the ancient Shark Clan to the vengeful Coral Spirits, none dared to resist the divine pressure that now emanated from her grasp. The battlefield, which just moments ago threatened to erupt in chaos, had fallen into a reverent silence.

Her voice echoed across the deep waters like a decree from the heavens.

“I am Neela of the Naga Clan, First Princess and Trident Bearer of the Sea God! This war ends now. Your lives are spared by the mercy of the one who brought back the Sea God’s will!”

The opposing generals—seasoned warriors with coral-encrusted armor and ancient scars—shivered as her gaze swept over them. Slowly, reverently, they placed their weapons on the sea bed. Sacred spears, bone daggers, enchanted shells—each dropped with the weight of surrender.

Behind her stood the man who had made the impossible possible—Kent.

He watched calmly, arms behind his back, his robes of woven spirit-sea silk fluttering gently with the tides. His eyes didn’t glow, nor did his body radiate divine fury anymore. Yet the aura around him—an ethereal command that bent both sea and soul—remained unshaken.

At that moment, the Naga Clan’s Patriarch emerged. His golden-scaled cloak trailed behind him, beard flowing like tendrils of seaweed touched by holy currents. His eyes locked with Kent’s, filled with astonishment and unspoken reverence.

“Young Master Kent,” he began, his voice strained yet awed, “how… how did you succeed in awakening the Sea God’s legacy, when countless chosen ones failed before you?”

Kent, however, didn’t answer. His gaze remained distant, as though calculating something else entirely. Then, in a low voice, he asked, “How many days have passed since I entered the Forbidden Abyssal Cavern?”

A hush swept over the Naga warriors. Even the sea currents seemed to still, listening.

“Eighteen days,” Second Princess Nyara replied gently, stepping forward. Her seafoam-green gown shimmered as she approached him. “You’ve been gone exactly eighteen days.”

A flicker of concern passed through Kent’s otherwise tranquil face. He turned toward the vast sea wall at the eastern edge of the Naga domain. “Only thirteen days remain,” he murmured. “The Golden Heir Tournament begins soon.”

A wave of protest rippled through the Naga ranks.

“You’re leaving?” Neela asked, lowering the Trident. “You’ve just returned. Stay a while… let the people honor you. Let the healers tend to you.”

But Kent shook his head, the golden glint in his eyes unwavering. “There are two matters I must settle before the tournament. I cannot delay.”

The patriarch stepped forward again. “Then before you depart, please accept this.” He extended a hand, and a radiant storage ring floated toward Kent, adorned with runes of high marine enchantment.

“This ring contains half of the wealth of the Naga Clan—treasures harvested across millennia, weapons sealed by our ancestors, spirit pearls, divine coral essence. Take it. It’s but a token of our gratitude. If ever you require more—no matter how great the cost—you need only ask.”

Kent accepted it with a quiet nod. “Then I will not hesitate, should the need arise.”

Turning toward the ocean’s edge, he began to ascend slowly. As the waters grew lighter above, a gentle voice called from behind.

“Wait.”

It was Nyara.

She followed him, leaving behind the silent gazes of her kin. Her silver hair swayed in the currents like a moonlit tide, and she moved with grace honed through generations of royal tradition.

“I’ll accompany you to the surface,” she said softly.

Together, they glided through the ancient coral forests, past glowing whirlpools and submerged ruins once home to forgotten sea gods. Small spirit fish danced beside them, drawn to Kent’s fading divine aura. The world around them was a kaleidoscope of serenity—but their silence crackled with a different energy.

At the very edge of the sea world—where the sacred boundary shimmered between ocean and sky—Nyara finally stopped.

“Kent,” she whispered.

He turned to her, his expression unreadable.

Nyara’s fingers clenched slightly. Her voice trembled with boldness.

“I do not speak this as a princess of the Naga Clan, nor as one indebted to your heroism. I speak as a woman… as someone who has watched you, trusted you, and grown to admire you beyond words. I wish to take you as my partner—not by law or alliance, but by heart.”

Kent blinked, stunned—not at her words, but at the raw, genuine emotion they carried. There was no hesitation in her voice, only truth.

The sea around them paused.

Kent stepped closer. He gently took her hand.

“I accept,” he said finally. “But not today.”

Nyara’s heart stilled. “Why?”

“I have too many burdens left to settle. A partner deserves not just a man of power, but a man at peace. I will return for you… once I have earned the right to stand beside you, not above or beneath you.”

A tear glided down her cheek, drifting upward in the water until it crystallized into a luminous pearl.

She smiled. “Then I will wait. Not as a princess. But as the woman who believes in the man beneath the divinity.”

Kent leaned forward, brushing his forehead against hers. “When I return, our bond will shake not just oceans—but realms.”

And with that, he turned and surged upward, breaking through the barrier that separated water from sky. A trail of golden light followed in his wake, as though the sea itself bid farewell to its favored visitor.

Far below, Nyara watched until his silhouette vanished into the heavens. And in the quiet that followed, she whispered to herself—

“Come back to me, Human.”