NOVEL NEXT Chapter 41: The Calm Before the Storm
Steaming platters of shellfish and deep-sea beasts sprawled across the obsidian table, their aromatic spices wafting through the air. Rodan was good at magic. But he was also a damn good cook. Katrina was already halfway into her second helping, cheeks puffed out as she argued vehemently with the Kraken. She had accepted Lukas' apology immediately, not really taking what he'd done to heart. She was a lot more understanding than Lukas thought she would be. But perhaps being reunited with her father meant that her mood couldn't really be ruined because she was more full of energy than he'd ever seen.
Lukas ignored them as he ate, enjoying the company. It was amusing watching the two of them bicker. The Kraken used grunts, hand gestures, and the occasional narrowed glare to fight back against her heated takes on why jellyfish should absolutely not be considered a delicacy. Why? Because his mouth was too full of food to give Katrina a proper reply.
Rodan, seated at the head of the table, cracked the faintest smile watching them go at it. Even Lukas found himself chuckling, pushing food around on his plate, not quite ravenous—but present. It was hard to imagine, given the chaos of that morning, that they'd be here. Sharing a table. Laughing. Eventually, the Kraken and Katrina's debate devolved into some strange, dramatic reenactment involving a thrown spoon, and Rodan leaned back with a sigh.
Lukas caught his eye.
A silent nod passed between the two brothers, and both men rose, leaving the bickering duo to their culinary war. They stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the black tides of the sea below. For a moment, neither spoke. And then Lukas broke the silence.
"I never gave you an answer."
Rodan's eyes didn't move from the horizon. "I know."
Lukas clenched the railing, his knuckles bone white. He was nervous. He turned toward Rodan, voice quiet but firm.
"I don't know. I don't think that…I'm worthy enough to sit on the throne as I am now."
Rodan nodded slowly, not surprised by Lukas' response.
"It's not an easy road," he murmured. "To be a Lord isn't to rule with power. It's to carry your people. To suffer for them. To fight even when your body breaks. You've already done that once, Lukas. You survived it."
No. He hadn't. Lukas looked down at his hands. At the faint, silvery scars still etched into his skin. Scars that their grandfather had given him.
"Do you not wish to rule any longer?" Lukas asked.
Rodan's mouth tightened. "It's not a matter of what I want, brother. The Kraken broke me. Controlled me. If someone like him could do that… then what about others? Stronger ones. I can't protect Linemall if I can't even protect myself from being turned into a weapon."
Silence lingered between them like a breath held too long.
"I never wanted this throne," Rodan continued. "Not because I didn't care—but because I knew it was never mine. I kept it warm because someone had to. But you?"
He looked Lukas dead in the eyes.
"You have the Robes, Katrina told me. You have the Crown, it was the first Legacy you inherited while we were in that cave. And now, I know that you have the Crest. It is your duty to serve your people, Lukas."
Lukas swallowed hard. "I'm not ready."
Rodan turned slightly, brows knitting.
Lukas didn't look at him. His eyes were fixed on the dark horizon like it held the answers he couldn't find in himself.
"I don't know if I can take on this role," Lukas muttered, his voice thick. "I don't know how to lead. I don't know how to be the symbol these people need."
A long silence stretched between them. Then Rodan exhaled sharply and stepped closer.
"You think I was ready when the elders gave me the throne? No one expected our father to die in the Great War. You think I was ready to sit on that throne?" he asked, voice low. "You think I didn't look at myself every night and wonder if I was just pretending? Wondering when they'd all realize I wasn't the one who was meant to sit on the throne? That I wasn't you? "
Lukas looked at him now, eyes narrowing.
Rodan continued before Lukas could give him an answer. "I did it because someone had to. Because our people needed a Lord. And now they need you, Lukas."
Lukas looked down again. His hands clenched at the railing, holding on as if it were an anchor holding him down.
"What if I mess it all up?" he whispered.
Rodan's reply was firm.
"Then you'll learn. You'll fail, and fall, and rise again. That's what being a Lord is. That's what it means to be one of the Lords of Linemall."
Rodan's hand came down, gripping his shoulder tight.
"You don't get to shy away from this. Not after what you've survived. Not after what you've shown me. The world won't wait for you to feel prepared, Lukas. And our enemies sure as hell won't."
And then, finally, Lukas asked the question that had been sitting on his tongue all night: "…What's the plan?"
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Rodan blinked. Lukas met his eyes again. The fear hadn't vanished—but there was something new behind it. A hardened edge. Determination forged in uncertainty.
"Do we sail for Ilagron?" Lukas asked. "Or do we go straight to Linemall?"
He saw a flicker of annoyance in Rodan's eyes. Rodan must have thought that Lukas was just trying to change the subject.
"I plan to sail north," he said. "Along the coast of Easthaven. All the way back up to Ilagron."
Lukas turned to him, surprised. "Avoiding Nozar's domain?"
Rodan nodded. "Exactly. That region is crawling with marines, all of them gunning for my head. And after what we did to their fleet, they're probably on high alert."
Lukas frowned. "But that's a long route."
"It is," Rodan agreed. "Months. Maybe even years if we take it slow and stay under the radar."
Rodan gestured toward the hull below, where crates of loot from Rodan's conquests as the Leviathan lay hidden in the cargo hold.
"But with the treasure we took, we can help build the Merchant Guild. The one that Jesse is in charge of right? That kid is smart. Sometimes the kid's too smart for his own good. He'll know how to put all of this treasure to good use. Gold still speaks louder than any royal decree, and if we're going to get Linemall's economy back on its feet, we need them."
Another gust of sea breeze passed between them, and for a while, neither brother spoke. Then Lukas looked down at his hands—scarred, calloused, healing.
"…When Lady Kaitlyn, your mother, asked me to become Lord," he began quietly, "I told her I wasn't ready."
Rodan looked at him but said nothing.
"I still feel that way," Lukas admitted. "Even after everything. Maybe more now than ever."
Rodan's gaze softened.
"But," Lukas continued, meeting his brother's eyes, "I want to become worthy. I want to grow. I've seen your strength, Rodan. I've felt what the Divinity of the Seas can do."
Lukas clenched his fists. "I may have the Crown. And I may have the Crest. I may have all the Legacies that make me a worthy candidate to sit on the throne. But I'm nowhere near strong enough to rule as one of the Lords of Linemall. Not yet."
Not yet.
Rodan stared at him for a long moment. Then a grin slowly crept across his face.
"Train me. During these months. I want you to teach me all that you know. I'm weak. Far from what is required to sit on that throne. But I've seen what you can do, what you're capable of. I…I want you to teach me Magic. The Divinity of the Seas."
"This won't be easy, Lukas," Rodan warned. "You say you want to grow, and I'll make sure you do—but I'm going to push you to the edge. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. There will be days where you'll think you can't take another breath, let alone another step. Days when you'll hate me for what I put you through. If you want to become someone worthy enough to be a Lord, you need to break past your limits. Again and again. Until there's nothing left to break."
There was no mockery in Rodan's tone. No exaggeration. Just the truth—the raw, unflinching truth of what it took to stand as a Dragon Lord. But Lukas didn't flinch. "I'm the fucking double champ. Bring it on." Lukas replied.
Rodan stared at him…then let out a short, sharp laugh. He had no idea what Lukas was saying but he knew that he was ready to do what it took to master the Divinity of the Seas. And that was all he needed to know. He gave Lukas a nod now and there was pride in it. And maybe—just maybe—a little relief.
Rodan stuck out his hand for Lukas to shake. Lukas looked at the hand for just a second. He had fought his entire life to be recognized, to find meaning. And now, he could fight for something that mattered to him. For the people who meant something to him. Lukas gripped Rodan's hand tightly and returned Rodan's smile with one of his own, a toothy one at that.
And in that moment, something changed. In that handshake, Lukas finally chose to walk forward—not as the boy who had died, not as the man who had fought alone—but as someone who would become something greater.
And then everything went to hell. It all happened so fast. The Kraken slammed into them, his monstrous frame crashing through their joined hands—shoving them apart. He must have seen it coming while the two brothers had been talking.
Then it was upon them: A single slashing arc, so fast it didn't sing through the air—it devoured it. The sound came late. But the effect was instant. The Kraken's body split down the middle. He had been fast enough to save them. But he hadn't been fast enough to save himself. And it was not a clean cut. It was a gruesome sight to witness as Lukas watched his familiar take the blow that was meant for them. Veins burst. Gore sprayed out in every direction like red mist raining across the deck. His ribs, like broken tusks, jutted from each half. His spine snapped and tore from its housing, coiling out of his back like a whip of exposed marrow.
A weak sputter of breath gurgled through his mangled jaw—eyes still wide, not with pain, but with grim satisfaction.
The deck ruptured next. The ship didn't groan—it screamed as wood and metal exploded apart. A perfect cut down the middle. Their vessel at sea, reduced to floating debris.
And there he stood.
Far in the distance, balanced on a fishing boat far smaller than theirs. A man in blue and silver. His blade rested on his shoulder. It had not been magic. It had not been some divine spell. It was strength. Pure. Simple. Terrifying. They had been so sure they had escaped Nozar's grasp, assuming that they were safe now, because they were so far away from Nozar territory. Little did they know, they had just been experiencing the calm before the storm.
Lukas stumbled and fell back as the ship collapsed, sinking into the ocean. He could hear Katrina's screams and Rodan staring towards their attacker. In an instant, a rage filled his eyes. But with that rage came recognition.
"It's him." Rodan growled as Lukas felt the pressure around them build to unimaginable heights.
They had never been safe. Not when Nozar had sent the Strongest after them. Not when the most fearsome Admiral of the Nozar's Navy was hunting them down. He was legend. Even Velena thought he had just been a myth.
For the man who stood before them was no stranger, at least not to Rodan.
This was the man who had killed Lord Jaren in the Great War, along with thousands of other dragons who fought for Linemall.
This was the man who they called the Dragon Slayer.
This was the man who was the Strongest in all of Hiraeth.
The Hero From Another World had arrived.