The Lord of the Seas - An Isekai Progression Fantasy [ Currently on Volume 2 ]

The next few months of the One Year Challenge raced by in a blur.

Rosalia had thrown herself into the grind, and Lukas couldn't have asked for a better student. She absorbed every lesson with a hunger that reminded him of someone else—a distant reflection of his past self.

The princess never complained. She learned fast. And when the training turned brutal, she didn't flinch. She bit down and pressed forward, again and again, through the pain, through the doubt. Lukas admired that about her. She didn't just want to win, he realized. She needed to win.

The jab. The footwork. The head movement. The sprawl.

All of it clicked for her in ways Lukas hadn't expected. She was fluid, light on her feet, beginning to understand the subtle rhythm of a fight—the delicate dance between attacking and defending.

As he watched over Rosalia's training, Lukas sometimes wondered what kind of monster she could've been in the UFC if she had been born in another world. The way she trained, the way she chased perfection—she could've become a champion. Maybe even an undisputed one.

And the best part? She was having fun. The reason why it had been so easy for her to grit through the pain because the process was never grueling for her. She took joy in learning what Lukas had to teach and pride in what she eventually accomplished.

When he told her today's lesson would be held somewhere else other than the training yard, she had lit up with the same eager energy as always.

Rosalia hadn't suspected a thing.

So when she pushed open the grand doors to one of the many dining halls of the Palace, expecting another brutal session, she froze.

Her eyes widened.

Colourful banners and red balloons filled the air, the sunlight catching the shimmering decorations strung along the ceiling.

The smell of roasted meats and fresh pastries wafted toward her. The long banquet table was already stacked with her favourite dishes. Lukas had come to learn pretty early on that Rosalia had a big sweet tooth which meant that these were all dishes that she was not able to eat during her training.

The old King, her grandfather, stood at the center of it all, a wide grin on his face as he raised his goblet.

"Come on in, Rosalia."

And then Lukas stepped up beside her, laughing as he ruffled her hair.

"Come on," he said, flashing that sharp grin. "You didn't think we'd forget, did you? Eleven's a big year."

Her throat tightened, her chest blooming with a strange warmth she hadn't noticed until now. She herself had been so consumed by her training, by the relentless pace, that she hadn't even realized the day had arrived: The day of her eleventh birthday.

Tears stung at the edges of her vision—but not from pain this time.

"Thank you…" she whispered, blinking quickly as everyone gathered around her.

Lukas leaned down, lowering his voice just for her. "You've worked harder than anyone I've ever met. You earned this."

Then, louder, he clapped his hands and grinned.

"Alright, everyone! On three!"

"One—two—three—"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROSALIA!"

And for just one afternoon, the weight of training, the pressure of the upcoming fight, the looming expectations—they all slipped away. For just one day, she was simply a child again. A girl celebrating her eleventh birthday. And Lukas promised himself he would make sure she had many more days like this.

Because he had sworn to protect her. And that meant more than winning a fight. It meant giving her the childhood she deserved.

It had taken Lukas longer than he expected to convince the old man to show up.

Magnus Elarion had buried himself in his work, dedicating long, grueling hours to the complex runic arrays required to bring the conditions of Lukas' outrageous challenge to life. Lukas, as the Head Mage's apprentice, helped where he could but his knowledge of rune craft was basic at best. This wasn't his expertise. Far from it, in fact. The burden of making sure that the runic arrangement was finished before the year came to an end had fallen mostly on the old man's shoulders.

At first, Magnus dismissed the idea of the birthday party. Too much work. He did not have time for that. The runes would not carve themselves.

The usual excuses.

But then Lukas reminded him of the past. He still remembered himself the night he had revealed his true form to Rosalia. How she had come into her room, tears running down her eyes; sobbing uncontrollably.

"You missed her birthday last year, didn't you?"

That was all he needed to say. So, just for tonight, the King of Easthaven set his work aside. Just for tonight, Rosalia could forget about the brutal hours of training, the strict diet, the relentless pursuit of victory.

Just for tonight, she could be a child. And she was—laughing, spinning in her new dress, stuffing her cheeks with cake and roasted duck, hugging her grandfather like she never wanted to let go.

Lukas watched her and smiled.

Yeah.

This was worth it.

The hours passed in the blink of an eye.

As the celebration roared on, Lukas slipped out of the dining hall, seeking a breath of fresh air beneath the cool night sky. That's when he saw her.

Celina. The Divine Knight herself.

She stood by one of the stone pillars just outside the hall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her gaze distant. She wasn't wearing her armor tonight—just a simple tunic and black trousers—and the sight was oddly jarring. It made her seem less intimidating, less like the untouchable holy warrior of the Church and a little less divine.

There was something else, too. A limp in her step. A faint wince as she shifted her weight.

The Divine Knight hadn't just been sulking these past months at the fact that her very own mentee had been stolen from her right under her nose.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Lukas had heard the stories, of course. She continued to protect Easthaven from anyone who dared to threaten the Kingdom. Even nature itself.

"It's pretty rowdy in there," Lukas said, breaking the silence as he stepped beside her. "Would you care for a drink? Or do the Divine Knight abstain from alcohol?"

Celina hesitated. He could see it in her eyes as they stabbed into him, trying to determine the underlying intent behind his offer. But after a moment, she gave a small nod. "We do not. Sure. I'll have a drink."

They sat on the stone steps, their backs to the dining hall, the sounds of celebration muffled behind them. Lukas pulled out a small bottle of whiskey he'd stashed away and offered it to her.

She took it without a word.

They passed it back and forth, neither in a rush to speak.

Finally, Celina sighed, tilting her head back to look at the stars. "Hurt my lower back. I'm getting old I tell you."

Just yesterday, the news of the Divine Knight Celina had spread throughout Hiraeth. Celina had singlehandedly hauled a sinking passenger ship at sea all the way to the shores of Easthaven. Thousands had lived because of her that day. She had been out there. Fighting for what she believed to be right. Saving lives. And she had paid the price for it.

"We all are. It's a fact of life, I'm afraid." Lukas replied, his tone light. But he took note of that. Because that sort of information would come in handy for their fight that was approaching fast.

She snorted. "The youngest ever to be chosen as a Divine Knight. Yet I'm now stumbling about like an old hag. Can you believe that?"

More silence. Lukas didn't press her. He didn't need to. He just took another sip and let the silence between them settle between them. They stayed like that for a while, two warriors with different scars, sitting beneath the stars with nothing but shared whiskey and unspoken truths between them.

For a long while, neither of them spoke.

The whiskey burned quietly in their throats. The distant hum of Rosalia's birthday celebration was still audible, but it felt like another world now—one far removed from this quiet corner where two tired souls sat under the weight of memory.

Then, Celina finally broke the silence.

"What do you know of Rosalia's parents?"

Lukas turned the question over in his mind. "Not much. I was told they died in a carriage accident. That's all I heard."

Celina let out a laugh, soft and bitter. She shook her head, eyes downcast. "Is that what the King told you?"

He frowned, catching the shift in her tone. It was spiteful.

"It wasn't just a carriage accident," she said, voice tightening. Maybe it was the whiskey loosening her tongue. Maybe it was something else. Either way, her walls—those carefully constructed iron barriers—were finally starting to lower.

Celina stared into the night. "Her mother…she wasn't just another Princess. She was once a Divine Knight candidate."

That caught Lukas by surprise.

"She was brilliant," Celina went on, a soft ache in her voice now. "She was strong, stubborn as hell. She spoke out against things that should've been left untouched. She poked at powerful people. She poked the damn bear."

She closed her eyes, the memory clearly still sharp.

"They planted a bomb in that carriage. I watched her get in. It wasn't some accident on the road, Klein. It was an execution. They needed her gone. And her husband? Collateral damage. They left behind a child barely a month old."

The weight of it hung between them.

"It destroyed me," Celina whispered. "I was her chambermaid, you know? But we were more like sisters. I promised I'd always protect her. And I failed."

Her jaw tightened, but there was a tremble in her hands now, something raw and unguarded.

"So I did the only thing I could. I swore I'd become the next Divine Knight. And I fought like a woman possessed. I didn't care who I had to beat. I didn't care how much it cost me. I would take the position she was supposed to have, because no one else deserved it. If she didn't get to become one then no one else could wear that title."

She let out a dry laugh, the kind that didn't reach her eyes.

"I became the youngest Divine Knight in Hiraeth's history. They called me a prodigy. But Rosalia's mother, she had more talent than I could ever hope to have. She could have been the greatest Divine Knight to ever live. She could have saved so many lives. More lives than I was ever able to save."

Lukas stayed silent, letting her speak.

"I wasn't part of Rosalia's life. I...I couldn't bear to be around her. She looks just like her mother. But Rosalia came to me when she was six. I still remember the look in her eyes—pure, burning determination. She told me she wanted to be like her mother. She wanted to be like me. She wanted to be one the Divine Knights. And then, she asked me to train her."

She rubbed her temples, exhaling slow and shaky. "How could I say no? She was my best friend's daughter. She was the only piece of her mother left in this world. I made it my life's mission to guide her. To push her. To make sure she became strong enough to protect herself. I needed her to be the best."

The weight of her confession settled between them like fresh snowfall—soft, quiet, but suffocating.

Celina's voice dropped, almost a whisper now. "That's why I pushed her so hard. Why I…why I was cruel sometimes. I needed her to survive in a world that took her parents away."

She finally looked at Lukas, and for the first time, there was no sharpness in her gaze. No armor.

"I truly hope she wins this fight," she whispered, her voice steady, her eyes bright with something honest and painful. "I really do."

Lukas did not know what to say. For once, he didn't have a clever retort. He did not even have words of comfort to give her. He doubted any would help heal the loss of Rosalia's mother. A loss that haunted Celina to this day.

So he just passed her the bottle again, and she took another sip, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. And finally the old man's words made sense to him: Celina was never the enemy. She wasn't truly a bad person. She wanted what Lukas wanted, even though Lukas disagreed with her methods.

She wanted the best for Rosalia. So did he.

The whiskey was nearly gone when Celina finally reached into her coat and pulled out a small, glass box.

"Here," she said, her voice quieter now.

Celina held the box out to him.

Inside sat a ruby—the largest, most immaculate gemstone Lukas had ever seen. It caught the moonlight, a brilliant crimson shimmer resting on soft velvet. It took him a moment to realize why it looked so familiar. While this one was crimson red, it was almost identical to the blue jewel embedded in the chestplate she always wore as the Divine Knight of the Church.

"She's always admired mine," Celina said, her thumb brushing the glass almost absentmindedly. "So I had this one made for her. Something she can keep till the time comes. Something she can one day place on her own armour, when the Church forges it for her the day she becomes a Divine Knight."

There was a tightness in her throat now, but she pushed through it.

"Give it to Rosalia for me, will you? Tell her…happy birthday. From me. From Celina."

Lukas stared at her for a long moment, then quietly closed the box and stood.

Without a word, he gestured for her to stand too. She frowned, confused, but she followed him anyway. And then, without warning, Lukas swung the dining hall doors open and shoved Celina inside, water spun through the air as it carried the box swiftly into Celina's empty arms.

"Give it to her yourself." Lukas, standing by the open door, grinning from ear to ear.

The noise of the party seemed to quiet all at once as heads turned. Celina, frozen in place, wide-eyed and holding the glass box like it might explode.

Rosalia stared at her, blinking. "Uh…Miss Celina?"

Celina's face flushed so fast it almost rivaled the ruby in her hand. She looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. The Divine Knight swallowed hard before she finally spoke. "...Happy birthday, Princess."

It was barely above a whisper.

But Rosalia's eyes lit up immediately, her focus snapping to the jewel now held out to her. "Is that—? Wait, is that for me? Really? This is so cool!" Her excitement bubbled over in an instant as she took the box, spinning around the hall, showing it off to anyone who would look. "Look at this! It's just like hers! This is the best thing ever!"

Lukas leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as Celina's awkward stiffness melted into something else—something softer—as she watched Rosalia jumping around the room, beaming like she'd just been handed the whole world.

Eventually, Celina glanced back at Lukas, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "I owe you one Klein," she said, her voice low but honest.

"You sure do." Lukas muttered under his breath, smirking as they stood in the middle of the hall.

She rolled her eyes, but the weight she'd carried seemed a little lighter now. "Don't push it."

And for the rest of the night, the room belonged to Rosalia, the happiest girl in all of Easthaven.