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

The Magic Tower's grand hall brimmed with life.

Candles suspended in the air, their flames gently flickering, illuminating the marble columns and gilded walls that had borne witness to centuries of tradition. Robes of every color filled the space—apprentices, scholars, and dignitaries—all gathered to mark the end of one journey and the beginning of another.

At the center of it all, on the raised dais beneath the stained-glass skylight, stood Magnus Elarion—King of Easthaven, Head Mage of the Tower, and the man who had taught Lukas far more than just magic.

His voice, though aged, still rang with power.

"You stand here today, on the shoulders of those who came before you."

The hall quieted, the words settling into the bones of every apprentice who would soon cast off that title.

"You have studied, you have fought, you have climbed—not only the floors of this Tower, but the barriers within yourselves."

His gaze swept across them, pausing briefly on Lukas—Klein, as they knew him. There was no words needed. Only the knowing glint shared between master and student.

"You have carved out a path through storms, through fire, through failure. And yet, you stand here now—not to be satisfied—but to remember this truth: there is always more."

His hand rose, gesturing skyward, toward the unseen heights above them.

"Do not shackle yourselves to the idea what you know to be. Reach for what could be."

A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd.

"Push the boundaries of magic. Of knowledge. Of the limits we know to be true."

His words hit Lukas harder than he expected. Because he knew Magnus wasn't just speaking to them. He was speaking to him. To the dragon who would endure long after this hall had faded into dust.

"Today," Magnus continued, "you become official mages of the Tower. But may you never rest on that title alone. May you continue to climb. To continue to search for more. And to continue to dream the impossible. Because you never know when that dream may one day come true."

There was no grand fanfare. No magical display. Just the weight of those words, etched into the hearts of everyone present. Because that was the kind of magic that lingered. The kind that lasted. And the graduating cohort cheered as the Head Mage finished his speech with a theatrical bow.

The ceremony, despite its grand ideals, had long served another purpose. While the speeches and rites held meaning, the true heart of the gathering lay in what followed: the sponsorships.

It was nothing more than a glorified marketplace, those were the very words that the old man had used to describe the graduation ceremony.

A chance for the nobles, the merchants, and the silent hands of the Church to place their bids. To stake their claim on the Tower's rising stars and secure influence over magic's next generation.

For many, getting a sponsorship was the only way to climb further—to gain access to the resources, the grimoires, the relics otherwise hoarded by the elite of the Magic Tower.

And over the years, the Church had played this game better than anyone. They had bought out most of the Tower's brightest. Secured them with gilded chains, dressing their contracts in the language of opportunity but lacing them with obligations that would see them serve the Church's will until their dying breath.

Lukas sat cross-legged on one of the stone benches that lined the area just before the stage. Thomas Harrow seated beside him, fidgeting with the cuffs of his robe, his knee bouncing restlessly. This was the same boy who had carried out Lukas' assessment test, allowing him to enter the Tower in the first place.

"Calm down, Harrow," Lukas muttered, leaning in, voice low. "You'll be fine."

Thomas shot him a wide-eyed glance, still pale. "I-I don't know, Klein. What if it's the Church? What if...I don't get a choice?"

"You always have a choice," Lukas said. "Just remember that."

"Easy for you to say," Thomas huffed, trying to settle his shaking hands. "You'll probably get a dozen sponsors lined up, fighting to have you. You don't have to worry about anything. I'll be lucky if I even get a single offer to my name."

Lukas gave him a crooked smile. "Yeah? You sure about that?"

Before Thomas could respond, Magnus Elarion's voice called the room to order once again.

"There is one more tradition we must uphold before we begin the sponsorships."

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All eyes turned to the dais.

"The announcement of this year's valedictorian," Magnus declared, his tone calm, but there was something warm in his eyes, something almost proud. "The apprentice who has shown not just extraordinary skill, but unrelenting discipline and the potential to lead this Tower forward."

Thomas tensed beside him. And then Magnus spoke the name.

"Thomas Harrow."

The hall erupted in polite applause. There were a few surprised murmurs, some nobles turning to exchange notes, others whispering as if they had expected the title to fall to Klein—the Head Mage's own apprentice.

This was no accident however. Lukas had known this moment would come.

The whole time he'd been climbing the Tower, drawing attention, blazing a path no apprentice had ever walked before—he had made sure the spotlight stayed on him. He had shouldered the weight of expectation, the eyes of the nobles, the endless curiosity of the Church.

All so someone like Thomas Harrow could work quietly in his shadow.

While Lukas made the noise, people like Thomas had been doing the real work. Thomas had studied harder than anyone Lukas had ever seen. Always with his nose in the scrolls, practicing late into the night. Helping those who struggled. Teaching those who were overlooked. And Lukas had made damn sure that no one could take that from him.

So when Magnus Elarion called his name, when the crowd began to murmur in genuine surprise, Lukas just smiled.

Thomas was frozen in shock, mouth slightly ajar. "Wait—me? He…he really said my name?"

Lukas nudged him with an elbow, amused. "Of course he did. You deserve it."

Thomas blinked at him, still caught between disbelief and rising elation. "But—I thought you—"

"Relax." Lukas grinned, arms crossed as he leaned back on the stone bench. "You've earned it, Harrow. Go on, mate. You've got a royal handshake waiting for you."

And when Thomas finally scrambled to his feet, hurrying toward the dais, Lukas could not help but smile.

The valedictorian of the Tower's graduating class wasn't just given an empty title for those rewarded were offered a full-ride sponsorship—one that bypassed the bidding war of the nobles and the manipulation of the Church. Resources, relics, mentorship—provided directly by the Elarion Royal Family, free from external influence.

It was the one true guarantee of freedom.

Magnus had meant to give the position to Lukas. But he refused.

Lukas had made sure it went to the right person instead.

From the stage, Thomas turned, his face alight with the kind of joy Lukas rarely saw anymore. Their eyes met, and Thomas lifted the certificate in triumph, beaming.

Lukas nodded slowly, satisfied. Because this was the kind of future for the Tower that Magnus had dreamed of. A future where people could rise because they deserved to—not because someone bought them.

When Lukas' name was called, the entire hall fell into an expectant hush, the silence thick and almost palpable.

"Klein. Will you please step onto the stage?" The Head Mage called, a proud look in his eyes.

Lukas rose from his seat, every step toward the stage heavy with anticipation.

As he ascended the stairs, Lukas felt the weight of hundreds of eyes—nobles, merchants, guild leaders, and Church dignitaries—fixing on him like predators sizing up their prey.

The upper balconies were filled with Hiraeth's richest and most powerful, their gazes sharp and calculating, as if this were less a ceremony and more a bidding war for the brightest talents the Tower had to offer.

It felt more like an auction than a graduation ceremony if Lukas was being honest.

Lukas stood before a large wooden counter and on that table lay a strange array of crystals—gleaming prisms, a sophisticated evolution of the old man's earliest creation. Each crystal bore the emblem or name of a sponsor: the High Priests of the Church, the Khaitish Warlords, and more—each representing factions vying for influence over the Tower's promising graduates.

With a single touch or a subtle gesture from an interested party, a crystal would glow and rise from the table, signalling an offer of sponsorship. The crystals allowed the chosen graduate and the sponsor to partake in a private conversation to discuss terms and expectations.

Lukas expected dozens of crystals to illuminate, eager hands reaching out to claim him. The Head Mage had warned him that he expected for there to be many, including the Church, trying to get Klein on their payroll.

But the table remained dark. No light. No sign. No offer.

The silence that followed was deafening. Eyes darted around the hall, whispers rippling like a tide breaking on a shore.

Why hadn't a single sponsor stepped forward for the Tower's rising star?

Lukas' gaze scanned the crowd, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. No flicker of hesitation or conflict betrayed his calm exterior, but inside, hundreds of thoughts were running through his head.

What in the world was going on here?

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, until at last the Head Mage's voice cut through the stillness like a blade.

"A new sponsor has come forward."

All eyes snapped to the table as a single crystal burst to life—a deep, shimmering blue that glowed with a fierce intensity, casting flickering reflections across the room. Slowly, a single crystal began to rise from the table, drifting upward like a beacon in the dim light.

And Lukas' eyes narrowed as he saw the name inscribed above where the crystal had been placed onto the table:

"The King of Nozar, Head of the Ittriki Clan; King Daerion has made Klein an offer." The Head Mage announced.

The voice that Lukas now heard within his head was low and raspy, as if the guy had smoked one too many pipes. Yet it was calm and measured, the words resonating through Lukas' mind as his hand closed around the glowing blue crystal.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Klein." The voice carried the weight of power and experience, every syllable deliberate. "I've heard many things about you."

There was a brief pause, the air thick with expectation.

"Now, it is time for you to hear me out because...I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse."