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

Magnus had been busy, attending to his duties as King and the Head Mage of the Magic Tower. Lukas had not gotten a chance to speak to the old man since the graduation ceremony and Lukas now finally had the chance to reveal to him all that he'd learnt.

They were here to talk about the Church.

And the fact of the matter was that the Church of Oceanus was not the cause of concern. They had never been their true enemy. It was the man who stood at the centre of it all, the man who ruled from the shadows, it was none other than King Daerion of Nozar, Head of the Ittriki Clan. He was the man who controlled the Church. The nobles. The economy. The very foundations of Hiraeth's power structure bent beneath his will.

When Lukas laid out all the pieces on the table, Magnus fell silent.

The revelation did not shock him—not entirely. The Kingdom of Nozar's shadow had always loomed large.

It wasn't too hard to learn that the King of the most powerful Empire on the face of Hiraeth turned out to be the big bad guy.

"I should've known," Magnus finally concluded, his voice heavy, distant, like he was speaking to somebody else off in the distance. "We used to be friends, you know. Playmates when we were young. I served as the Vassal for Easthaven and I spent much of my childhood in Nozar. Daerion and I...we fought together in wars, stood side by side…but even then, I saw it. I saw his addiction to power. It consumed him endlessly. He was never satisfied with just victory."

His eyes hardened, the weight of regret sharpening his words. "That's why we chose different paths. I pursued knowledge, creation…something that would outlast me. But Daerion? He pursued domination. And I was a fool to assume that his pursuit had ended."

The old man looked across the table at Lukas, his gaze searching.

"Easthaven is wealthy, yes. But we are not strong enough to face both Nozar and the Church. They have more men. More gold. More influence. If we openly oppose him, it will be a war we cannot win." The old man's hands tightened around his cup, a flicker of genuine uncertainty flashing across his face. "Even I do not know how I can resist him."

"That is exactly why you need allies. You need the Merchant Guild. You need us, Your Majesty." Velena replied with a grin.

"Well, go on then." He said to her but the Countess simply shook her head and replied: "You're asking the wrong person, Your Majesty. The one who's been running the Merchant Guild is not me. The True Head of the Merchant Guild is this boy right here."

That familiar flicker of surprise crossed Magnus' face, and it never got old for Lukas. It was the same look every single time someone realized that the true mastermind wasn't the experienced, silver-tongued merchant but the young dragonborn standing calmly at her side.

The King of Easthaven sat back, steepling his fingers beneath his chin, his gaze flickering thoughtfully between Lukas, Jesse, and Velena.

The old man's eyes lingered on Jesse for a moment longer, studying him.

"So…I assume you are another of the draconic kind," Magnus deduced, the old man was still sharp as ever. "Of noble blood, no less. Just like Lukas."

Jesse met the old man's gaze without hesitation. He may have looked like a boy who could very well be Rosalia's age but his eyes…those eyes carried the weight of years beyond his stature. The same weight that lived in Lukas' gaze, the weight of having spent centuries in the Underworld. For Jesse, that weight came from the sheer intelligence that he possessed that was far greater than even what the draconic kind was normally capable of; which translated to a mind that far surpassed any human.

The boy before Magnus Elarion was no boy at all. But Jesse Sterling was not the main focus of their meeting today.

Jesse leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Before you even think about securing the Tower, you need to solidify your grip over Easthaven. Nozar may have the Church, but Easthaven's strength has always been its economy. And right now, the economy is in trouble."

Magnus' eyes narrowed. "The storms."

Jesse nodded. "The storms have made Easthaven's ports unreliable. Weather has been horrid. Traders are looking elsewhere. The nobles are losing money, and their patience won't last forever. The Magic Tower's inventions can only do so much, even if it is a great source of the Kingdom's economy. If you lose the support of your nobles, you lose Easthaven."

"And you're saying you can fix this?" Magnus asked.

"Not fix," Jesse said. "We can't stop the weather, but we can find trade routes where the weather is not as affected, good enough for us our ships withstand the storms. We can develop ships that can possibly weather the storms too, build alliances with coastal towns, we can open land routes that bypass the worst of the damage. We can even deploy our own spellcasters to deal with the most terrible storms to ensure our vessels continue to sail. Maybe even employ some of the Tower's Mages to do the same. The Merchant Guild already has the infrastructure in place—we just need your cooperation to accelerate it."

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Magnus tapped his fingers on the table, considering his proposition.

Jesse continued, "Right now, the Church is what the people rely on. They pray for better weather and it is no doubt that the Church is also playing a large hand in keeping Easthaven's economy afloat. Let's say Easthaven's economy stabilizes under your rule, the nobles will stay loyal to you, not because of blood or heritage, but because their wealth depends on you. Not the Church. Not Daerion. But you. You'll be untouchable here in Easthaven. That's your first step."

"And the second?" Magnus asked, still testing him.

Jesse's gaze sharpened. "The Tower. It's clear the Church buys out the brightest talents during the graduation ceremonies through sponsorships. But if the Merchant Guild steps in—if we start sponsoring graduates ourselves, like we did with Lukas—we can start cultivating mages outside of their influence."

He glanced at Lukas, then back at Magnus. "The Merchant Guild's sponsorships will offer freedom. A chance to practice magic without bending the knee to the Church or Nozar. Over the years, as more of these mages rise through the Tower, the next generation will owe nothing to the Church. The Archmages on the Council are getting old. All we need to do is make sure the future belongs to us."

Magnus finally broke into a faint smile, his respect for Jesse becoming harder to hide. "How in the world does a boy like you know all this?"

Jesse simply smirked. "I do my homework, Your Majesty."

There was nothing Magnus could say to that. On paper, it was a brilliant strategy. On the battlefield of politics and power, it was even more dangerous. The pieces were aligning. The plan wasn't just possible—it was practical.

Lukas could see it now. The Merchant Guild would be their dagger in the dark. The silent hand that could tip the scales in Easthaven's favor. It would take more than just a dragon's power to ensure that the Tower was rid of the Church's influence, especially knowing the extent of their backing.

The King of Nozar's web stretched far, but Jesse's empire was growing just as quickly in the shadows.

Magnus Elarion leaned back in his chair, his gaze heavy on Lukas, Velena and especially Jesse Sterling.

"You have given me much to think about," Magnus finally says, his voice low. "But tell me, why would the Merchant Guild fight for Easthaven? Why take this risk? We are friends, Lukas, I trust you with my granddaughter's life. But...this is no small ask. What do you stand to gain from this?"

Jesse started to answer, but Velena subtly gestured to him to wait.

This answer to this question did not belong to the Merchant Guild.

It belonged to Lukas Drakos.

"Because our people still lie in chains."

Magnus' brow furrowed.

"In Easthaven, I know dragons in captivity are rare, almost non-existent. But in the Kingdoms of Nozar and Khaitish, tens of thousands of my people remain slaves. Treated as beasts. Forced to fight for entertainment, to work without rest until they can move no more. To act as trophies for a war that has come to an end centuries ago." Lukas' hands clenched into fists on the table. "I won't allow it. Not anymore. One day, Magnus, I will make it so that no dragon will ever be chained again. And if that means we must go to war with the Kingdoms of Humanity…then so be it."

Jesse drew in a sharp breath but Velena's expression remained neutral. Neither of them had known Lukas would say that.

Magnus' smile faded entirely. His sharp eyes pierced through Lukas, searching, weighing, calculating.

"Why are you telling me this?" Magnus asks, voice quieter now, but no less firm. "What are asking of me, my boy?"

Lukas meets his gaze without hesitation. "When that day comes, I want Easthaven to stand with Linemall. An alliance. I'm asking you to stand with us."

Magnus exhales deeply and closes his eyes, the request pressing against his soul like a boulder. For a long moment, he says nothing, his thoughts far away, his heart torn.

"You are asking me for Easthaven to stand with you, Lukas. You ask me for something no King can give lightly," Magnus whispered softly. "If what you say is true then...you mean to bring a Second Great War down upon us. A war that would drench Hiraeth in blood. Countless...will die, Lukas Drakos."

The King leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, folding his hands together. "You ask me to place the lives of my people—who are my responsibility, as the Dragons of Linemall are yours—on the line. To fight alongside Linemall. So tell me, Lukas…"

Magnus' gaze sharpened. Intense. "Can you guarantee that your people will not lose again?"

The silence was deafening. Lukas opened his mouth. But no words came. Because he can't. He can't guarantee it.

The silence spoke louder than any answer Lukas could give him.

"That," Magnus said, leaning back with a weary sigh, "is why I cannot say yes."

His voice hardened, but not without sadness. "Please understand, Lukas, it is not because I do not believe you. Not because I do not believe in the freedom your people deserve. But it is because I am a King. And my duty is to my people. I must ensure their safety above all else."

Lukas nodded. Because he understood. He understood in a way only those put in a similar situation could understand. Ones who were placed in a position of great responsibility, the responsibility of so many lives that were not their own.

Velena said nothing.

Jesse watched the old man with quiet frustration, but Lukas simply sat there, absorbing the gravity of the conversation's somber conclusion.

Magnus stands. "But know this. If you can prove to me that victory is inevitable—if you can give me some kind of guarantee—then perhaps I may find the courage to choose otherwise. But until then, my boy, I'm afraid my answer is no."

Without waiting for a response, Magnus Elarion turned and left the room, his robes brushing the stone floor as he took his leave.

The path forward was never going to be easy. But now, it was undeniably clear that it might be far harder than Lukas thought it would be.

How could victory be a guarantee? How could it be guaranteed when they had the Hero fighting their battles for them? How could it be guaranteed when they had Oceanus, the very god of Hiraeth on their side?