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

Before Lukas could react to everything that had just happened, the princess surged forward; pushing past Jesse's outstretched arm.

"Rosalia, wait—!" Jesse reached for her.

But Jesse was far too late to prevent what was coming.

Rosalia's knee shot up with brutal precision and force, slamming into the young prince's groin with a sickening thud.

Soren's face contorted into a mask of agony. His mouth opened in a silent scream before a strangled gasp escaped and he collapsed like a sack of rocks, clutching his privates as he rolled on the ground in utter agony.

Lukas and Jesse winced simultaneously.

"Oof," Jesse muttered, crossing his legs instinctively. Even Lukas grimaced.

Every man reading this probably would have too.

But the loudest reaction came from behind them.

King Daerion Ittriki burst into laughter, a deep, booming cackle that echoed across the training yard. His shoulders shook with the force of it as he slapped his thigh, utterly unbothered by the fact that his son was currently writhing in the dirt.

"Right in the bloody family jewels!" he bellowed. "Oceanus spare him—I think even I felt that one!"

Lukas blinked, caught off guard by the sheer absurdity of the king's amusement.

"Should we…stop her?" Jesse asked as Rosalia tried to lunge forward again, her fists clenched, eyes burning with fury. Quite honestly Lukas would have preferred to allow Rosalia to continue beating down on the King's bastard but he knew he had to hold her back from making the situation any worse than it already was.

Lukas stepped in first, arms gently looping around her from behind to hold her back from pummelling Soren to death.

"Easy. Easy now, little one. You've made your point."

"But he—!" Rosalia protested, still struggling lightly against his grip.

"I know," Lukas said softly. "Believe me. I know."

Eventually, she calmed down and only then did Lukas loosen his grip on her.

The boy was carried off to be tended to by a few red-faced servants, still groaning in pain, and Rosalia was bandaged up by palace healers. Fortunately, the cuts Soren had inflicted upon her weren't deep. She didn't need stitches, just time. But Lukas could see the faint tremble in her hands as she stared at the bloodstained fabric of her sleeve.

If the bastard had been just a few inches closer, the cut might've done some real damage.

Once the adrenaline had faded and the training yard quieted, Lukas sat beside her as she explained what had happened.

Jesse stood nearby, arms crossed, a tight look on his face as he filled in the gaps.

Rosalia had been training on her own. Nothing strenuous—light drills, simple footwork. Both Lukas and Celina had been busy with their respective duties, and she hadn't wanted to waste the day. That was when Jesse and Soren showed up. At first, it seemed like nothing more than a casual visit. But then, without warning, the boy had issued a challenge.

"I guess he recognized me. He said we should just settle it now," Rosalia recounted, her voice quiet. "That there was no point waiting until we came of age to fight for the position of the Divine Knight Candidate."

Lukas's brow furrowed. "And you agreed?"

She nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. "A light spar. Jesse made it clear—no magic. Just swordplay."

Jesse added, "I made it crystal clear to both of them. I warned them. It was supposed to be a practice bout, nothing more."

But it hadn't stayed that way.

The prince had broken the rules. He had unleashed his Divinity mid-fight: the Divinity of Dissection.

The Ittriki Clan's magic, a power that allowed them to rise and eventually rule over Nozar for generations to this very day. It was a ruthless magic that tore through defences like paper.

Lukas remembered it well. He clenched his fists, the sight of the wounds on Rosalia's arm causing him to feel angrier than he already did. Because if he'd taken a bigger swing, Soren might just have lopped off the princess' arm in one clean cut.

The second eldest prince of Nozar, the one who had challenged him to a duel on Anriette's ship, had wielded the same power. Lukas had always known the potential that the Ittriki Clan's Divinity held and it was limited by the fact that the Rear Admiral could only channel it through his blade.

Perhaps if he had not met his demise at the hands of Rodan Drakos, he would have gone on to accomplish what Soren had.

Because it was already clear to Lukas, even based on the glimpse he'd caught of that magic crackling in his hands, that the King's bastard son had already surpassed his older half-brother.

Soren could channel the Divinity of Dissection through his body and it seemed like he could do it with ease.

No wonder Daerion hadn't mourned the loss of his son. He had more—he had better—options waiting in the wings.

The King wasn't just a manipulator. He was a strategist. A man who saw even his children not as people but as pieces on a board.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Celina's words from the day before echoed faintly in Lukas' mind. Give him a chance, she had said.

The King let out a long, exaggerated sigh as he turned back toward them, his usual grin creeping back onto his face.

"They should fight." Daerion finally concluded.

Lukas' expression hardened and he had to keep himself in check for he was still standing before a King of the most powerful empire in Hiraeth.

"They will not get a chance like this again. While they are both here, I think it'd be a good opportunity for both of them to test their skills." the King continued, raising a hand as if to calm the fire he saw rising in Lukas. "A proper match. Rules. Oversight. Adults present to keep things civil."

The King of Nozar looked almost too pleased with himself. Lukas could see it clearly—he didn't just want a match. He wanted a comparison. A showcase. He'd seen the fire in Rosalia's eyes as she struck back against his son and now he wanted to see what she had to offer.

King Daerion wanted to see if Rosalia Elarion was someone that his son could defeat.

Lukas opened his mouth to object, but Rosalia beat him to it.

"I want to do it," she said with a nod, stepping forward, her tone firm. "Let me."

He turned to her slowly. "Rosalia—"

"I want to," she insisted. "Please. You have to trust me."

Her eyes locked onto his, fierce and determined, and behind that fire was something deeper.

She didn't just want to prove herself to Lukas.

Lukas followed her gaze, and sure enough, Jesse stood at not too far away, watching it all unfold in silence. The set of his jaw, the worry in his eyes—it was clear he wanted to step in again. But he stayed put, just as Lukas had told him to before.

She wanted to prove to Jesse that she wasn't just a child.

Rosalia's hands curled at her sides.

It was awfully clear that she had a crush on Jesse now, there was no denying that. Lukas looked at Rosalia for a long moment. Her shoulders were squared, her stance steady. The bandage on her arm was still fresh, but her spirit didn't waver.

"I'll win, Lukas. I know I can." She whispered, her voice so quiet that only he could hear it.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

"Fine," he said at last. "If you're going to do this. Do this right. Beat that kid's ass, little one."

Rosalia smiled, the tension easing from her face.

"Deal."

Within minutes, the training ground had been cleared out with servants and guards forming a loose perimeter while healers stood on standby at Lukas' request. The air buzzed with a quiet tension as Lukas and Jesse watched from the side, Rosalia already taking her place in the center of the yard.

Her opponent entered soon after—recovered, though his pride might still be aching. Soren looked calmer now, focused even, but Lukas could see it: the subtle twitch in his fingers, the way his jaw clenched. The boy wasn't here just to spar. He was here to win.

Jesse leaned closer to Lukas, his voice low. "You sure about this?"

"No," Lukas replied. "But she is."

Jesse's gaze lingered on Rosalia, softer now. "I hope you know what you're doing here."

In the centre of the yard, the two challengers faced one another.

A steady breeze swept through the open space as the sun cast long shadows across the stone. The training yard had fallen silent, the air thick with anticipation.

This wasn't going to be a friendly spar. Everyone knew it.

No matter how many times the adults around the yard reminded them to keep it clean, that they were only to push each other, it was clear from their eyes alone—they weren't going to hold back.

To Rosalia, this was more than a match.

Before her stood the only other true contender to the title of Divine Knight Candidate.

If she could beat him, then maybe—just maybe—she could prove to everyone that she truly belonged on this path. Not as someone coddled by her grandfather, or protected by Lukas, but as someone worthy in her own right.

Lukas watched from the sidelines, arms folded, jaw tense. Jesse stood next to him, unusually still. Neither of them spoke.

Then it began.

The boy's Mana surged in an instant, dark red energy flaring around his hands like a cursed flame. The air warped with pressure. The unmistakable hum of his Divinity echoed across the field.

The horrifying truth of the Ittriki Clan's magic was that the Divinity of Dissection did not just sever the body. It could cut through Mana itself. That made it one of the most dangerous Divinities one could possess. Somehow, this boy—barely a year older than Rosalia—had already inherited it. Worse yet, he wasn't even using a blade to channel his DIvinity through. He didn't need to.

Lukas shifted slightly forward, every muscle ready to move at the first sign of real danger. If Rosalia faltered, even for a moment, he would end this. She would not fall here. He would not let her.

Despite all that, with the threat of Soren's Divinity looming, a strange calm settled over him.

Rosalia Elarion stood tall, her stance composed, her expression serene.

Then the water came. It began as a soft ripple beneath her feet, a shimmer like dew on glass. Then, in spiralling threads, it rose. Liquid tendrils weaved around her limbs, her shoulders, her blade. It wasn't violent or chaotic. It was elegant. Intentional.

The princess was wielding the Divinity of the Seas.

It had taken years for Lukas to learn its will. To bend the oceans, to command the tides without question. But Rosalia did not need to force the magic to her control. She was speaking to it. Communing with it. Whispering in ways even he couldn't comprehend.

Rosalia had never truly tried to see what was possible with this ability of hers.

For most of her life, she feared this ability of hers. She was scared of what others would think if she did use it. But ever since her fight with Celina, Rosalia had begun to discover what she was truly capable of.

Lukas still remembered the day. It was a few weeks after her fight with Celina. Leading up to that moment, Rosalia had always been vague in what she wanted. The Mana that she summoned from the world around her was raw and unpolished. That much was clear. But what if it wasn't?

What if she wanted something more precise? More original?

Slowly, the Mana began to reshape itself. She emulated the same signature that she'd felt every single time Lukas had used his own Divinity. And she had brought it to life in her very own way.

Rosalia...was truly a wonder.

The water gathered and surged in a spiral around her as she advanced. Her aura didn't pulse with force like her opponent's—hers flowed. It breathed with life, a force of nature that was Mana itself taking on the Divinity that had been passed down for generations in the Drakos Household.

"She's wielding your Divinity," Jesse whispered beside him, in awe.

Lukas grinned.

There was a reason he'd allowed this fight to take place.

It was the same reason why he felt so calm despite it all, watching the battle unfold before his eyes.

It was because he knew that Rosalia Elarion would not lose this fight.

It was because Lukas knew she was going to beat that kid's ass.