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

The Merchant Guild's ship creaked with the lull of the harbor, but down below, in the level where they kept the dragons and wyverns, there was no movement, no sound, just deathly silence.

Jesse and Rosalia had returned long ago but the young princess was now in her quarters, fast asleep.

Neither Rosalia or Velena was present because this conversation wasn't theirs to hear.

This wasn't for the Countess of Ilagron Village or the Princess of Easthaven to be a part of.

This was a conversation that only those of draconic origins had a right to be a part of.

Jesse stood right next to Lukas, leaning against one of the support beams, arms crossed. He didn't speak either, his jaw clenched tight.

Valkari stood near the wall, her eyes red and almost full of unshed tears. She had not cried, not yet at least. She looked at Lukas—his face hard and unreadable—and tried to speak.

Lukas hadn't spoken a single word since the three dragons of nobility gathered in this room.

"I—" she started, voice low. "My Lord, I didn't mean to—"

But he didn't let her finish whatever plea she planned to make.

The air cracked with force as the Crown activated. The ring of radiant light blazed to life above Lukas' head, humming with the fury of ancient power. Its glow spread through the room like wildfire, casting long shadows against the walls of this room.

Every creature stirred at once.

Then, they knelt.

All of them. Dragons. Wyverns. Great beasts of old and dying, younglings who had never seen Linemall alike. They lowered their heads in silence before the wrath of a Dragon Lord. Even when trying to find Valkari, he had not ever summoned the Legacy to life to its full extent; always making sure to hold its true power back for its intensity would draw unwanted attention to him.

Now, Lukas did not hold back the Crown's power.

The pressure was suffocating, all of them feeling the weight of the Legacy which sat heavy on Lukas' brow.

Valkari flinched as the light hit her, her body shrinking slightly beneath the sight of it but she did not kneel.

"You did not mean to kill that boy?" Lukas asked, his voice low and full of venom. "You did not mean to tear his throat open just to silence him? He was just a boy. Not a soldier. Not a man. HE WAS JUST A FUCKING BOY, VALKARI!"

Valkari opened her mouth again, but Lukas didn't let her speak.

"You think your pain gives you the right? To act upon your rage and your hatred?" His voice rose, thundering now, echoing through the bones of the ship. "If not for Varian, you could have put us ALL in danger!"

"I lost control!" she finally shouted, stepping forward, her voice breaking. "I wasn't thinking—I just—he saw us, and I panicked—""

The Crown's light flared again with his fury. The dragons groaned quietly in reverence or in grief. Some hid their faces, others trembled.

Valkari fell to her knees not out of reverence, but of shame.

"I-...I lost control of my anger, I was caught up in my emotions. P-please! Find it in your heart of hearts to forgive me, Lord." She whispered, stumbling over her words with tears now streaming down her face.

Lukas couldn't find the words. Not because of the rage still bubbling in his chest, but because what he had seen—what he remembered so clearly—simply didn't match the words coming out of Valkari's mouth.

It had not simply been an outburst.

It had not been blind rage.

It had not even been impulsive.

Every step. Every movement. The moment the Draconic Flow within Valkari activated, the sharp claws and the scales that rang along her arm. The way she drove her hand forward—not with emotion, not with desperation, but with nearly surgical precision.

Lukas had watched it all.

And her face, Titans above, her face had been so calm. Not filled with unstoppable rage, but cold and calculating. Like the outcome had already been decided before the boy ever lifted his hand to wave at Valkari and Lukas. Like the boy's death sentence had already been decreed the moment he stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to the one who would execute that sentence.

Killing that boy had not been a mistake. It had been a choice.

And now, standing before him, watching Valkari bow her head and speak of punishment and mercy and shame, Lukas realized something far more unsettling. This—this weeping, trembling girl—this was the mask. This act. This part she had been playing, it had all been a lie. Since the moment they met and she had awoken in the Ilagron Estate after Lukas had rescued her from the hands of the House of Fortunes, he had always felt she was far too dramatic; immediately swearing loyalty to him as if that would earn his trust in a matter of seconds.

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The Valkari who had torn out that boy's throat from his neck was the Valkari who had remained hidden under that mask.

This was the real Valkari Ishtar.

The room felt heavier now.

The halo above Lukas' head still burned. And yet the silence between them was deeper than any roar of judgment.

Valkari looked up, searching his eyes. And she saw it in his eyes. The shift, the understanding and the horrible realization.

Lukas wasn't seeing her as who she pretended to be anymore. He was seeing her as she truly was.

Immediately, the dragonborn turned to Jesse. If anyone would speak for her, it would be him.

Lukas had noticed it, of course he had—the way they stood close, the way she looked to him first whenever something felt uncertain, the way their touch lingered whenever they were together.

There was something between them.

Lukas had never asked what that bond really meant for it wasn't his business who Jesse chose to give his love to.

Now, Valkari's eyes were pleading, pleading him to take her side; to defend her in any way shape or form. And Jesse looked back at her like he'd never seen her before. His fingers tightened at his sides.

For a second, it looked like he might say something, might argue on her behalf. But then he looked away.

"I'm sorry, Valkari," Jesse finally spoke, breaking the silence that hung in the air as Valkari looked to Jesse with expectant eyes. "But there's nothing I can say. You put Lukas in danger. You put all of us in danger. And to kill a boy, a boy who was likely just as young as Rosalia?"

The Dragonborn of the Skies let out a shaky breath.

"That is something I cannot defend." Jesse finished.

Her lips parted, but no sound came. No one would defend her for what she had done. Not even Jesse. Not even him.

Lukas stepped closer to her, the air thick with tension, the weight of everything that had just happened pressing down on the room like a storm that refused to break.

Valkari didn't move. She didn't speak. She simply stood there, watching him approach, her breath held and her shoulders locked in place.

Lukas didn't shout. He didn't roar. But when the Dragon Lord spoke, his voice was colder than the winds that swept over Linemall's peaks, steady and unshaking.

"Until we leave Nozar," he declared, each word slow and deliberate, "you will not step above deck. You will not so much as look at the world beyond the walls of this room. And if you so much as think about putting us all in danger again…"

He was close now, close enough that she had to look up to meet his gaze.

The glow of the Crown shone brightly around him, enveloping the room, seeping into every corner.

"I swear," Lukas whispered, "on the River Styx herself…that I will kill you, Valkari. Without hesitation. Without a second thought."

He watched her then. Watched as her mouth opened slightly, still no words forming. Watched as the calm mask she always wore finally cracked.

In her eyes, Lukas saw it.

Not guilt.

Not shame.

But fear. True fear. Not of punishment. Not of exile or imprisonment. But of death.

Because Valkari Ishtar believed him. She believed that he would do it. And she knew he could.

Lukas turned on his heel and leaving Valkari to sit with those words, the steel in his step unyielding.

Jesse hesitated only for a second before following after him, casting one last unreadable glance back at Valkari.

They emerged above deck, the wind brushing against them, the dark waters of the inner docks stretching out under the moonlight. The cool night air met Lukas like a slap to the face, chasing away the heat of fury that still pulsed in his chest. Lukas let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair, his fingers threading through the tangled strands.

Jesse stood beside him, silent. He didn't need to ask what Lukas was thinking. He already knew.

And then the young dragonborn spoke.

"You did the right thing," Jesse muttered softly.

Lukas glanced at him, surprised by the certainty in his voice.

"I meant what I said," Jesse continued, staring out across the water. "All those years ago when I bent the knee. I told you that you're the only Lord I chose to serve, Lukas. And I'll stand by that choice until the day I die."

He turned to Lukas then, a small, wry smile tugging at his mouth.

"No woman—no matter how beautiful she may be—is ever going to change that."

Lukas stared at him, then let out a dry, tired laugh. It wasn't much—but it was real.

"That already makes you a better man than most," Lukas replied with a chuckle.

Lukas turned toward Jesse, his chest still heavy but his heart lighter than it had been all night. Without a word, he pulled the boy into a hug, strong arms wrapping around the younger dragonborn with a warmth that Jesse had never felt from Lukas. Jesse tensed at first—he always did—but then relaxed into it, the tension in his shoulders melting away.

Lukas ruffled his hair as they pulled apart, the gesture rough but full of affection.

"You're a good kid," Lukas told him, his voice quiet, hoarse. "Better than I ever was."

Jesse rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about not being a kid anymore, but Lukas only laughed.

Because it didn't matter how old Jesse got. He'd always look out for him.

He had to.

Because in a world like this, surrounded by lies, blood, and ruin, people like Jesse were rare. People who stuck to their morals. People who stood their ground. People who'd die for their loyalty.

Lukas looked out across the deck, the moonlight painting silver lines on the water's surface, and knew that no matter what came next—no matter the enemies, the battles, or Oceanus himself—he would not face it alone.

Jesse Sterling might very well be the future of Linemall.

No.

He would be its future.

Just as he swore to protect Rosalia, he would ensure the same when it came to the young dragonborn.

Lukas would make sure of it.

Whatever it took.