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

Deep beneath the Elarion Royal Palace, in one of the quietest and most fortified chambers, Lukas sat alone.

The stone walls around him were ancient, thick with the weight of generations, and for once, that heaviness served him well. What he was about to do was something that demanded everything he had.

It demanded stillness. It demanded silence. It demanded absolute focus, Lukas couldn't afford any distractions.

The cultivation path of the Draconic Flow was one of patience. Power grew steadily through it, like the water rising drop by drop. It was one that had allowed him to continually grow stronger, making small steps everyday towards the level of strength he had been able to achieve in Kairos Castle.

Yet there were moments—rare and fleeting—when a window of opportunity opened up before him; moments that did not come easy. Giving Daerion and his royal fleet safe travel was a chance to make an incredible jump by pushing past the boundaries of what Lukas thought possible; it was moments just like this that would allow for the greatest leaps in strength in his training.

Lukas would not let the moment pass him by.

Finally, he inhaled slowly, deeply, and let the breath go.

Then, Lukas called forth the Divinity of the Seas, the magic that had been passed down through generations of those who bore the Drakos Name.

It began at his core, pulsing like a heartbeat, until the magic began to spill outward—first through the veins in his arms, then flooding into the floor beneath him, threading through the cracks of stone and soil. A slow, creeping tide of his Divinity's influence that surged outward from the Kingdom of Easthaven and crawled towards the sea.

Hour after hour passed. The work was meticulous. Tedious. Painful, even. But Lukas held on, expanding the boundaries of his reach inch by inch.

This wasn't simply about brute force. This was about discipline. This was a testament to everything that Rodan had instilled in him, the Leviathan of the Deep's very own style of wielding the Divinity of the Seas: through reach and control.

Lukas wasn't simply preparing the path for King Daerion and the Royal Nozar Fleet to reach Easthaven. He was calming the seas all around the Kingdoms of Humanity, soothing the rage that so often made the waters of Hiraeth impossible to navigate in recent years.

Word had already spread of what Klein, the Rising Star of the Magic Tower, was setting out to do.

In every corner of Hiraeth, they spoke of the man who had tamed the seas. Many had dismissed it. They called it a fool's errand, illogical to even consider.

But others had listened. Ships had set sail to travel the waters, making use of this month where the rage of the seas were put to rest. All who had were now traversing the seas of Hiraeth were depending on him.

If Lukas was able to pull this off then Hiraeth could no longer call him just a Rising Star of the Magic Tower The mage that the world knew as Klein would be perhaps the greatest human mage Hiraeth had ever seen, rivalling even the Hero From Another World.

What Lukas sought now was not pure domination—he was not trying to command the seas that surrounded the Kingdoms of Humanity completely. He understood the limits of his reach, and more importantly, he understood the nature of the magic he wielded. This wasn't about asserting absolute authority like he usually did over a much smaller area. That kind of force, spread across such a vast oceanic span, would break apart under its own weight.

No. This was not a sprint, it was a marathon. This was going to take endurance and precision.

Lukas needed only to do enough—calm the currents, ease the waves and soothe the chaotic tempests just enough to make travel possible. Under his command, the seas would still be rough, but they would no longer be deadly. Ships could now pass through them. Not effortlessly, but with manageable risk.

For King Daerion's Royal Fleet and the other seasoned crews, that would be more than enough. Assuming they had skilled mages aboard, most vessels would be able to navigate the waters safely.

That was the balance Lukas had chosen.

After the first week, Lukas activated the Crown of the Dragon Lords. The Legacy's ancient magic extended across the waters like a second skin over his own. It slithered to the very fringes of his Divinity's reach, strengthening his tether to the ocean. The moment the Crown established connections with the beings that dwelled below the surface of the seas, he only had a single request.

"Lend me your eyes." And they did.

Lukas began to see. He began to see through the eyes of wandering ocean beasts. Through the flickering awareness of wild wyverns and dragons who had chosen to reside outside of Linemall. Through the drifting, fluid perception of the ocean's maine life—schools of fish, great whales and forgotten leviathans that slumbered beneath the waves.

Each perspective opened up a new corner of the sea, a new current and a new depth; and with every added vision, Lukas gained more clarity, more precision and even more stability. But even the Crown could only do so much to help him.

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By the end of the second week, Lukas felt his strength beginning to wither. Slowly and steadily, the magic within his Mana Pool began to drain. His body held firm, but his core began to ache. He could feel the pull at the center of his soul where the magic flowed.

Still, Lukas did not stop. He had endured worse within the training grounds of Kairos Castle. He had wandered through the brutal worlds hidden within the Crest. He had fought in realms of shadow and silence, where strength alone was not enough.

This? This was tough. But this was not nearly enough to break him.

Lukas kept his eyes closed. The magic around him hummed like a living thing—dense, thick, unyielding. Sometimes, in those long hours of stillness, he would feel a presence step into the room.

Rosalia. She never said a word, nor did she try to catch his attention for fear of distracting him. But Lukas knew why she came. She wanted to stay, to be near him. To show how grateful she was for what he was doing, to thank him, to show him what support she could. But even the princess couldn't stay with him for long.

The magical pressure within this room was far too much for her to handle. The very air in the room was saturated with it, crushing and suffocating. If somebody did choose to step into this room, it would feel like standing at the bottom of the sea, with the weight of the entire world pressing down from all sides. Even Rosalia, gifted as she was, could barely endure the sensation of being in this room with Lukas for more than a few minutes.

So she came and went, watching over him as he worked his magic. And Lukas remained—alone, surrounded by a storm of his own making.

The only way Lukas could describe the last week was a constant wrestling of control. Not just with the seas—but with something deeper. More ancient. It was like the will of nature itself fighting against him; a primal force that governed the tides and raged against order.

It wasn't simply the waves or the currents that resisted him—it was something more. Something conscious. Something like a presence.

Like wrath. Like…Oceanus. That was the only name that echoed in his mind. Who else could it be except for the God of Hiraeth? The Titan of the Oceans, the ancient force that had shaped this planet's oceans long before Lukas had drawn breath in this world.

Lukas could feel what he could only assume was divine fury now, radiating through the crashing waves, through every tremor in the deep. It was like the ocean itself was aware of his efforts—and it hated him for it.

Lukas never once believed he could conquer the seas of Hiraeth. He had known that when he'd first gotten a glimpse as the true power of Oceanus, the power that had channeled through Jakob Fronterra as he killed Rodan. But it seemed like Lukas had become strong enough to push back—to defy the rage, to hold the violence at bay.

Not with domination, but with resistance. With will.

And so Lukas fought.

It was a grueling and punishing process, one that stretched him thin across days and nights he could no longer separate. The boundary between his body and his magic began to blur. His breaths were shallow, his skin slick with sweat. His limbs trembled from holding still for so long. And more than once, he came close to losing consciousness; closer than he'd like.

But Lukas Drakos held on. Because he may not be the Titan of the Seas.

But he was a Dragon Lord of Linemall. He was the Lord of the Seas.

It was a constant battle, a violent dance between his influence and the natural chaos of the ocean. Every second was a contest. Every shift of the tide was a threat. Every crash of distant waves a reminder that the sea still sought to reclaim itself.

Time lost its meaning to him somewhere along the way. Lukas no longer knew how many days had passed. His senses dulled and he began to drown out all the noise around him; felt his body go numb.

All that remained was the push and pull, constantly fighting for control over the waters.

Lukas told himself only one thing: One more minute.

All Lukas had to do was last one more minute. And that declaration carried him through endless hours of fighting back against the seas of Hiraeth. But as he was now, Lukas Drakos was still very much a mortal. And mortals had their limits.

Eventually, the tide began to turn against him. The subtle crack in his composure. The waning hum of his Divinity. His magic, once flowing and seemingly limitless, began to sputter. It began to flicker, it began to fade.

His Mana Pool had been emptied.

What followed wasn't physical exhaustion—it was deeper. A hollowing of the spirit. A desolation that gnawed at the soul, a feeling so empty that it was as if a void had been torn through his very being.

For the first time in a month, Lukas allowed the exhaustion to embrace him. He felt his body give way but he did not fall to the ground.

He fell into someone's arms. Rosalia had been waiting and watching; as his body collapsed into hers, she said the only words he needed to hear.

"You did it, Lukas!" She shrieked. "A whole month! You've done it! You've actually done it!"

Lukas blinked slowly, vision hazy; barely comprehending her words.

She smiled. "You can rest now, Lukas."

For the first time in what felt like eternity, Lukas allowed the weight fall from his shoulders.

Lukas let the magic go. He had done his part. He had killed two birds with one stone.

Now, the Duel would take place and Hiraeth would see who would become the next Divine Knight of the Church.