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

A ripple of confusion ran through the stands, wave after wave of stunned silence broken only by a few hushed voices asking the same question: Why?

Why would Rosalia yield just when victory was so clearly within her grasp?

Lukas' eyes darted to Celina—just in time to see the Divine Knight rise to her feet, fury flashing across her face. She looked like she was moments from leaping out of the booth, ready to hurl herself through the glass and into the arena.

"What is she doing?" Celina growled, voice low and tight.

Lukas reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding her back. The Divine Knight turned to him sharply, defiance blazing in her eyes—but he shook his head.

"Wait," Lukas insisted. "Just wait. Wait and hear what she has to say."

Celina hesitated, then slowly sat back down, but her gaze never left the field and the tension in her jaw remained.

Rosalia raised a hand, palm outward, asking for silence—not that the crowd had found their voices yet.

Still, murmurs started to rise. Whispers of uncertainty, of disbelief beginning to fill the arena.

"I know," Rosalia called out, voice ringing clear across the arena. "I know you're all confused. Please…lend me your ears to explain everything."

The weight of her words settled like mist over the audience. One by one, heads turned, eyes locked on her. She gestured behind her, toward Soren—bloodied, battered, but still standing.

"Everyone here heard what Soren had to say." Rosalia reminded them. "A Divine Knight's duty is to protect the people. He is willing to bleed for you."

She turned slightly, addressing the crowd more directly now, her voice calm and certain.

"There is no better Candidate than Soren of the Ittriki Clan. Can anyone here deny that he has earned this? That he has stood back up again and again, refusing to back down, no matter the odds? Can you deny this truth?"

No one could. Rosalia nodded solemnly, their silence was an answer in it of itself.

"Under the Church's guidance…and with the Divine Knight Celina as his mentor, Soren will become the holy warrior that Hiraeth deserves. One who will stand guard over all who call this land home. One who wishes to carry this burden. A burden...that I cannot carry."

Rosalia paused and her expression shifted, softening. She turned slowly in a full circle, meeting as many eyes as she could, anchoring herself in the familiarity of the faces around her.

"I am Rosalia Elarion," she said. "You all know me. Many of you have watched me grow—running through these streets as a child. And now, I stand before you not as a child…but as a woman. A woman who understands that this title…of the Divine Knight…is not one for hers to carry."

Her voice faltered, just for a moment, as the crowd's whispers rose in volume.

"Many of you knew my mother."

A silence fell again—deeper, more reverent.

"You loved her."

Rosalia took a breath that trembled ever so slightly.

"And so did I."

A low murmur moved through the stands—whispers passed from lip to ear in soft remembrance. Some spoke her name. Others fell quiet altogether, heads bowed, lost in thought. The name of Rosalia's mother still lingered on the minds of many, forever living in their memories of times long past. Gone for years, but never forgotten.

Rosalia let the silence stretch for a moment, then spoke again—this time, more gently.

"I was seven when I asked Celina, the Divine Knight that has protected Easthaven, that has protected us all for years now, to train me."

The princess looked up toward the booth, locking eyes with Celina for just a heartbeat.

"I asked her to help me walk the same path my mother once walked. To make me into a Holy Warrior. Into a Divine Knight."

Her voice trembled—not with fear, but with something deeper. Something honest.

"I never knew my mother. I never got to meet her. I only knew her through the stories they told of her, through the love I know many of you still have for her. And I clung to these stories because…I wanted to just like her. I wanted to continue carrying her legacy, to make everyone who loved her proud."

Rosalia took a breath.

"So I trained, for years. I trained harder than I thought I could. I gave everything to this dream. And because of all of you—your support and your encouragement—I got close. Closer than I ever imagined I could reach."

Another pause, a longer one this time.

"But…"

Rosalia let the word hang in the air.

"The more I trained, the more I fought, the more I learned—not just about this world we live in, but also about myself—the more I began to realize something."

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She turned again, slowly, looking out at the faces surrounding her. Young and old. Nobles and commoners. All of them watching and listening to her every word.

"This dream of becoming a Divine Knight…it was never really mine. It was a dream I chased because I thought I was supposed to."

Another silence followed—but this one felt different. It was filled with silent confusion but rather…a little more understanding. Perhaps even a little reflection.

Rosalia's voice strengthened.

"Someone wise once told me something I'll never forget: 'If you get on the wrong ship, get off at the nearest island. Because the longer you stay, the more expensive the return trip will be.'"

She smiled faintly.

Lukas could not help but chuckle softly to himself.

"So that is what I am doing now. I'm getting off this ship."

A collective breath seemed to pass through the crowd.

"I'm yielding this title of Divine Knight Candidate to someone worthy. Not because I am weak and not because I have failed. But because I know what I want now—and it is not this."

Rosalia raised her hand—not in apology, but in assurance—just before the crowd could begin protesting.

"To continue down this path out of pride or fear would be a disservice to all of you. It would be a disservice to the Church and to the role of Divine Knight itself. That position should belong to someone who truly wants it. Someone who is ready to bleed for it, to live for it."

Her eyes drifted toward Soren again, and then back to the people.

"I'm telling you all this not to ask for your forgiveness…but because I believe you deserve the truth. You believed in me. You have followed my journey for so long. And now I want you to know that I have found my own path."

The princess took a deep breath—then looked skyward, her voice soft but unwavering.

"And for the first time in my life…I know exactly what I want to do with it. Like I said, I only ever wanted to be like my mother."

The words struck like a hush across the crowd, pulling them closer to her in silence.

"Not in the titles that she bore. But in the way she lived her life. In the way people speak of her even now."

Lukas could see the love Rosalia still bore for her mother, a woman she had never had the chance to meet.

"She was kind. She made people feel safe. She saw those who were overlooked, and she stood by those who did not have anybody to stand by them. She was there for the people who needed her the most. That is the type of person who I have always wanted to be. That's who I still want to become."

Rosalia stepped forward. Her voice grew firmer, more sure of herself with every word.

"I want to do my part in making Hiraeth a better place. Not just for today—but for those who will come after us."

A murmur of agreement ran through the stands, and she nodded once, as if acknowledging the tension she knew they were all carrying.

"I know many of you have been worried," she continued. "Worried about the future. About what happens when my grandfather…" She paused, just briefly. "…when King Magnus is no longer able to rule."

The murmurs grew louder now—recognition, concern and truth laid bare. Even among the common folk, Magnus Elarion's failing health was no secret. Rosalia's hand trembled slightly. Lukas could see it.

Her words slowed as nerves crept into her tone.

"…And that's why I'm speaking to you now."

There was a flicker of hesitation.

Then Rosalia squared her shoulders and looked out at the people she'd grown up with, that she had come to know and love.

"If you will have me…"

Silence fell again. Heavier than before.

"…then I would like to fulfill my duty as the only remaining member of the Elarion Royal Family."

The princess took a breath that was still shaky—but brave.

"I would like to one day succeed my grandfather…and one day rule this Kingdom as your Queen."

The arena stilled. There was not a single whisper now as all who had gathered here today held their breath. It would not be the first time that a woman had ruled before. Queen Aurelia Ilagron had been proof of that. Even then, Aurelia had been the exception, not the norm.

For a moment, it was as if the crowd didn't know how to react.

Then—

There was a single cheer. Followed by another. Then it was as though the dam broke.

The roar that followed shook the very stones beneath their feet. People screamed her name now.

"Ro-sa-lia! Ro-sa-lia! Ro-sa-lia!"

Over and over, their voices surging like a wave crashing down. Rosalia blinked, clearly stunned.

Then she laughed—a genuine, disbelieving, joyous sound—and shouted into the crystal amplifier with everything she had: "I love you all! I promise you that I…am going to do my best! I promise!"

Up in the royal booth, Lukas glanced at Magnus Elarion and saw something he hadn't expected.

The old man was crying, his hands pressed to his lips, eyes full of awe and heartbreak and pride all at once. His granddaughter—his little girl—was ready to carry the weight of a kingdom.

Lukas turned as Celina shifted beside him. Her eyes weren't on Rosalia. Following Celina's gaze, Lukas spotted Daerion, his expression stoic and unreadable as his eyes met Celina's. Something unspoken passed between the Divine Knight and the King of Nozar.

Now, people were already pouring into the arena, jumping down from the stands and clambering across the dirt floor.

Guards moved to stop them but even they realized that there was no need to. Why would they stop the crowd when these weren't invaders—they were citizens, answering a call they didn't even know they'd been waiting for.

Then, there she was.

Rosalia Elarion, lifted onto shoulders, held aloft by dozens of hands, riding a wave of support as they paraded her through the arena. Laughing, crying and chanting her name like it was already written in the stars.

It was magical sight.

Lukas watched it all unfold.

A storm of love, of unity and of…destiny.

As Lukas watched the princess, held high by the very people she hoped to serve, he couldn't help but smile.

Rosalia Elarion continued to surprise him, even after all these years.

The future of Easthaven was looking brighter than ever.

With a queen like her to one day lead them, Lukas knew one thing for certain:

The future was in good hands.