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

Lukas ascended the worn stone steps in silence, the weight of the old chest tucked under one arm, the lamp the High Septon had given him in the other. The light from the crystal danced with each careful footfall, casting long shadows across the damp walls of the Church's underground. Down here, the air was heavier—thicker with secrets and incense and things no one dared speak of.

It was a good thing that it was late into the night now, late enough that Lukas didn't need to worry about curious eyes or patrolling clergy. The underground levels of the Church were obscure by design, spoken of in hushed tones if at all. And Lukas had no doubt that few even knew they existed.

Still, he moved with considerable caution. When he finally reached the top of the narrow staircase, he leaned forward and slowly cracked the door open.

The hinges groaned quietly against his best efforts and Lukas winced but he did not think it mattered. Then, slipping through, he stepped into the vast silence of the altar room and carefully set the lamp down by his feet.

Lukas turned to close the door behind him—but froze.

Because yet again, Lukas was not alone in this altar room.

Kneeling in the moonlit chamber, head bowed in quiet prayer before the altar, was none other than Celina, the Divine Knight of the Church herself.

Lukas felt the tension coil in his gut like a spring ready to snap. His fingers tightened subtly around the edge of the chest. He still remembered the words Varian had written, especially about the Divine Knight and her relation to Daerion. At the same time Lukas had known Celina for years now. Lukas had already decided he would not jump to conclusions, not until he'd had the chance to review all of Varian's records.

By the time Celina turned to face him, his expression had already smoothed over into something polite—calm, even. Her silver armor glinted beneath the shafts of pale light spilling from the stained glass above. The blue jewel in her chest plate pulsed faintly, like it was breathing with her. And in her hands, resting against her knees, was something Lukas had never seen before.

It was a helmet. Sleek and ornate, as masterfully crafted as the rest of the armor she wore.

It was the same helmet Celina had once told him she wore only in battle.

Something was wrong, Lukas could feel it.

Celina rose to her feet with practiced grace, offering a nod in greeting—calm, poised, and unreadable. Her hand, however, hovered just a little too close to the hilt of her blade; not threatening but not quite at ease either.

Cautious was the right word to describe the both of them.

The Divine Knight didn't ask why he was there. Didn't even question the lamp or the chest in his arms.

Instead, "Lukas. I knew I'd find you here." Celina simply stated, as if it were obvious.

Lukas blinked. His voice was neutral when he responded, but the wariness in his eyes betrayed the unease rising in his chest. "And how did you know that? I thought you would be with Rosalia. Jesse told me that she went to talk with you after the argument you two had."

Celina took a slow step forward, her gaze fixed on him.

"I was with her." she explained. "But we're finished talking now. I actually wanted to speak with you, Klein. And it is of the utmost importance that I do."

Then he heard it.

A thunderous boom tore through the silence like the sky itself had ruptured. Above him, the blue-stained glass flared in a sudden blaze of orange as firelight from outside lit up the sacred windows. The once-quiet altar room trembled under the force of the explosion that had just went off.

It was followed by the screams, distant at first—shouts, panic, confusion—but rising quickly.

Then Lukas heard the unmistakable rhythm of marching feet.

Soldiers. Dozens of them, maybe hundreds, moving with purpose through the streets of Easthaven, their boots hammering against cobblestone.

Lukas spun toward the door, heart pounding in his chest.

"What's happening here!?" he demanded, raising his voice over the growing chaos. He turned towards the entrance, ready to get out of here so he could see what on Hiraeth was going on out there.

But he couldn't.

Because Celina was standing in his way.

The Divine Knight had moved swiftly, blocking his path with frightening precision. Her hand was raised—not in threat, but in some futile attempt to calm him, as if that single gesture could stop the panic clawing its way through his chest.

"Remain calm, Klein." Celina told him, her voice steady and unnaturally calm. "There is no need to fight. No one has to get hurt, so long as they do not resist."

Lukas stared at her, stunned. "What in the gorydamn hell are you talking about, Celina!?"

The chest in his arms felt heavier now, the wood digging into his ribs.

Beyond the door, the city was descending into madness. Screams echoed louder, joined by the groans of timber, the crash of breaking glass, the brutal ring of steel on steel.

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"I am telling you to move out of my way, Celina." Lukas demanded.

But Celina didn't move an inch.

"You, more than anyone," the Divine Knight continued, "must see the mistake Rosalia is making. She is a child. A powerful one, yes—but she is still young and reckless. She is unfit to rule. And so is Magnus. You must see that."

"No," Lukas said, shaking his head. "That's not your decision to make. You don't get to decide what's right for her."

Celina's gaze never wavered. "I did what I had to."

He stared at her, disbelief and fury tangled inside him. "Can't this conversation wait!? The city is under attack, so why are you just standing there? Why aren't you out there, protecting the people?"

Celina didn't answer. She didn't so much as flinch.

Suddenly, something inside Lukas shifted. The anger didn't leave him—but it froze, replaced by a cold dread that settled in his bones. A slow, creeping realization unfurled inside his chest, one he didn't want to name yet.

His voice dropped. "Celina. Where's Rosalia?"

Still, the Divine Knight said nothing. But she didn't need to. The way her eyes flickered—just once—the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth, the silence that followed...it said everything.

Lukas felt the color drain from his face. The ice in his veins spread like a sickness, and his grip tightened around the chest until his fingers ached. He asked again, softer this time yet carrying so much more weight. "Where is she, Celina?"

And her silence told him all he needed to know.

"Just listen to me!" Celina's voice rang out sharply across the altar room, her calm demeanor finally cracking as she felt the surge of magic pouring off Lukas in crashing, invisible waves.

The violent, untamed energy of the sea now churned beneath his skin, rising from the depths of his soul like a tide preparing to break.

"This is for the good of the people!" she shouted, as if that could justify what was happening outside. "This is what Easthaven needs! Magnus is too old. He's not fit to rule anymore. He isn't fit to care for Rosalia. But the Church is. Just imagine what she could do with her powers, Klein."

Her voice shook—not with fear, but fervor. She believed in what she was saying. And that terrified Lukas.

But what terrified him more was the further realization that the Divine Knight had broken her promise. "You swore Celina! You swore that you would not tell the Church! You swore on the River Styx herself!"

Celina took a slow step forward, drawing her blade with practiced grace. The steel gleamed beneath the fractured moonlight streaming through the stained glass. In her other hand, she lifted her helmet—the one she never wore unless it meant war.

"I do not fear Styx. I serve her father, Oceanus. Rosalia is in good hands," the Divine Knight promised him. "The princess will be better off with proper guidance. She'll thank us one day. They all will. I am doing this for the good of Hiraeth. I am doing this for the greater good, Klein."

Lukas couldn't breathe. Because now he understood.

He finally understood what the High Septon had meant when she said he was running out of time, even understood what Varian had tried to warn him about before it was too late.

Celina wasn't a holy warrior of the Church. She wasn't a protector of the people. She wasn't even acting for Easthaven.

She answered to one man. And one man only.

Celina answered Daerion Ittriki, The King of Nozar.

And this—all of this—was his plan. It was a silent coup. The perfect betrayal.

Lukas had just been too blind to see it. He had let the years lull him into complacency, had let peace dress itself in the clothes of power. Lukas had convinced himself that everything was stable, that Easthaven had changed, that those who once sought control had given up on their ambitions.

Lukas had been wrong. And now, the city was burning because of it.

The screams outside had grown louder, closer even. The unmistakable crackle of fire and steel echoed through the church halls like the very bones of Easthaven were breaking.

Lukas looked at her, at the knight who had once knelt in prayer. At the Divine Knight who now donned her helmet.

Celina's eyes were hidden as the visor lowered into place, but her voice came through clear as a bell—cold, firm, absolute. "I don't want to do this."

Neither did he. Lukas could not deny the friendship that had formed between the two after having spent years of collaboration on ensuring Rosalia received the proper training.

But now, Rosalia was in danger. And so was Magnus Elarion.

If Lukas didn't stop this now then Easthaven would fall.

So he let go.

Lukas let go of restraint. Of hesitation. Of every ounce of false hope he had clung to about peace, about stability, about the people he once trusted. The Divinity of the Seas exploded out of him, and the air thickened with pressure so immense it bent the candlelight and shattered the silence. Magic flooded the chamber, powerful and relentless.

A primal roar tore from Lukas's throat, echoing through the high-vaulted ceilings as the tide answered his call.

This was what he was born for.

Lukas didn't know if he could stop what had already begun.

Lukas didn't know how far Daerion's roots had spread through the Church, through the city, through the minds of the people.

But Lukas did know one thing.

He knew that would do everything in his power to protect them. To stand beside Magnus. To fight for Easthaven. Above all, to save Rosalia. Even if it meant tearing down the Church itself. Even if it meant facing Celina. Even if it meant throwing this peace that Lukas had thought would last for years to come.

Lukas surged forward. And Celina met him in kind.

Steel clashed with sea, the Divine Knight clashed with the Dragon Lord, and the stained glass shattered above them as their power collided.

And in that sacred, now desecrated altar room—

The Battle for Easthaven began.