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

As the month passed them by, Lukas realized he could no longer recall the last time he had felt so wholly fulfilled. The days had blurred into one another in the best of ways, a soft succession of moments that Lukas never wished to end. Happiness was a word too shallow to describe it—what Styx gave him was peace, a stillness that ran deeper than joy.

When Lukas looked at her, he did not see the wounds of his past nor the weariness that had followed him from the land of the living. When Lukas looked at her, he saw only the memories they had built together, and all the ones that they had not yet made.

They cooked meals side by side, often returning to the dishes Lukas had taught Styx long ago, ones that still carried the flavor of their earliest years together. The kitchen often echoed with her laughter when she flicked suds from the basin at him, soaking his shirt while he feigned exasperation.

Even their arguments—those inevitable clashes of will—never lasted long. No matter how sharp the words or how heavy the silence, they always found their way back to each other.

Because that was what love was: not perfection, but persistence.

Love was the choice to set aside anger, the faith that nothing mattered more than the bond they shared. Lukas understood it now more than he ever had before—rain would fall, thunder would shake the earth, but through it all, Styx was the one he would hold onto. She was his person, his anchor, and that was all that mattered.

Every night, when the castle grew quiet, they sat before the crackling fire. Lukas spoke to her then with words meant for her ears alone, low confessions of heart and soul. She listened, fingers tracing the new scars he had carried back with him from the land of the living, each line of flesh a story she silently honored. And when the fire died low and their words gave way to silence, Lukas always drifted to sleep with her warmth pressed against him.

Morning after morning, Lukas awoke to find her still nestled in his arms, and each time he offered a silent prayer of thanks. Because it was real, because Styx was really there right by his side.

That day Lukas stirred in the early hours, reaching instinctively for her only to find empty sheets.

He thought nothing of it—Styx often woke before him, an early riser. Rising from bed, he dressed and then began to comb the castle grounds for her familiar presence. The kitchen was his first stop. Sometimes Styx enjoyed surprising him with breakfast—strange little experiments of her own, devising dishes that rarely turned out the way she intended but always made him smile. But today the hearth was cold, the pans spotless and untouched. No trace of her lingered there.

So Lukas tried the training yard next, though he could not think of a reason she would choose such a place at dawn. He pressed on, through the greenhouse where light usually danced across the leaves she so admired, through the library where she sometimes lost herself in ancient scrolls.

But everywhere Lukas turned, only silence greeted him.

Finally, he looked for her in the one place he least expected it.

Lukas descended the winding stair, its stone worn smooth from thousands of years. The air grew colder as he moved deeper into the castle's foundations, toward the cavernous antechamber that had once served as a hall of audience in forgotten times.

Where once there had been nothing but shadows and abandoned stone, today the entire hall had been transformed. The sight struck Lukas all at once, and he found himself pulled backward through memory, to the night the Trials had come to its inevitable end. It was as if time itself had folded in on itself, bringing that moment back to life before his very eyes.

A banquet table stretched across the length of the chamber, spanning wall to wall. Though it could have hosted a hundred guests, the space felt strangely intimate, as though it had been made for him alone.

Candles glowed from their golden holders, their flames soft and steady, while strings of hanging lights floated above, weaving among illusionary stars that drifted lazily in the air.

Their glow shimmered in Lukas' eyes, as he took it all in.

The table was clothed in fine linens embroidered with threads of gold that gleamed faintly in the candlelight. Plates upon plates were piled high with food. That night it had been Styx's favorite dishes that lay upon this very table, but now it was his. Lukas' breath caught when he saw the first meal they had ever shared: a perfectly cooked steak accompanied by golden, crisp fries. And beyond that, there were dishes that he had never once expected to see: Delicacies from the Seas of Linemall, the hearth-born stews of Ilagron Village and even the sweet pastries of Easthaven that he'd eaten with Rosalia in the dead of night as they snuck around the palace. Lukas had only written of these dishes, in his countless letters during their years apart, never imagining Styx would remember something he had simply mentioned in passing. Yet here they were, a feast of memories and longing transformed into something tangible.

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And at the heart of it all stood Styx herself.

The Goddess of Unbreakble Oaths wore a gown of deepest black, fabric so smooth it seemed poured from liquid moonlight. The dress hugged her form before cascading into endless folds that skimmed just above the floor, the hem etched with constellations that shimmered like living stars. Her hair tumbled down her back in curly waves, dark with the faintest hint of violet, and upon her brow rested a circlet of woven silver leaves that glimmered as though they had always been there, waiting for this night.

Lukas' chest tightened.

Styx was as breathtaking as she had been all those years ago when she had first worn that gown.

To him, somehow, she was more beautiful now than she had ever been.

Lukas took a step forward, but before he could speak, a quiet ripple of magic swept outward from Styx.

In an instant, Lukas felt the change wash over him. He glanced down and no longer saw his worn tunic. Instead, he stood clad in a tailored suit of obsidian black, the mark of House Drakos etched proudly across the breast. The fabric fit him with flawless precision, every line sharp, every fold deliberate. His shoulders were squared, his jaw clean-shaven, his dark hair combed back with just enough rebellion to leave it tousled in the way she had always loved.

Everything was exactly how it was the night the Trials of Kairos Castle had ended.

Only this time, it was Styx who spoke first. Her voice carried across the hall, soft yet commanding, a melody wrapped in the strength of eternity. "May I have this dance?" she asked, her hand extended toward him.

Existence itself seemed to hold its breath.

For Lukas, the hall, the banquet, the illusionary stars—all of it fell away.

There was only her, and the unshakable truth that no matter how many years or lifetimes passed, he would always take her hand.

Lukas did not give her an answer—not in words, not yet.

Instead, he stepped closer, closing the space between them until he could see himself reflected in the luminous violet of her eyes. He reminded himself then, with every beat of his heart, that he might just be the luckiest soul in all of existence.

Because Lukas had found her.

Lukas had found the only one he wished to spend the rest of his days with, the one who had been his beginning and who he prayed would be his end.

Styx seemed almost shy beneath his gaze, though they had spent centuries intertwined through one another's lives. A thousand years and more Lukas had known Styx, and still she could make his heart flutter like a boy's. A thousand years, and still he was falling in love with her as though it were the very first time.

And so, instead of taking her hand and accepting the dance she offered, Lukas sank to one knee.

Styx's eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat as the hall seemed to still.

The candles flickered, the illusionary stars hung motionless in the air, even the faint hum of magic that lingered in the chamber grew quiet.

All of creation, it seemed, leaned in to hear the words he now spoke.

"There is nobody I would rather spend the rest of my days with, my love," Lukas whispered, his voice steady though emotion weighed heavy on it. "It does not matter who I may meet in the years to come, it does not matter how long we may be apart—because I know, always, I will return to you. You are the one I give my all to. My heart and my soul, I give it all to you because you are my Anchor."

His words trembled in the silence, but his conviction never wavered.

Lukas saw the tears gather in Styx's eyes as she pressed a hand to her lips, as though afraid she might shatter the moment with a sound. Her other hand reached for his, delicate but certain, her fingers curling around his as though it was the only thing keeping her tethered.

"I want you, Styx," Lukas continued, his voice soft yet resolute. "And only you. When I look at you, I see myself growing old in this castle, at your side. I see us cooking meals and laughing over dishes. I see us by the fireplace, night after night, until the stars themselves grow weary. I see children with your smile and your fire in their eyes. I see nothing but you, Styx. I only see you. So I ask you this…"

Lukas drew forth the ring then, a creation that pulsed with power so deep it defied spell or logic. Just like he had done for Varian, Lukas had summoned magic through a love so strong that it threatened to overwhelm him. Wrought of the Divinity of the Seas itself, the wedding band shimmered like sunlight breaking across endless waves, colors shifting as though it contained the breath of eternity itself.

"Will you marry me?"

Marriage was a startlingly human concept—fragile, fleeting, meant for lives that bent beneath the truth of mortality. Immortals did not bind themselves in such a way. Gods did not die; eternity was their only certainty. Yet Lukas held out that ring as if it were the most sacred offering he had ever given.

And Styx did not hesitate.

Her tears spilled freely now, her composure unraveling as she collapsed into his arms. She clutched him tightly, as though afraid he might vanish, as though the eternity they had shared was still not enough.

The chamber came alive in that moment.

The stars above flared, the candles blazed brighter, and the air itself seemed to sing with their union.

Lukas held her close, heart thundering, knowing that what he had once only dreamed of had finally, impossibly, become real.

"Yes," Styx whispered, her voice breaking into a laugh, into a sob, into something luminous. She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, violet fire shining through the tears. "Let us be wed, Lukas Drakos. I am yours, now and forever."