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

It had been a week since their arrival in Ilagron Village.

In that time, the news of Easthaven and the battle that had lit the skies that night had spread like wildfire across the Kingdoms of Humanity. Every port town and trade road carried the tale, each retelling more distorted than the last.

Lukas had been right about the sea's conditions. The waves had eased day by day, and now even fishermen dared to speak of long voyages again.

For most, it was a blessing. For Lukas, it simply gave him more questions that plagued his thoughts.

Could it really be just a coincidence? If Varian truly believed that Oceanus had gone silent, then why did the waters calm precisely when Daerion needed them so? Was Oceanus perhaps pleased with Daerion's actions? Was this the Titan's way of saying that he approved of what had happened in Easthaven?

The answer, if there was one, was buried somewhere in the chest he had taken from Vault 56.

But Varian's records were meticulous—in fact they were a little too meticulous. The entire archive was written in codes Lukas didn't even recognize. Symbols, ciphers, layered encryptions—each page felt like a wall he had no tools to climb. Even after several days of attempting to understand these records, Lukas had nothing to show for it except a growing headache and endless pages of meaningless scribbles on scrap paper.

At the same time, the truth within these documents was not one Lukas could simply share with just anybody. It was a burden meant for him alone. How could he ask another to carry the knowledge contained in the records Varian had kept?

A knock pulled him from the haze of ink and frustration.

The door creaked open, and there stood Rosalia Elarion. But she looked nothing like the princess of Easthaven that Hiraeth had come to know and love.

Her hair, once the unmistakable red of a sunrise, was now a warm brown. Her dress was plain, free of embroidery and gold thread, a far cry from the finery she was raised in. This disguise was necessary; Daerion knew of her powers now, and Lukas had no doubt the man was still hunting down her whereabouts. If Rosalia minded the change, she did not show it. She had settled into life here within Ilagron Village with surprising ease, helping around the estate and spending most of her days with Jesse; distracting herself by helping the young dragonborn where she could as he attended to his duties as the Head of the Merchant Guild.

Now, Rosalia came to Lukas' desk. She glanced over the mess of papers and then tugged at his arm.

"I'm hungry," she stated simply.

Lukas smiled despite himself. It was Rosalia's way of pulling him out of his self-imposed prison. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. While it was wise to keep her out of sight, keeping Rosalia trapped inside the estate for too long would do more harm than good. Few here knew her face. Fewer still would suspect the quiet girl with brown hair to be the Princess of Easthaven. A little fresh air would do both of them some good.

"Just give me a minute and we'll go find somewhere to eat." Lukas told her as he turned to secure all of Varian's records. He did not think there would be any snooping around here in the Ilagron Estate but he was not going to take any chances.

They wandered through the village at an easy pace, letting the afternoon sun guide them through the streets of Ilagron. The air smelled faintly of woodsmoke and fresh bread, and the marketplace ahead buzzed with the voices of vendors calling out their wares.

Rosalia drifted close to Lukas' side, her steps measured, her gaze flitting from stall to stall. The young princess was carrying her grief well—or perhaps it only seemed that way because Rosalia was simply bottling it up within. What he did notice was that Rosalia smiled less these days, and when she did, her smile never reached her eyes. Her voice was quieter too, as though some part of her still lingered in the ruins of what she had lost.

Ilagron Village, on the other hand, was alive in a way Lukas had never seen before.

The streets that had once been barren now teemed with movement. Merchants stood proudly at their stalls, the air rich with the scent of spiced meats and freshly cut fruit. Children raced between shopping carts, laughing as they weaved past customers. Lukas remembered the Ilagron of seven years ago—silent streets, shuttered doors, and the hollow look of people who had nothing left to give.

Now, it was like the village had been reborn into something greater.

"Where should we eat?" Rosalia asked again, nudging his arm.

Lukas smiled, the answer already forming in his mind. "I know a place." He didn't remember the exact directions but his feet seemed to find it easily enough.

Soon, the pair stood before a tavern bursting with life; laughter spilled out from its open windows and the warm glow of its lamps lit the doorway. People came and went in a steady flow, the scent of ale and roasted meat rolling into the street.

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Rosalia raised an eyebrow in Lukas' direction. She had clearly expected Lukas to choose a quiet corner shop, not a place so loud and bustling with activity.

But Lukas only gave her a nod of reassurance and pushed the door open.

A young boy hurried over to greet them, a menu in hand, but before he could speak, a booming voice rolled down from the upper level. "Is that who I think it is?"

Lukas looked up to see the tavern's owner, leaning over the railing with a grin that could warm the coldest winter.

Jerry, short for Jeremiah, had not changed much—still broad-shouldered, still quick with his laughter—but now there was a fullness in his face, the look of a man who had weathered the hard times life threw at him and had come out better for it.

"It has been too long, Lukas!" Jerry bellowed, waving him over.

Lukas grinned and waved back. There was no point in false names here, not in Ilagron Village.

He still remembered this place when it had been half-empty, the tables gathering dust, the air heavy with the scent of stale beer. He remembered Jerry's kindness—how the bartender had refused payment of any kind after having them served them a hot meal and it was here in this very tavern where Jerry had given them their first lead on finding Rodan.

Jerry motioned the young server away with a dismissive wave. "No need for that, boy—this is an old friend of mine right here!" It was good to see the man thriving. The tavern was warm, full of laughter, and—like the rest of Ilagron—stood as proof that the village was finally back on its feet. Much of that, Lukas knew, was thanks to the Merchant Guild's exponential growth in the past few years.

Jerry wasted no time in finding them a private room upstairs, away from the noise of the main hall. The table was already set with warm bread and steaming bowls of stew, and he insisted—loudly—that lunch again was on him.

Lukas tried to argue, slipping a few coins onto the table, but Jerry pushed them right back with a look that brooked no refusal. Rosalia greeted him politely, smiling in that guarded way she had adopted ever since she had arrived here in Ilagron. Lukas introduced her as his daughter, and the jolly man seemed to accept it without question, though Lukas caught the faint curiosity in the man's eyes but Jerry did not dwell on the subject.

Once they had settled in, Jerry's tone grew livelier as he spoke of how business had been booming. The tavern was thriving, the village bustling again—things he'd once thought impossible.

But Lukas hadn't come here to hear about good fortune. He had come for news.

Jerry was no ordinary barkeep. In a place like Ilagron, a tavern owner was the sort who heard whispers from every passing trader, mercenary, and drunken traveller who stepped through his door. And the man gave him exactly what Lukas was looking for.

The story spreading through Hiraeth was nothing like the truth Lukas had lived. According to the bards and rumor-mongers, it had been the dragons of Linemall that had invaded Easthaven without provocation. Nozar, in their righteous generosity, had stepped in to defend the Kingdom of Easthaven.

In the battle, countless lives were lost—most notably Celina, the Divine Knight; and Magnus Elarion, King of Easthaven and Head Mage of the Magic Tower. Some even say that Klein of the Magic Tower, despite the great strength he had showed by keeping the seas at bay, had perished during the battle at Easthaven. The worst of it all was the claim that a vicious Dragon Lord had slaughtered thousands and kidnapped the princess Rosalia Elarion before fleeing the scene.

In the wake of this "tragedy", Maelis Elarion now ruled Easthaven in place of his father, with Nozar pledging their "support" in these difficult times.

Beneath the surface, there were cracks in this story. The people were not so naive, however, to simply believe in the narrative that Daerion was currently spreading across Hiraeth without some suspicion.

Jerry leaned in, lowering his voice with every word he spoke. "Reinforcements from Nozar have been coming in to deal with the Magic Tower, they've closed its doors to the world; refusing to even take in any new recruits. The Tower is openly resisting Maelis' rule, and no one has a gorydamn clue why."

"I've got a bad feeling about all of this, Lukas," Jerry confessed, his jovial expression fading for the first time. "Something's coming. And when it does…I don't think Hiraeth will never be the same."

Jerry let the words hang for a moment before laughing them off, apologizing for being such a downer. Duty called him back downstairs, but he told them to eat their fill and enjoy themselves.

Daerion had once again painted a picture that he wanted the world to see. To the people, he was simply a steadfast protector lending his hand against the "terrible beasts of Linemall" who still plagued humanity after the Great War.

But those who knew the truth wouldn't bend so easily.

The people of Easthaven had heard their King's final message. They would not give up the fight. They would not bend the knee so easily and the Magic Tower's defiance was proof of that.

Lukas glanced at Rosalia.

The dull, hollow grief in her eyes was gone. In its place burned a fire he knew well—a fierce, unyielding heat that seemed to make the air between them sharper. Rosalia was not going to allow Daerion to continue in his wicked ways. She was not going to just abandon her people. She was not going to abandon her home.

Her sadness had hardened into rage, her loss into resolve.

Rosalia would see Easthaven once more. Rosalia would bide her time. She would grow stronger, master this gift she had been given, and when the day came, she would walk back into Easthaven not as its lost princess, but as its rightful Queen.

"I will return. I swear it on the River Styx." She whispered.

Lukas could not help but smile. This was the Rosalia Elarion he knew and loved.

"Then may Styx herself oversee this oath and punish those who break it."