SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

The steps out of the abyss felt heavier than the descent.

Faint blue light returned as Kent emerged into the upper corridors of the Ancestral Sea Temple, his figure cloaked in quiet purpose and divine resonance.

On his shoulder, JoJo rested, his serpent form still but alert — dagger tail tucked, drum silent.

And waiting at the mouth of the abyss — stood Nyara, the Second Princess of the Naga Clan.

She had not left.

Despite four long months, despite court summons, despite all expectations — she waited.

Draped in flowing ocean-silk robes, her deep green scales shimmered beneath the sunlight. A crown of coral vines wrapped her brow, and her sharp amber eyes locked onto Kent the moment he stepped out of shadow.

She didn’t speak immediately.

She simply looked — and saw.

The change.

His aura had deepened. Not grown in volume, but in weight — like a tide now drawn directly from the moon. The bow was not visible, yet every beat of mana whispered of it. A divine signature now clung to Kent like an oath sealed in eternity.

Nyara took a few steps forward, her voice even.

“You returned.”

Kent nodded.

“I said I would.”

Her eyes narrowed subtly, searching his face. He looked weary, but not broken. Grounded, yet charged.

“Was it successful?”

Kent said nothing.

Instead, he lifted his right hand — and let the divine bow shimmer into form above his palm, ethereal and golden, humming with a silent will.

Nyara gasped — not loudly, but with reverence.

The water at her feet rippled. Even the guards posted nearby instinctively knelt, feeling the pressure the weapon exuded even in its dormant state.

“It… it’s awakened,” she whispered. “Auspicious. Truly… heaven-fated.”

She dropped to one knee and bowed low, not as a royal, but as a believer.

Kent gently dismissed the bow back into his soul space.

“There is no need for ceremony. I only came to report… I am ready.”

Nyara stood and frowned slightly. “Ready for?”

“The task you brought me for. The one only I can perform.” Kent’s voice was steady. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

She blinked, confused.

“Wait—what? You just returned. You’ve only just awakened the weapon. I had planned to take you to the Royal Court, to announce your success before the Patriarch and the elders. You will be honored.”

“I don’t need to be honored,” Kent replied. “I need to finish what I promised.”

Nyara’s lips parted slightly, words caught between formality and emotion.

“You don’t understand, Kent. This is not a simple path. Even after the forge trial, the real danger lies ahead. Entering the sealed sanctum is a divine risk. You must prepare—mentally, spiritually. Gather talismans, treasures. Rest. Strengthen your aura further.”

Kent looked at her, expression unreadable.

“The greatest protection,” he said, “is already with me. The weapon. JoJo. My will.”

“You… don’t even want to prepare?”

“There’s nothing else I need. No treasures can shield what’s tested in the soul. Let me go now.”

Nyara’s tail coiled faintly, betraying her agitation.

“Then give me at least three days,” she said. “Three days to make formal arrangements, to obtain the Patriarch’s permission, and to realign the ancient path to the seal. It’s been untouched for centuries. You can’t just walk in without protocol.”

Kent nodded slowly.

“Three days. I can wait that long.”

Relief flickered across Nyara’s face. She gestured gently.

“Come. I’ll take you to your quarters.”

She led the way through the coral corridors of the upper palace, winding past giant stone mosaics that told the story of the sea clans. Servants moved aside, bowing, whispering. The palace hummed with age, with power — and with a growing curiosity about the young human now walking beside the Second Princess with the poise of a noble and the weight of a god in his steps.

They arrived at a private chamber carved into the living coral wall, bathed in gentle aqua light and perfumed by spirit sea-lilies. A pool in the center rippled gently, connected to the living ocean outside.

“Rest here,” Nyara said. “Food will be sent. Speak to no one except the royal aides.”

Kent bowed faintly. “Thank you.”

Nyara lingered for a moment longer.

“Kent… if you succeed in this task, everything may change.”

He met her gaze.

“Then let’s change everything.”

As he entered the chamber, JoJo floated off his shoulder and settled near the edge of the water, dipping his tail gently into it with a curious hum.

But outside the chamber, the silence did not last.

Two servant women, who had seen the brief flash of the bow, darted down the side hallway with hurried whispers.

“Did you see that? The human boy? That was a divine weapon!”

“And the princess herself brought him back!”

“He’s not just any guest… he must be the one tied to the sealed prophecy!”

They rushed past the lower gardens, weaving through the halls of polished shell-stone and coral-thread banners — until they reached a trio of young nobles, lounging near the public court’s moon-pool.

Three young naga warriors, wrapped in fine scaled tunics and golden rings, turned at their approach.

One of them — a tall, sharp-eyed youth with a dark green braid and a blade of sunsteel at his side — tilted his head lazily.

“You’re late. What’s the fuss?”

“It’s him!” one servant panted. “The boy the Princess brought from the abyss. He has returned!”

The three nobles stood upright, eyes alight.

“Already? But it hasn’t even been half a year!”

“They say he carries a divine bow! The forge elders bowed when they felt its pressure!”

The braided youth, clearly their leader, scoffed.

“A human? Carrying the legacy of our temple? That’s what she brought from the abyss?”

But another, the youngest of them, looked troubled.

“Maybe he’s the one from the prophecy… the scaled dragon who can awaken the sea god’s path…”

“Then we need to watch him,” the leader said darkly. “If the royal court accepts him, we may lose everything.”

Their gazes turned toward the tall tower at the palace’s heart — where Second Princess Nyara had gone to seek the Patriarch’s audience.

And within the chamber below, Kent sat cross-legged near the ocean-pool, unaware that his presence had already stirred the palace like a thrown stone in still water.

The countdown to the God Legacy Trial had begun.

And beneath the ocean floor, the old seals groaned — like beasts waiting to be unchained.

–

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