With a roar that somehow carried through the water, Jaenor released everything he had been holding back.

A pillar of crimson energy erupted from his position, shooting up through the harbor water like a spear thrown by the gods themselves.

The column of force broke the surface and continued skyward, visible for miles as it painted the morning sky in shades of scarlet and gold.

The water around him began to spin, caught in the tremendous forces he was generating.

A whirlpool formed with him at its center, creating a hollow space in the depths where the water itself was held back by walls of crystallized energy.

The sirens were caught in the maelstrom, their forms tumbling helplessly through the churning water as they were flung away from him like debris in a tornado. Their inhuman shrieks were lost in the roar of displaced ocean.

Miles beneath the harbor, in a palace of coral and pearl that had stood since the dawn of time, an ancient presence stirred. Eyes older than recorded history opened in the depths, and a voice like the grinding of tectonic plates whispered a single word:

“Interesting.”

But Jaenor was beyond caring about ancient watchers.

The power flowing through him was intoxicating and addictive, and he could feel it beginning to consume him from within. The crimson pillar grew brighter, the whirlpool expanded, and reality itself began to strain under the forces he was unleashing.

The water created a huge whirlpool around him, swirling with him as the center. There was a strange noise erupting from the energy crackling around Jaenor.

The storm reached a high and continued to last for a couple of minutes.

Then, suddenly, it stopped.

A familiar presence wrapped around his consciousness like a warm embrace, and the runaway power was gently but firmly brought back under control.

The pillar of energy dissipated, the whirlpool collapsed, and the harbor water rushed back to fill the void he had created.

Odessa materialized beside him in the water, her own form blazing with power that made his origin abilities look like a candle flame compared to the sun.

She had dropped all pretence of being merely human—wings of pure energy spread from her shoulders, her eyes blazed with inner fire, and the water around her turned to steam at her touch.

“Enough,” she said, her voice carrying absolute authority.

Her arms encircled him, and they rose through the water together, breaking the surface near the shattered remains of the fishing platform.

Jaenor was breathing heavily, looked up at her, surprised at how she found him, and was startled at seeing her energy.

Then he looked around.

The sirens were nowhere to be seen, though Jaenor could sense them retreating to the deeper waters where they belonged.

As Odessa guided him to shore, he just stared at her.

–

Beneath the Waves

In the deeper parts of the sea, located in between the mountains under the sea, the crystalline depths of the siren’s ancestral stronghold, five battered forms were dragged through coral-lined passages by their kin.

The Palace of Neyreia had stood for millennia beneath Basmonte harbor, its spiraling towers carved from living reef and decorated with the bones of ancient leviathans.

The injured sirens were brought before the throne, where Queen Saphyra held court.

She was ancient beyond mortal comprehension, her form a perfect fusion of terrible beauty and cunning. Her scales shifted through every shade of the deep ocean—midnight blue, sea-foam green, the pearl-white of crushing depths—and her eyes held the cold wisdom of creatures that had ruled the waters since before humans learned to sail.

“Speak,” she commanded, her voice creating harmonics that resonated through the water itself. “Tell me of this land-walker who dares to challenge the children of the depths.”

She was aware of the disturbance earlier.

The lead siren, still bearing the marks of Jaenor’s devastating punch, prostrated herself before the throne. “Your Majesty, he is no ordinary human. The power that flows through him… it burns like the forge-fires of the deep earth. When we took him beneath the waves, he should have drowned or been crushed by the pressure. Instead, he created a pillar of energy that reached the surface—a crimson spear that could have split the harbor itself.”

Queen Saphyra’s expression remained unreadable, but the luminous patterns along her fins pulsed with increased intensity. “And the woman who came for him?”

“Odessa. She suppressed his power as easily as snuffing a candle flame. Her abilities…” The siren shuddered. “They reminded me of the old stories, Your Majesty. Of the Burning Courts that ruled before the Great Breaking.”

The Queen was silent for a long moment, her ancient mind processing implications that stretched across centuries of carefully maintained balances.

Finally, she spoke.

“You will say nothing of this to anyone outside our court. Post watchers at every approach to their dwelling. I want to know every breath they take, every word they speak.”

“And if he enters the water again, Your Majesty?”

Queen Saphyra’s smile revealed rows of teeth like polished daggers. “Then we will learn just how deep his power truly runs.”

She sensed Jaenor’s presence and the amount of energy he carried when he unleashed the spear of red light into the sky. Her smile grew more as she thought about this new individual and the opportunity he brings.

–

Above the waves, in the imposing bulk of Basmonte Castle, Earl Grimwald Marshbellow paced behind his ornate desk with the peculiar gait of his amphibian heritage. His humanoid form was an ancient glamour, carefully maintained to allow him to rule over the predominant population of his domain.

Beneath the illusion, he remained what he had always been—a creature of bog and swamp, with the calculating patience of a beast that could wait motionless for hours before striking.

Earl had always been fascinated with mortal women. Their softness, their warmth, the strange way their laughter carried without the echo of the sea—it bewitched him. That fascination had grown into an obsession, so much so that he had poured chest after chest of gold into the hands of traders and alchemists. In return, they brought him rare potions brewed from rare materials, concoctions said to bend flesh and bone until even a sea-born creature might pass as human.

Earl was as round as the coin he loved and twice as slippery. His belly groaned for food while his eyes gleamed for gold, a creature cursed with two hungers that never knew satisfaction.

The messenger who stood before him was a wiry man named Corvin, one of the Earl’s most reliable spies.

His report had been both thorough and deeply troubling.

“The entire harbor district felt it, my lord,” Corvin was saying, wringing his cap nervously in his hands.

“A column of red light that shot up from the water like the gods themselves were throwing spears. The fishing platforms were destroyed, several boats were damaged, and the sirens…” He lowered his voice.

“The sirens all disappeared into the deep waters at once. That’s never happened before.”

Earl Grimwald’s throat sac pulsed with agitation—a tell he had never quite learned to suppress. “And you’re certain it was the boy? This Jaenor who works the fish stalls?”

“No doubt, my lord. Multiple witnesses saw him fighting with the sirens before they all went into the water. When that light appeared, it was centered right on their position.”

The Earl’s bulbous eyes narrowed as he considered the implications.

For six months, he had been watching Odessa with growing suspicion, right after she brought the boy.

She claimed to be a simple scholar studying the local maritime trade routes, but no scholar possessed the kind of protective wards that surrounded her dwelling.

And now the boy she had taken in—ostensibly a survivor of some unspecified accident—had revealed power that could reshape the very harbor itself.

“Send word to the Coven of the Redmoon,” the Earl commanded, his voice taking on the croaking undertones that emerged when he was agitated.

“Tell them that Earl Grimwald Marshbellow formally requests their… consultation services. Tell them it involves an Ashen witch.”

The Ashen are like outcasts of the covens.

Corvin paled visibly.

The Redmoon Coven’s reputation was known throughout the eastern kingdoms, and none of it was good. “My lord, are you certain? They are… expensive. And dangerous.”

“More dangerous than allowing an uncontrolled woman and boy wonder around the city?”

“If they heard of what transpired in the harbor and learned that I didn’t report them, I won’t be having this castle anymore.” It didn’t sound like he was telling it casually. He sounded very serious, as if they will do it.

The Earl’s form flickered for a moment, revealing glimpses of mottled green skin and webbed appendages.

“Send the message. Today.”

As Corvin hurried from the chamber, Earl Grimwald allowed his human glamour to drop completely.

His true form was that of a massive bullfrog, nearly seven feet tall when upright, with intelligence gleaming in his golden eyes. He had ruled Basmonte for over a century by being cautious, calculating, and utterly ruthless when necessary.

The situation with Odessa and her mysterious protégé would require all three qualities.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep