A long silence followed the women's collective scolding that one could feel Vastarael's divine guilt seeping into every corner of the room. He was sitting in a bed with the Seventh Enlightenment around him.
He looked like he has a fever.
Then, Xander crossed his arms, cocked an eyebrow, and exhaled like an older brother watching his sibling get chewed out for something so obvious.
"Vastarael, my guy. For once, just listen to your wife and your girlfriends."
The others nodded. Farrynelle tilted her head and shot him a half-smirk that was oddly maternal.
"Yeah. You nearly died because you thought it would be smart to bless all of us at once like you're not already running on vapor. Divines can't stay without energy for long and you did just that."
Natalis crossed her legs and looked at him sternly.
"And who says we need to send every Divine to the ocean right now?"
Denisia leaned forward, adjusting her sleeve calmly.
"We can just send the other Divines in waves, one group at a time. Less Divine presence, less trial intensity."
"Intervals," Peroncerea said from the corner, tapping her chin. "Elegant and efficient. That will reduce the environmental response."
Eldrigan agreed with a nod, arms folded behind his back.
"We're already prepared to go ahead and sort things out in advance anyway. You don't need to babysit every duvine-level being. We are literally Divine. We're not weak."
Vastarael blinked.
"I—"
He never got to finish. His vision blurred for a moment and his body buckled, his equilibrium faltering like glass under strain. He slumped forward but instead of crashing to the floor, he landed face-first in something soft, warm, and distinctly scented of forest herbs.
Elyonari's lap.
"Ah, look at that," Narisva said, arms crossed, her voice laced with sarcasm. "The mighty Monarch knocked out by his own kindness."
"You try too hard," Farrynelle murmured with a sigh, resting her chin on her palm.
"You do," Peroncerea added, nodding with theatrical sympathy. "You're always trying to fix everything alone like we're not standing right here."
"Vastarael," Adelasta said sharply, her tone like cut marble, "We're not your subordinates. We're your people. Let us be what you are to us for once.".
Still resting in Elyonari's lap, Vastarael exhaled slowly, chest rising and falling with fatigue. His eyes half-lidded, the pull of sleep brushing the edges of his soul.
He murmured to himself, his lips barely moving.
"My Omniphage is working, but... not fast enough..."
That was the problem. The moment he stepped into Divinity, his energy reserves had multiplied exponentially. Omniphage now struggled under the sheer volume it had to process. It wasn't broken but it was crawling, like a bucket trying to refill an ocean.
Narisva said suddenly, her voice quiet but absolute as she kneeled beside him
"I'll keep you safe. I'll kill anyone who tries anything while you're like this."
"And if," Elyonari added with a sharp whisper, brushing a few strands from his forehead, "you even try getting out of this bed before you're fully recharged…"
Her gaze narrowed dangerously, a mischievous smirk returning to her lips.
"I will personally delay our departure. Do you understand, Vastarael Richinaria?"
He opened his mouth to protest.
"I mean it. Try it. I dare you."
"I can't—"
"You can. Unless you want to get knocked out like what you did to me this morning. Fair warning, I punch a lot harder when I use my Nature Energy."
The room stifled a laugh. Xander blinked slowly, then turned toward Eldrigan with that look that said:
'Dude.. we're watching history right now.'
Eldrigan, lounging against a sapphire-etched pillar with a wine glass, arched a brow under his long dark lashes.
"Did you notice that he didn't even argue?"
"Man's just laying there in a lap surrounded by three god-tier women fighting to keep him from burning himself out again."
Farrynelle cracked her knuckles. "He's a damn monarch. But I swear, he's also a damn softie."
"Lucky bastard," Xander muttered under his breath, folding his arms. "Three beautiful women, all of them ready to kill the world for him."
"We're doing fine ourselves. You've got Farrynelle and I've got Peroncerea. Balance."
"Fair point."
Back on the floor, Vastarael murmured again, voice low as the darkness tugged at him.
"I'm sorry…"
"No more sorrys," Elyonari whispered.
"Sleep," Adelasta added gently.
"I'll watch him," Narisva finished. "I'll be sleeping here tonight. Any objections?"
Elyonari and Adelasta shook their heads. Narisva was the perfect one for this. If anything, she was the one who was worried enough to rely on her to keep him safe. And as Vastarael finally gave in to rest, there was a peace in the room that hadn't existed in five years.
------
The waves lapped gently at the shore of the coastal city. And seated on a barnacle-studded rock not far from the capital's shimmering walls was a woman who did not belong to the land.
She was beautiful. Her hair flowed down her back like strands of wet obsidian, eyes shimmering like carved peridot and her lips held the faintest trace of silver.
She was a Hydroborn, a siren of the oceans.
Her eyes turned slowly, she looked far into the cliffs. Her gaze landed where it was always meant to.
A smile curved her lips.
"So, the son of the Seventh Goddess has returned. After all this time… the Sovereign of the Waters is finally going home."
She tilted her head slightly, listening to the song of the currents in her bones. There were others. She would tell them. The ocean would know once he touched the oceans. But before she could slip back into the waters, the sharp, irritating stench of alcohol wafted across the rocks.
Male voices.
She turned her head slowly.
There were five of them. They were drunk, wild-eyed and emboldened by their proximity to the city and the confidence that men gathered in packs. They had seen her glowing from afar, mistaking beauty for something they thought could be owned.
"Hey there. Look at this catch, boys."
"Ain't never seen a girl that fine near the water. Think she's real?"
"Let's reel her in."
She didn't move.
Her silver and blue tail with scales that shimmered like coral glittered in the moonlit night. They came closer, circling like idiots who thought they were sharks, not prey.
Her tail split.
Bone cracked and twisted inward. Water mist turned to steam around her. Her tail curved inwards, folding and twisting until legs formed, clothed only in strands of seaweed that reshaped themselves into a robe.
She stepped off the rock. They didn't understand what was happening. She was still beautiful even more so now.
One of them reached out...
Nails like coral blades extended from her fingers and with a single swipe, the first man's throat opened like paper. He staggered, clutching at red, gurgling at nothing.
The second reached for a weapon but it was too late. She crushed his windpipe with one hand.
The third tried to run. He slipped in the wet sand and screamed as she descended upon him.
The fourth and fifth barely had time to register the massacre before her hands. The nails slashed across their faces and tore through their necks with terrifying ease.
And just like that, they were dead.
Five broken bodies lay on the beach, their eyes wide with terror, blood soaking into sand that had only ever known salt and water.
She stood there, staring at her hands covered in blood, dripping down her pale skin like paint. Her lips were curled in disgust.
"Men. Always thinking they can take what they don't understand."
She walked into the ocean again. Her feet hit the water's edge and her legs shimmered, fusing once more into her tail. The transformation was fluid, painless and natural.
With one final glance over her shoulder, she dove into the waves without a sound, vanishing into the darkness like she had never been there.