SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

The echo of Kent’s draconic transformation still lingered in the air, silent but powerful — like a divine ripple left in a sacred pond.

Muni Naga sat down slowly on the stone bench beside his anvil, gazing at the dimming forge as though it held secrets older than memory. His voice, when it came, was softer… heavy with knowing.

“So… the Second Princess brought you here. Said it was meant for the Naga clan?”

Kent nodded. “She said I was the only one who could endure the trial… but never told me what the task was. Only that it had to be done before the Golden Heir Tournament.”

Muni Naga was silent for a long breath.

Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of centuries, he spoke.

“Let me tell you a tale… one buried even among the sea races. The truth behind the Sea God Legacy.”

He gestured, and a small crystal orb drifted out of a side cabinet, hovering before them. Mist swirled within, slowly painting images in soft blue light.

“Long before the Immortal Realms rose, before even the high heavens were stable… the oceans were ruled by a Sea God.”

The mist swirled — a colossal figure with a flowing mane and a trident forged of stars walked upon waves as if they were glass.

“He was worshipped by many — the Coral Spirits, the Abyssal Beasts, the Naga bloodline… but he belonged to no clan. He kept the sea in balance.”

The image shifted — to chaos, to betrayal.

“But when he foresaw the coming celestial war, he sealed his legacy, fearing it would be misused. He left it beneath the deepest ocean temple — where light never reaches and no clan could claim it without trial.”

Kent frowned. “Then why is the Second Princess trying now?”

Muni Naga leaned back.

“Because the seal has begun to stir.”

He closed the orb and waved the images away.

“For centuries, the three great sea clans — Naga Clan, Coral Spirit Clan, and the Abyssal Shark Clan — have tried to awaken it. But the seals are bound by celestial dragon blood and the divine aura of ancient creation. No sea race can withstand it.”

“Only someone with… your bloodline, your inner golden transformation… could even enter that sanctum without being consumed.”

Kent’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“And if I succeed?”

Muni Naga met his gaze. “You won’t be allowed to keep it.”

Kent blinked. “What?”

“Even if you awaken it… the legacy, the weapon, the will — whatever it is — must be given to one of the sea clans. You weren’t born beneath the tide. You don’t carry the Sea God’s blessing.”

The words settled like salt in a wound.

But Kent’s voice remained calm, firm.

“Then why send me?”

“Because none of them can do it alone. The Naga Princess gambled on you. And if you succeed, even if the sea clans fight for the prize — you will be remembered as the one who brought the sea its god’s breath again.”

“A life-and-death task,” Muni Naga said gravely. “If the seal rejects you, you die. If one of the clans betrays you afterward, you die. If the Sea God’s will deems you unworthy… you’ll wish you had died.”

Kent breathed in slowly, his heart calm.

“I already promised her. And I carry the blood to open it. Whatever happens, I’ll do my best.”

Muni Naga watched him for a long moment. His weathered face slowly softened. He stood, walked forward, and placed a firm, calloused hand on Kent’s shoulder.

“You’ve shown me something these eyes haven’t seen in many lifetimes… a human with the will to walk into death, not for glory, but to repay a promise.”

He smiled — not bitter, not grand — just quietly proud.

“You woke this old man’s hands again. I’d forgotten what it meant to create with purpose.”

Kent bowed, his voice sincere.

“And I’ll carry your creation with honor.”

“Then I’ll ask only one thing,” Muni Naga said.

Kent looked up.

“Let the name of my weapon reach the heavens. Let it fly in storms and pierce through lies. Make the world know that Muni Naga forged for a dragon-born warrior.”

“I will,” Kent said softly. “Even if I fall doing it.”

They stood there in silence — two figures from opposite worlds, bound for a moment in respect and destiny.

Then Muni Naga chuckled, clearing his throat.

“Go. The path to the sealed sanctum lies through the Old Drowned Staircase, hidden beneath the central altar of the Sea Temple. You’ll find the way — your soul will pull you toward it.”

Kent turned, the golden gleam of the bound bow sleeping in his soul, the three quivers forming a silent triangle around his body.

“I hope you live a long life, Master. And may your name echo forever through every arrow I fire.”

Muni Naga smiled one last time, stepping back into the cooling forge.

“Go now… and make the sea remember its god.”

—

Kent was already halfway to the corridor when something in him turned.

A quiet pull from within—an ache of unfinished duty.

He stopped.

Then turned back toward the forge’s gentle glow, where Muni Naga stood hunched before the dying embers like an ancient monument of willpower and flame.

“What an ungrateful disciple I am,” Kent said softly.

Muni Naga blinked and looked up, the hammer in his hand pausing mid-air. “Hm?”

Kent stepped forward, firm in voice but humbled in heart.

“You taught me more than how to shape metal. You passed down knowledge, techniques, values… even the meaning of what it is to forge a weapon worthy of the heavens.”

“I can’t leave without repaying your kindness. Please, Elder — tell me… how can I show my gratitude? As your disciple, it’s my duty.”

Muni Naga chuckled — but it was hollow, wistful. His eyes wandered toward the dark corner of the forge as if haunted by something long buried.

“What can this old man ask of a dragon-blooded youth?” he muttered. “You’re about to walk toward the Sea God’s tomb. You already carry a burden heavy enough to shatter bones.”

But Kent stood unwavering.

“Please, give me the honor to carry one more. If there’s something I can do, ask it now. I insist.”

–

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