SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

The Royal Court of the Naga Clan was a vast, spiraling chamber carved from the bones of ancient sea titans and encrusted with glowing pearl moss. Above, a massive conch-shaped dome pulsed faint blue light, resonating gently with the tides of the world. Here, time slowed — and words spoken carried the weight of fate.

Seated in a semi-circle were twelve elders, each cloaked in coral-stitched robes, with a trident sigil shining across their chests. Among them was the Great Elder of War, the Mist Elder of Tidecraft, and the Shellbound Oracle, whose eyes were perpetually closed, lips murmuring fate like ripples.

At the center, seated atop a raised throne that looked carved from a sleeping sea dragon’s back, was the Patriarch of the Naga Clan — a towering, scaled figure with azure horns and flowing white hair. His eyes were old. Too old. They’d seen eras collapse and empires drown.

Before them stood Second Princess Nyara, her voice calm but determined.

“I propose that the Human youth, Kent, the one who awakened the divine weapon from the Sea Ancestral Forge, be granted access to the Sealed Path of the Sea God Legacy.”

A stir swept the chamber like a low tide rushing in.

The Patriarch raised a hand, signing her to continue.

“He was brought here under my protection. He holds the scaled dragon form — the mark of the prophesied one. The forge itself accepted him. The weapon spirit obeys him. We cannot delay further.”

The Great Elder of War, his beard braided with coral rings, grunted.

“He is strong, yes. But not yet a Peak Earth Immortal Magus. That is the minimum to even enter the first seal.”

The Shellbound Oracle whispered without opening her eyes.

“The tides are not ready. He will drown in fate if we push him too soon.”

The Mist Elder of Tidecraft nodded. “The path has killed dozens across the centuries. Even pureblood Naga failed. Let the boy rest, train, and return stronger.”

Nyara’s jaw tensed.

“He has no time. He said as much. The power he carries — it’s surging now. His moment is here. If we wait, the opportunity may be lost forever.”

The Patriarch leaned forward, steepHang his fingers. His voice rumbled like a slow-moving trench.

“You speak with passion, Nyara. But passion cannot bend prophecy.”

Just then—before another elder could respond—the great conch doors of the court creaked open.

Every head turned.

A figure stepped through, steady and sharp.

Kent.

Clad in his dark traveHang robes, his golden eyes calm as still lightning, and JoJo quietly perched on his shoulder. He walked with quiet gravity, each step echoing like a drumbeat in the ancient chamber.

The guards tried to stop him, but the Patriarch raised a hand. “Let him speak.”

Kent came to the center of the chamber and looked around slowly — not with arrogance, but with steel resolve.

“I heard my name,” he said simply.

Nyara bHanked, surprised, but stepped aside, letting him face the court.

“I’m not a puppet,” Kent said, voice rising. “Not a treasure to be used and then shelved until it’s shiny enough for your liking. I don’t belong to your court or your rules.”

One of the elders scowled. “You dare speak—”

“I dare,” Kent snapped, “because the one who brought me here didn’t do it for your games. She—” he pointed toward Nyara, “—dragged me out from near death. She didn’t look at my cultivation level. She trusted me.”

Nyara’s eyes widened, her heart thudding.

“I’m not here to please your council,” Kent continued. “I’m here to repay a promise.”

He turned and faced the Patriarch directly.

“You speak of fate and prophecy. Then listen to the words of your own Seers: The Scaled One will rise not in the calm, but in the storm. If you wait for me to polish my cultivation to your liking, you will lose the storm. You will lose the chance.”

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Even the Shellbound Oracle stopped chanting.

Kent’s voice softened, but it held a gravity no one could ignore.

“It’s now or never. You decide: send me to unseal the Sea God legacy now… or forget about it entirely. I will not return to dance when you clap.”

Nyara held her breath.

The elders whispered.

The Patriarch closed his eyes for a long moment. Read ahead and get updates by visiting NovelFire.

Then… he exhaled.

“Enough.”

His voice silenced all.

“There is truth in the tide. Truth in the flame. And truth… in the eyes of a man who walks into death with his head held high.”

He opened his eyes — twin orbs of deep blue.

“So be it.”

He raised his hand and from behind the throne, several chests floated into the chamber — glowing with ancient runes and sealed with powerful bindings.

“You shall receive every protection the Naga Clan can offer. Treasures, talismans, spirit orbs, and ocean blessing pearls. I will even send the Pearl Priestess to unlock the tide markers on the sealed path.”

The elders gasped. That was no small offering. The treasures could fund a small kingdom’s defense.

“Do not mistake my acceptance as trust,” the Patriarch warned. “You defy us. But you do it with cause. I admire that. So prove your worth.”

Kent nodded. “I will.”

Nyara exhaled and followed Kent outside.

The royal conch doors shut behind them with a slow, echoing groan that reverberated through the wide, polished halls of the Sea Serpent Palace.

Kent walked in silence, his mind still simmering from the confrontation in the court. Beside him, Nyara, the Second Princess of the Naga Clan, walked with her hands folded before her, expression unreadable.

The corridor twisted like the shell of a spiral beast, lined with glowing pearl-stone torches. Gentle sea currents drifted in from the open arches, brushing their skin like a lullaby that clashed with the storm inside their hearts.

JoJo, curled loosely around Kent’s shoulder, remained silent—his drum pulsing only once in a while, like he too was absorbing the weight of Kent’s words and what they would soon lead to.

It was Kent who finally broke the silence.

“Princess.”

“Yes?” she asked, not looking at him.

“What exactly is the Sea God Legacy?”

–

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