SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

Chapter 972: War Drums!

Early morning swept across the sea with a solemn stillness. The sun had yet to cast its full glow into the deep, and within the layered defenses of the Sea Ancestral Temple, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Kent awoke from a deep, dreamless sleep. His body, though rested, carried the weight of the day ahead. His spirit, however, felt calm—like the eye of a storm that knew it must move again.

The sounds outside were muted yet powerful—troops rustling into position, the low growls of beast-mounts, and the whisper of divine spells being woven across protective wards. The Nine-Heaven Formation stood ready, pulsing in slow, deliberate rhythm. Every heartbeat of the formation echoed in Kent’s chest.

As he stood and stretched, a soft knock tapped against his door. A servant slid it open and bowed deeply. “Princess Nyara has sent you a battle gift.”

Two guards entered with a chest adorned in swirling runes of the Naga script. As it opened, a radiant glow spilled into the room, revealing an armor unlike any Kent had seen.

Forged with interlocking golden scales, it shimmered with sea-light, reflecting both protection and nobility. The scales bore patterns of ocean tides and dragon wings. It wasn’t bulky, but precise—lightweight, flexible, and meant to be worn by one who fought not just with strength, but with purpose.

He lifted it. The armor responded to his touch, adjusting itself to fit him as though it had been forged on his body.

As he donned it, warmth spread across his chest. The runes lit up briefly—each one binding itself to his aura. It wasn’t just armor. It was recognition.

Another knock.

This time, Nyara herself stepped in. Her hair was braided in ceremonial coils, adorned with sea pearls. She carried a small sealed box and a silk pouch.

“I thought you’d be awake by now,” she said gently.

Kent offered a respectful bow. “You didn’t have to come personally, Princess.”

“I did,” she replied, handing him the box. “These are the life-saving talismans crafted by our sea priests. Five in total. One will stop time for a second around you. Another will cloak you from spiritual detection. The others… well, read their scripts carefully.”

He nodded, placing the box carefully into his spirit pouch.

Then, she handed him the pouch. “Inside are rare healing pearls, elemental essence beads, and a map of the Forbidden Abyss’s known terrain from the last exploration. It’s outdated, but it’s all we have.”

Her voice softened. “Kent… don’t die.”

He looked at her, quiet. “I don’t plan to. There are people waiting for me. I made them a promise.”

Nyara stepped closer. “You’ve already done more for our clan than any outsider ever has. No matter what happens in the abyss… you are one of us now.”

He clasped his hand over his heart. “Then I carry that honor into battle.”

Outside the temple gates, war drums began their slow beat.

It was time.

Kent stepped out. His golden armor caught the light of the rising ocean sun, illuminating the path ahead. Around him, tens of thousands of Naga soldiers straightened, saluted, and lowered their weapons in respect.

From the distant-cliffs, the Trident-Flag of the Patriarch fluttered, signaling the march toward destiny.

Kent exhaled.

“Let the sea witness,” he said to himself, “that I came here not to seek legacy… but to honor a promise.”

And with that, he walked toward the gathering storm.

Kent descended the steps of the Sea Ancestral Temple, his golden-scale armor shimmering beneath the filtered rays of sunlight that danced through the ocean layers above.

His throne, damaged during the fight against Lee, was no longer operational.

Waiting at the base of the steps was First Princess Neela, clad in icy robes lined with enchanted frost threads. Her armor, forged of spirit-forged coral and glacial silver, radiated intense yin qi that made the water around her grow colder with every breath she took. Her hair was tightly braided into a warrior’s crown, and her right hand held a ceremonial sea-spear, its shaft pulsating with frozen lightning.

She stood atop a sleek, narrow battle chariot, sculpted from pearl-white bone and layered with wave-forged crystal. Attached to the front were two serpentine beasts—Frostscale Sea Wyverns, their breath exhaling clouds of chilled mist.

Neela gave Kent a short nod. “Get on. Hold tight.”

Without question, Kent leapt aboard. The moment his boots hit the chariot, the wyverns screamed and launched forward, their fins slicing the water like blades. The chariot surged ahead—faster than any spell or beast Kent had ever ridden.

Within moments, they pierced the central dome of the Nine-Heaven Formation.

Around them, the formation came alive.

The Naga legions aligned in flowing serpent patterns, their war drums beating in precise rhythm.

Above, elite beast riders circled like storm crows. Below, armored crab-tanks moved into protective phalanxes. Priests chanted along the cardinal trenches, igniting the Formation Anchors—each one glowing with pale blue flames, each one engraved with ancestral seals.

Near the center, the Sea Priests completed their final invocations. Offerings of sacred pearls, bloodstones, and beast hearts were floated into the vortex well beneath the altar. As the last syllable of the ritual echoed, a divine tremor pulsed through the entire ocean around them. The Nine-Heaven Formation was sealed and activated.

The ground quaked slightly as a platform of coral stone rose in front of the chariot. Standing upon it, regal and towering, was the Naga Patriarch himself.

His beard floated around him like drifting kelp. His trident-shaped staff glowed with runes of wisdom and war. Behind him stood elders and generals, their eyes focused not on the army, but on Kent.

The Patriarch stepped forward, his voice amplified through mana.

“Kent of the Scaled Blood. Today, you step into legend. Know this—you do not carry only a weapon or a mission. You carry our hope. Do not let the sea forget you.”

Kent bowed respectfully. “I shall not fail, Patriarch.”

The old warrior gave a nod and extended his hand. “Stay safe. Return to us.”

Neela snapped the reins. The wyverns screamed once more, and the chariot darted forward—toward the front lines of the marching serpent.

The Naga army began its movement.

Like a living beast, the formation rolled forward across the sea bed. Tides shifted. Sea sand scattered into shimmering veils. The rhythmic surge of footsteps, beast hooves, and rotating chariot wheels created a rolling tremor across the ocean floor. It was a sound of destiny.

Above them, the sea darkened.

And on the distant edge, past the fallen coral ridges and broken pillars of forgotten temples, the enemy army stood waiting.

The Thousand Heavenly Claws Formation had taken shape.

Massive claw banners shimmered with crimson energy. Coral-Spirit archers took formation on reef plateaus. Abyssal Shark warriors clashed their weapons against their armor, creating a chilling clangor.

In the middle of that terrifying sea of troops, a circular entrance glowed faintly—a swirling abyss of violet light and shadowed runes.

The entrance to the Forbidden Abyss.

And it was blocked.

Neela narrowed her eyes as she saw the united army of their enemies.

Kent reached for his bow, his fingers brushing the golden runes etched into its-body.

“I suppose the storm begins now,” he said.

Neela’s spear glinted. “Let it come.”

The sea tensed.

The battle for the Sea God Legacy was no longer a distant dream.

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