Chapter 42: | ???
---
In a sunless abyss where no surface light could reach, an ancient city slumbered beneath the crushing weight of the deep.
At its center rose a palace, magnificent and otherworldly, a fusion of Mount Olympus and Victorian grandeur, sculpted from pale coral, obsidian glass, and living, gold-veined stone.
The architecture coiled upward like a blooming sea lily, perched atop a jagged cliff that pierced the ocean floor like a divine spear.
No air stirred here, only currents.
The city was submerged, teeming with bioluminescent flora that pulsed gently against the stillness, casting emerald and sapphire hues across every surface.
Strange aquatic trees, woven with translucent kelp and shimmering runes, spiraled around lamp-lit archways.
Creatures moved through the liquid streets, humanoid crustaceans, sleek sharkkin, and mermaids of both regal and feral lineage.
Some glided in silence, others chattered in fluid song.
All paused, briefly, to glance upward at the palace.
It was the seat of their sovereign, Elara Sae Acoustine, Eighteenth Queen of the Acoustine line.
A goddess among mortals.
A beauty among beauties.
A queen among queens.
Beneath the Lake of Dreadnought, three kingdoms vied for dominance and devotion.
The Kingdom of the Water Elves, who worshipped their monarch and the celestial Kelp Tree.
The Kingdom of Abyssal Beasts, ruled by an eldritch monstrosity that claimed omniscience.
And lastly, the Kingdom of Acoustine, governed by Elara herself, a sovereign whose voice could command tides and whose presence defied mortality.
Inside her throne chamber, high above the seafloor, Queen Elara gazed across the capital through a veil of living crystal.
Her expression remained serene, yet her amber eyes flickered with quiet tension.
With a slow, fluid motion, she raised a delicate hand, fingertips dripping with ethereal light.
At once, her attendants moved, cloaking her in flowing royal silks, layering her silhouette in veils that shimmered like moonlight on still water.
Her voice drifted across the chamber, calm as the deep.
"Peace,"
she murmured.
"has long since broken. The invaders have stained our waters with their presence."
A voice deeper and laced with disdain echoed from behind her.
"It is the fault of those mongrels who call themselves Magus. That wretched one who seeks to unravel the universe's truth. Because of them, our people vanish."
The speaker stepped forward, Neriadna, Elara's royal advisor and High Echo of the Chamber.
Her presence warped the room with spiritual pressure so dense the maid's scales paled.
Elara tilted her head slightly, calm, composed.
"Enough, Neriadna. Speak no further. Such bitterness will only sully the mood."
She waved her hand, and the oppressive force lifted like fog burned away by sunlight.
In its place bloomed a warmth, gentle, commanding, like a mother's lullaby.
The court steadied.
The queen had spoken.
Footsteps echoed as the procession moved toward the grand doors.
Royal guards, clad in plated sapphire armor, struck their tridents to the floor.
A voice boomed through the marble hall:
"HER MAJESTY, THE QUEEN... ELARA SAE ACOUSTINE... ENTERS!"
The doors parted.
Nobles rose.
Maids slipped into the shadows like flowing ink.
Neriadna bowed low, followed swiftly by the others.
Elara glided forward, her steps soft and sure, trailing luminescence in her wake.
She ascended the dais and lowered herself onto the throne, a towering seat of sculpted coral and polished bone, with grace honed by generations.
"You may rise."
She said, voice like a tide, gentle, yet unyielding.
Chairs creaked as the nobles took their seats.
Elara turned her head, eyes half-lidded with authority.
"Neriadna. Speak. What matters await our judgment today?"
Neriadna bowed again.
"Your Majesty, today's council addresses three matters. First, the return of General Claudia. Second, a discussion regarding the newly unearthed mine beneath the Southern Ridges. And lastly, the most vexing issue… the Magus."
A hush fell.
Cold crept through the chamber at the name.
Tension rippled, subtle and sharp.
Elara raised her hand.
"That is enough. Let us begin with the mine. Present your counsel."
A tall noble stood, his robes trimmed in frostwoven silk.
He bowed low.
"Your Majesty, if I may speak."
Elara nodded.
"You may rise, Duke Winter."
He straightened, his voice clipped but smooth.
"The mine was discovered within the bounds of my territory. I formally request that the Winter family be entrusted with its development and oversight."
Another noble lifted a hand, older, broader, his regalia threaded with steel.
Elara gestured again.
"Speak, Duke Reinhard. What objection do you bring?"
Reinhard bowed.
"Your Majesty, with respect. The mine is of strategic importance. If the Magus catch wind of it, it may be targeted. I fear the Winter family lacks sufficient force to defend it."
Duke Winter stroked his chin, unoffended.
"Your Majesty… Duke Reinhard's concerns are not unfounded. The southern barbarians stir again, we expect raids within the next few moons. I admit I cannot spare enough soldiers to guard both frontline and the mine."
Elara's gaze shimmered.
With a graceful lift of her hand, she sealed the matter.
"Then it shall be decreed, the mine will be jointly developed and guarded by the Houses of Winter and Reinhard. Any obstruction shall be met with punishment in accordance with the Kingdom Law."
The two nobles bowed in perfect unison.
"As you will it, Your Majesty."
They stepped back, their movements echoing discipline and deference.
Elara turned her eyes to the chamber doors.
Her tone cooled, preparing for the storm that followed.
"Now… bring forth General Claudia."
---
"FROM HOUSE SERAPHIM, GENERAL CLAUDIA, OF THE LINE OF SERAPH, ENTERS!"
The herald's cry pierced the crystal-chambered hall, clear, thunderous.
The great doors groaned open, echoing like surf crashing on stone.
Then came the footsteps, metallic, deliberate, unyielding.
Murmurs rippled through the gathered nobles like current beneath ice.
A few dared nod in greeting.
Most lowered their eyes.
Claudia returned neither gesture.
Her stride was cold, direct, without pause or hesitation.
Only when she reached the base of the Queen's throne did she stop.
There, she knelt.
Her head bowed, but her gaze, unyielding, locked with Neriadna's.
No words passed between them.
But the message rang clear as steel, Do not fail again.
Elara gave a soft, amused chuckle.
It carried no warmth.
She leaned forward, eyes flicking between Neriadna's stiffened jaw and Claudia's frozen poise.
"You may rise, General Claudia."
Claudia stood in a single, fluid motion, fist crossing her chest in salute.
"Your Majesty. The expedition into the Netherworld has failed again. However, this time… we have returned with vital information."
Elara straightened, interest sharpening.
"Speak. What news justifies your return in person?"
Claudia nodded once.
"Then allow me to recount, Majesty. We advanced deep into the southern reaches of the Netherworld. Mapped regions no living soul had ever recorded. But the cost was... severe."
She paused. Her voice tensed.
"We lost twenty Stage 2 Lord-Class operatives. And one Stage 3 King-Class."
Gasps surged through the court.
Elara's expression darkened.
The hall filled with a restrained cacophony, grief, outrage, disbelief, all murmuring beneath rigid decorum.
"Then speak,"
Elara ordered.
"What have you brought us that warrants such a toll?"
Claudia's lips curled, cold and thin.
"We uncovered a dungeon buried in the southern Netherworld. And more than that… confirmation."
She looked directly at the Queen.
"The invasion of the Old Ones has begun."
A silence fell, vast and suffocating.
At last, Elara gave a single nod.
"Then sit, General. We turn now to matters concerning the Magus."
From among the nobles, a hand lifted. Elara turned.
"Count Tevis. Speak."
Tevis rose, his crimson hair cascading like a silken mantle, his voice firm and unshaken.
"Your Majesty. A trace of the Magus has been located… within the capital itself."
Another hand lifted, older, slower.
"Baron Blair. You may rise."
The elder noble stood and clapped once, drawing the room's attention.
"Ahem. Everyone. The Magus's activities are no longer rumor. I speak from personal experience, one of the orphanages under my patronage was... a façade. A nest. I knew nothing of it… until several children vanished."
Gasps rang louder.
This time, there was no decorum to muffle them.
Baron Blair stepped into the chamber's center, voice rising with grim weight.
"GUARDS. Bring in the Magus."
The doors creaked open again.
Two royal guards emerged, dragging a broken figure between them.
The prisoner was barely conscious, skin pallid, robes torn, runes scorched into trembling flesh.
Even before he stirred, his presence felt wrong.
A hush spread, instinctive and cold.
Blair gestured toward the figure.
"Your Majesty, observe. Feel it. The mana leaking from him, you sense it, don't you? This is not of our world."
Elara's eyes narrowed.
"I do. But tell me, Baron, how can you be sure he is a Magus? There are mages whose mana twists with their craft. Flame-weavers. Spacewalkers. Stranger still."
Baron Blair gave a grave nod.
"A valid concern, Majesty. But see for yourself."
He parted the blood-soaked robe.
Arcane markings blazed across the man's skin, spiraling, unnatural.
Glyphs no court mage would dare inscribe.
"These."
Blair said.
"are not of our spellwork. And he has confessed. He spoke of a gathering. A base."
The chamber swelled with whispers.
A frigid wave of mana flared from Neriadna, murderous and sharp.
Other nobles responded in kind, restrained but wrathful.
Elara raised one hand.
The tension fell quiet, taut as a bowstring.
"Bring me your report, Baron Blair. If what you say proves true, your vigilance shall be rewarded."
She clapped once.
Her voice rang with finality.
"This council is adjourned. You are dismissed."