Chapter 1370: Calm After the Storm

To most Cecilians who had ever encountered the sea witches, these deep-sea allies were gentle, harmless, and endlessly fascinating friends. They were friendly and peaceful, brimming with curiosity about land-dwellers, and possessed knowledge of exotic mysteries and advanced technologies unknown to most terrestrial races. Their strange lifestyles and unique lifeforms sometimes led to behaviors that others might call downright eccentric—after all, anything from the ocean tended to have a touch of madness. The “professionals” who had dealt with the sea over the past two years often joked about this.

This was the impression the sea witches left on most land races—or more precisely, the impression they left on their “friends.” In this world, very few ever viewed these deep-sea beings from an adversarial perspective. Perhaps it was because their nature was so overwhelmingly friendly and gentle that hardly anyone could truly become their enemy.

For centuries, only the Children of the Storm had glimpsed the fierce, martial side of these ocean sovereigns—and now, a new group had earned that grim honor: the dark priests living in the wastelands.

Like ten thousand thunderclaps exploding beside him, a crushing force bore down on the ancient fortress’s high platform. It was as if a colossal tentacle of some deep-sea leviathan had slammed down, shattering the once-impenetrable artificial rock into fragments. The self-proclaimed “Lord of Deep Sea War” had not wielded any weapons—her sheer physical form alone nearly obliterated the entire platform. Outside, the rainwater surged upward, defying gravity as it swelled across the plains, forming a towering “mountain” of water. Beneath the roiling waves, countless tentacles writhed, their dizzying patterns flickering and shifting. In Barnor’s mind, a tsunami of roaring madness crashed relentlessly, making coherent thought impossible.

Through long study and assimilation of the Storm Lord’s remnants, the sea witches had mastered dominion over the ocean. The runes etched across their bodies were extensions of this power. For the mightiest among them, these runes were not mere passive markings but active weapons—by rearranging their positions and amplifying specific nodes, they could transform healing runes into devastating “Heart-Shattering Matrices” that crushed an enemy’s mind. Vanessa, the supreme warlord of the deep, was a master of this art.

Her massive sea demon form was one of Antavian’s most formidable weapons.

Struggling to hold his ground amid the rising floodwaters that nearly submerged the platform, Barnor’s body had morphed beyond recognition. It had grown larger, more grotesque and bloated, twisted into a nightmarish amalgam of tangled roots, flesh, and bone. To survive, he unleashed his darkest sorcery to the limit, transforming into a monstrous stitched-together abomination vaguely humanoid in shape, standing amid the torrential downpour. This patchwork giant towered twice as high as the largest “beasts,” yet beside Vanessa’s sea demon form, he was still as insignificant as a salted fish.

Tilting his head back, Barnor glared up at the “Lord of Deep Sea War”—a towering figure with a vast female upper body and a serpentine sea demon lower half—and let out a furious roar that no longer resembled any human voice. He knew there was no going back today. Even if the sea witches withdrew from the battlefield, his uncontrollable form would collapse and disintegrate within the next fortnight. Fear of death had long since turned into raging fury and hatred. Dark red energies coursed through his flesh and blood, coalescing instantly into dozens of thick beams of light that stabbed at the tentacles spreading from the water.

He made no attempt to strike at the “weak points” of her humanoid torso—her head or heart—though they seemed like perfect targets. Such attacks were useless. That alluring, eerie “human form” was merely a mimicry, with no real vulnerabilities. If her head was smashed open, it was filled only with water and would regenerate within seconds. The tentacles, however, though capable of regrowth, bore rune patterns on their surfaces that, if destroyed, could indeed harm this “Lord of War.”

Some tentacles dodged the beams, but several were struck, their powerful necrotic energy causing them to wither and fall away, becoming part of the rising waves. Vanessa seemed unfazed by the damage, only watching Barnor’s transformed form with mild curiosity. “You can shapeshift too? Can you change into anything else?”

The previous attack had drained an astonishing amount of magic. Barnor’s already unstable body trembled under the violent backlash, threatening to shatter. The surging power inside him ran rampant, and merely suppressing it nearly exhausted his strength. Yet the mental torment was even worse. He gazed at the waves that had risen to flood the entire fortress—these were no longer mere rainwater. A briny, salty scent told him the land was slowly turning into sea. Amid the stormy ocean and endless rain, the dark priesthood and the mutated legions that had survived the bombardment were long gone.

Only a handful of dark priests remained, clinging to the few exposed walls or floating debris, shivering in the wind and rain. Sea witch soldiers armed with tridents and particle rifles circled them like sharks. The priests had given up resistance, trapped with nowhere to flee—beneath the waves lurked countless even larger, more terrifying shadows.

Barnor tore his gaze away, overwhelmed by crushing despair. He felt the magic inside him spiraling out of control. His barely stabilized body began to collapse. Raising his malformed “arms,” he gathered the greatest magical power he had ever mustered. Countless tiny sparks drifted from his body, from the corpses of dead dark priests in the water, even from the bodies of his surviving followers nearby. Amid the rising cries and wails of his fallen comrades, a compressed black-red orb of energy formed before his chest. The light around it twisted unnaturally, even reflecting the scene behind the orb.

“Die!!!” Barnor roared. He made no attempt to launch the orb—it already consumed all his strength just to maintain. Instead, he chose to detonate it where he stood.

A blinding flash erupted, accompanied by a storm of chaotic lightning centered on Barnor. Vanessa felt the lethal force and gasped in shock. “…Impressive!!”

Instantly, countless tentacles whipped up from the surrounding waves. Each was tightly coiled with a large force field generator. At the last moment, the warlord encircled the blast zone with her tentacles. The generators powered up to full capacity, forming a shimmering spherical shield in an instant—at its core was all the magic Barnor had unleashed.

A deep rumble shook the nearby waters. Magic leaking through cracks in the shield evaporated the floodwaters covering the shattered platform. Even the rain seemed to pause for a heartbeat. Then, silence.

The explosion at the shield’s center was swift and absolute. After the blast, nothing remained. Vanessa slowly withdrew her tentacles, tossing the overloaded, damaged generators aside, staring blankly at the empty platform. The rising waves soon swallowed everything.

“A man of his word, indeed…”

She scanned the area and saw the scattered dark priests bobbing weakly in the water. Barnor’s magical siphoning had nearly killed them, but they were still alive—barely able to move a single limb.

Nearby, sea witch soldiers swarmed to capture the prisoners.

Vanessa considered for a moment, then slowly retracted the tentacles clinging to the fortress ruins. Her form shrank bit by bit in the rain, which gradually ceased. The turbulent waves on the plains calmed visibly, evaporating or seeping back into the earth. Clusters of “pure water” separated from the waves, transforming into unarmed “engineer sea witches.”

Throughout the battle, these “engineers” had maintained the rain, the floodwaters, and the “oceanization” of the region. Their next task was to dry the plains and restore the land to its original state.

This was how the sea witches fought on dry land. Their battlefield consisted of three main elements: generals, soldiers, and the battlefield itself—lessons learned on this “dry, water-scarce” planet.

Vanessa gathered her power and shifted back into her serpentine sea witch form. She strolled among the ruins she had nearly dismantled, directing her soldiers to clean up and round up prisoners. Just then, Cassandra’s voice came through: “General, are you alright over there? I just sensed a massive energy explosion on your side…”

“I’m fine. The battle’s over with minimal damage. We also captured several prisoners. General Byron might be interested in the secrets locked inside these dark priests’ minds… if they still have ‘minds,’ that is.”

“Understood. I’ll relay the message to General Byron,” Cassandra replied, sounding relieved. “But what exactly was that energy explosion just now…”

“A worthy opponent who keeps their word,” General Vanessa murmured softly, glancing back at the castle’s lofty platform battered in the recent fierce battle. The platform, already fractured and teetering, had lost the buoyant support of the water beneath it and was now collapsing right before her eyes with a crashing tumble. “A good fight… a brave warrior.”

“A worthy opponent who keeps their word? A brave warrior?” Cassandra blinked, struggling to follow General Vanessa’s train of thought. “What are you talking about?”

“That should be the highest-ranking commander here. We fought for a long time, then suddenly he shouted the word ‘death’ at me—loud and clear—and died on the spot,” Vanessa’s gaze drifted toward the distance. The dark clouds overhead had parted, and the slanting rays of the late afternoon sun shimmered off her radiant scales and flowing hair. This warlord from the deep sea was full of admiration for the opponent she had just faced. “Not a hint of hesitation…”

“…General Vanessa?”

“Hmm?”

“I think you might have misunderstood something… but never mind, it’s not important,” Cassandra’s voice sounded a little odd, hesitant as if she wanted to say more, but then she quickly changed the subject. “General Byron’s marines have just cleared the mutated creatures lurking near the landing zone and repaired the magic network hub by the Aldo Riverbank. We’ve now restored direct communications with the Highland Kingdom and the Silver Empire—so the entire north-south front on the continent of Loren is back online.”

“Oh, that’s good news,” Vanessa smiled immediately. As a professional soldier, she fully understood the significance of restored communications. “I’ll have someone compile the battlefield report as soon as possible. Our friend Cecil needs to know the situation here without delay.”

“Yes,” Cassandra replied. “There’s one more thing. We’re not far from the Greta Fortress of the Highland Kingdom. We just learned that King Audris himself is stationed there. General Byron plans to take a team over to meet with our allies. He hopes you can come too—would that be convenient for you?”

Vanessa lifted her head and looked toward Greta Fortress. She had seen the human stronghold from the air before landing and naturally knew its location.

“The king of the Highland Kingdom… no problem. At a time like this, it’s necessary to meet with allies. I’ll return to the Abyssal Ravager as soon as possible to join you.”

Cassandra’s voice came through again. “Okay, when do you think you’ll arrive? I’ll coordinate with General Byron.”

Vanessa thought for a moment, then casually rolled up a still-functional lightwave blade from the ground with her tail. She pressed the blade to her temple and answered offhandedly, “About a minute.”

“…No need to rush that much! Just get back by normal means!”

…

To the south of the battlefield, the towering Greta Fortress still stood firm between the mountains. In front of the fortress, the “storm” that had shaken everyone to their core had finally passed.

Audris and Lorin stood on the fortress’s watchtower, staring at the plain where the water was receding at an astonishing speed, still unable to fully grasp what they had witnessed.

The torrential rain and the surging waves that had swept across the plain were still deeply etched in their minds.

At its closest, the boundary of that “water world” had been only a few dozen meters from the fortress walls. Audris had seen a wall of water rise from the earth, its edges cut as cleanly as if sliced by a blade. Even when the battle ended, the outer walls of Greta Fortress remained dry.

“…Such terrifying power,” Lorin finally whispered after a long silence.

“They say they were once a civilization that sailed the starry seas, but due to some accident, they ended up stranded on this backward planet,” Audris sighed softly. “We should be grateful that the Cecil Empire managed to turn this race into friends.”

Lorin nodded, then glanced back at the clearing behind the watchtower. Several sea nymphs were chattering and laughing there, carefree and lighthearted.

The young prince hesitated before speaking. “These ladies…”

“Treat them well. When General Byron and that sea nymph general arrive, you can hand them over,” Audris said gravely. Then, almost involuntarily, he looked again toward the area once covered by the “storm.” Recalling the scene of several sea nymphs descending from the sky and clinging to the castle towers and flagpoles, the human king’s expression grew strange. “How do they even manage to hang on crooked like that…”

He didn’t finish the thought aloud:

This race’s limits—both high and low—are truly unfathomable…

(End of chapter)