Chapter Fourteen — The BloodWater Martial King
Captain Nemo stepped forward, the deck creaking beneath his boots. He pressed his fist into his palm and gave a respectful martial salute, bowing slightly at the waist. His voice carried the weight of age and discipline.
"Senior," he said, "my name is Nemo, Captain of this ship, its crew, and its cargo. It is an honor to be in your exalted presence. But… an exalted Immortal such as yourself should have no reason or need to lower yourself to mortal standards. This ship is not fitting for one of your status."
The sailors and martial artists stiffened. Nemo's words were wrapped in respect, yet the intent beneath was clear: he was trying to persuade the Immortal to leave.
The young man in forest-green robes only smirked, his amber eyes gleaming with amusement.
"I don't think that's necessarily true," he replied easily. "After all, technically I'm still a mortal as well… though I am pretty old, hehe. Truth is, I haven't been on a ship since I was about twenty. Back then, sea travel was truly dangerous, and sailing the open ocean was a dream for many—including me."
His grin lingered for a moment before fading into something sharper. He looked down at the endless blue expanse below the hull.
"And by the way… you can't sense them, but this stretch of ocean lies directly between two Emperor-ranked sea beast territories. They've both been trailing your ship for a while now."
The words struck like a hammer. A chill swept through the deck. Emperor-ranked beasts—apex rulers of the seas, whose power rivaled armies—were death incarnate to a lone merchant vessel.
The Immortal lifted his hand. He flicked his fingers casually, as though brushing dust from his sleeve. Two beams of Essence shot into the depths, vanishing into the shadows. For a moment, nothing stirred.
Then the ocean erupted.
Vast spears of jagged ice burst skyward, towering higher than the masts. The ship rocked violently, waves crashing against its hull. A terrible wail echoed across the sea, shaking even the marrow of those aboard.
The crew rushed to the rails and stared in horror.
There, skewered upon the ice, writhed the leviathan bodies of a colossal octopus and an immense shark, their monstrous forms thrashing helplessly as crimson blood spilled across the waves. Within moments their struggles ceased, their corpses staining the sea with death.
The ship fell into silence. No man dared to breathe too loudly.
Nemo and Lews exchanged a glance, then both fell to their knees.
"Senior!" Nemo said, his voice trembling despite his years of resolve. "Forgive my earlier words. Our ship, our lives, all we have—it is our honor to host you!"
"Yes!" Lews echoed quickly, bowing low. "Please accept our humble service. You have saved us from certain annihilation."
The Immortal only waved a hand dismissively, his smile warm and careless.
"My thanks," he said lightly. "Then I'll accept your hospitality."
At last, he straightened and placed his hand over his chest.
"My name is Reynard Arryn."
The sound of it spread like wildfire across the deck. Sailors gasped. Martial artists froze. Nemo's breath caught in his throat, and Lews staggered back a step, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Reynard Arryn…?" Nemo whispered. "That… that was the name of a Martial King… from our continent. He vanished, thirty years into his reign as a Martial King… that was fifty years ago!"
Lews's voice trembled, the words barely escaping his lips. "The… the BloodWater Martial King…? Your elemental affinity… is Water. You drowned the whole Corpse Collector Demonic Sect, freeing a nation from their evil."
Reynard threw his head back and laughed, the sound rolling across the deck like a storm breaking.
"Hah! BloodWater Martial King… I haven't heard that name in a long time." His amber eyes gleamed with mirth, as though amused by the weight his title still carried.
The crew stood in silence, their awe palpable. Even as they slowly returned to their duties, their gazes lingered on him.
The BloodWater Martial King, thought long lost to time, had returned.
And the world would not remain the same.
The sun dipped lower, painting the horizon in hues of gold and crimson. The ship sailed on steadily, though the crew worked in tense silence, their eyes often stealing glances at the figure who now stood at the railing, amber eyes fixed on the sea.
Reynard Arryn.
The BloodWater Martial King.
A name thought lost to history.
In the captain's quarters that evening, Nemo and Lews shared a quiet meal with their guest. The atmosphere was heavy, the crackle of lanterns and the creak of wood filling the silence. At last, Lews—unable to restrain himself any longer—leaned forward, his voice trembling with both curiosity and reverence.
"Senior… forgive me, but… what have you been doing all these years? Fifty years have passed since your disappearance. The world thought you dead."
Reynard smiled faintly, the expression carrying a shadow of old weariness.
"Training," he said simply. "Out here, in the endless silence of the sea. Perfecting my Blood Refinement, tempering my martial arts. When one has nothing else, there is only the path. Only the next refinement."
Nemo's brows furrowed. "Out here… alone?"
Reynard's grin twisted into something darker. "I had little choice. After my ascension to Martial King… some bastard struck at me. Poison. Cowardice." His hand tightened into a fist on the table, the faint chill of his essence creeping across the wood before he released it with a sigh. "I should have died then, but I didn't. Instead, I walked the edge of death for years, forcing my blood and marrow to fight the venom. It was the only way to refine myself further."
The words chilled the room. To temper one's body against poison in such a way was madness… and yet, here sat the man who had done it, still alive.
But then his amber gaze softened with a faraway look, and he asked quietly, almost wistfully,
"Tell me… how fares my homeland? Delvane?"
The question struck Nemo and Lews like a blade to the gut. Both men stared at him, their silence heavy.
Reynard frowned. "What is it?"
Nemo swallowed, his voice low and careful. "Senior… you may not know. Delvane is no more. The kingdom… was destroyed."
"Destroyed?" Reynard's eyes narrowed, frost dancing across his skin.
"Yes," Lews said grimly. "It is now a poisoned wasteland. Nothing grows there. The land itself kills all who enter."
For a moment, the room seemed to freeze. The air turned sharp, the lantern flames flickering as if suffocated. Reynard's hand tightened around his cup until it cracked.
"…How?" His voice was quiet, but beneath it lay a fury that could chill the marrow.
"Rumors say," Lews said carefully, "that it was the work of an organization… the Black Lotus. No one truly knows why, but their name has been whispered in connection with Delvane's fall."
The name hung in the air like poison. Nemo shifted uneasily. Even to speak of Black Lotus was dangerous; the organization was a shadow in the dark, a force of whispers and daggers.
Reynard sat back slowly, his grin gone, his eyes glowing faintly with a cold light.
"Black Lotus…" he murmured. "If you know their name, then they're no longer crawling in the dark."
His voice hardened.
"Delvane… my people… all turned to ashes while I chased strength. That debt… must be repaid."
The temperature in the cabin dropped sharply, chill creeping across the table and walls until Nemo and Lews shivered.
For the first time, they glimpsed not the cheeky wanderer… but the BloodWater Martial King, reborn from exile.