Red lightning tore open the sky, casting blood-stained light over the raging Leviathan Sea.
Thunder roared in its wake, mingling with the sound of battle that had raged through the night.
Now, as dawn broke across the water, a brutal stalemate had formed.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of ships had circled a single battered vessel at the center.
Its hull was scorched black, sails torn, masts broken.
Yet no one dared approach.
From time to time, monstrous sea creatures breached the surface, thrashing through the besieging fleet like knives through silk.
And still, none dared to charge.
"Mad Prince, surrender!"voices bellowed across the waves.
"You're surrounded!
Pirates, navies, mercenaries—we've all allied to end you! You're no longer feared—just hated!"
"You cursed demon! How many cities burned just to refine that creature?! You deserve worse than death!"
"Hand over the Rank 7 soul beast, and we'll make your end quick!"
"Hand it over!"
But not one moved forward.
Even cornered, wounded, and dying — he was still the Mad Prince.
Lucien stood upon the ruined deck, silent, unmoved.
The wind tore at his blood-soaked coat, the taste of salt and iron clinging to the air.
Cracks of black energy etched across his flesh—evidence of the Leviathan's Heart devouring him from within.
He didn't need their blades.
Death was already coming.
The moment he had consumed that forbidden core, his fate had been sealed.
His immortal Rank 6 body had been too weak to fully contain its power.
And yet… he stood there, staring not at his enemies, but the rising sun.
"So… this is the end," Lucien whispered. "Fitting."
Memories surged.
A crown of flame.
Betrayals.
Laughter.
Blood.
The sting of salt on a lover's lips.
Then—all of it faded.
Calm settled over him like the sea before a storm.
He looked at his ship—his final companion in this cursed life.
Crippled, breaking apart.
Just like him.
Then, his hand rose.
A horn.
Bone-white and marked with abyssal runes.
He blew it one last time.
THUUMMMMMM.
The sound was unnatural.
Wrong.
It vibrated through the soul, a dirge that made the bravest men freeze.
The omen of annihilation.
Wherever that horn sounded, death followed.
Lucien began to laugh—low at first, then louder, echoing across the waves.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
Panic rippled through the enemy fleet.
"He's snapped!"
"Why are you laughing?! Have you finally gone mad—"
But then it emerged.
From the shattered soul of the prince, a black feathered shape crawled into the world—an ominous, skeletal crow.
It perched on the railing beside him, eyes shut, but even asleep it exuded a terror older than time.
"C-Carrion Kronos…" someone gasped.
Voices trembled.
The Rank 7 myth.
The soul beast born of rot and reincarnation.
The one that forced enemies to unite.
It was real.
And it was here.
But it wasn't whole.
Not yet.
"Stop him!"
"Don't let him awaken it! Not like this!"
Wizards, priests, sky-riders—all launched forward, desperation in every spell and strike.
The air exploded with magic.
But Lucien had already made his choice.
With a final smirk, he shattered his immortal body.
BOOOOOOM.
A black nova swallowed the deck.
The closest ships disintegrated.
Screams were drowned by the roaring sea.
And then—the crow's eyes opened.
Caw!
Time stilled.
Below it, a crystal orb pulsed with dark light, containing Lucien's soul.
Carrion Kronos took flight, wings splitting the clouds, vanishing into the horizon—carrying the Mad Prince with it.
Silence remained.
"…What happened?" a young sailor whispered.
"Is he dead?"
"What about the beast?"
The only answer came from an elder cloaked in sea-white robes, his gaze locked on the trail of black feathers falling through the sky.
"Carrion Kronos.... the legendary beast capable of taking a soul and finding a suitable body for it across all timelines.
The only condition is that a suitable body must be found—and much weaker.
But it's incomplete... it can't go back to the past or future.
It needs to find one in the present, and the chances of this are too low."
He fell silent, eyes lifting to the sky.
"Oh great Sea God," he whispered. "If this is fate's answer… may you forgive us all...."
***
Ting.
A small bell chimed softly by the window.
Lucien awoke with a sharp gasp—air flooding into lungs that weren't his.
His vision swam for a moment.
Then stillness.
He was alive.
He lay sprawled on a wooden floor, warm light flickering across soot-stained walls.
Tools hung from racks. An anvil loomed nearby, its edge still glowing faintly. The acrid scent of coal and oil clung to everything.
A blacksmith's workshop?
Lucien blinked, dazed—but a slow grin spread across his face.
"Hah… I survived."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, fate had decided to show mercy.
He sat up with effort, inspecting his new body.
Young. Frail. Blistered hands.
Skin raw and welted from burns. Bones sharp beneath thin, ragged clothes.
"Not much to look at," he muttered. "But I'll take it."
Whoever this poor soul had been, they had died so Lucien might return.
A sacrifice unasked but not unappreciated.
Now came the next question.
Where was he?
He staggered to the window and flung it open.
A rush of cold air hit him, and the world outside took his breath away.
A city—unlike any he'd ever seen.
Wrought iron and amber glass stretched toward a sky inked in velvet.
Towering spires wore copper domes like crowns, glowing dimly beneath the moon.
Gas lamps cast warm halos along cobbled avenues, their light dancing on brass pipes, wireframes, and decorative gargoyles leering from rooftops.
Steam hissed from countless chimneys, curling through the air like spirits on the wind.
Below, the night market bloomed—vibrant, chaotic, alive.
Carriages rattled across the slick stones, some drawn by coal-breathing mechanical beasts.
Everywhere: motion, sound, and scent.
Lucien stared in disbelief.
He'd never visited this kind of continent during his sea adventures. In fact, he'd never seen people using motor vehicles to travel to work, among other strange things.
"What... is this place?"
And more importantly—how far had Carrion Kronos carried him?
He also discovered that the abyssal energy here was too thin.
Sighing, he closed the window.
I need to find out what this place is and how to get out... before they find me, of course.
Calming his breathing, Lucien summoned the so-called Voice of Void.
This was something everyone possessed from birth.
Nobody knew what it was, and he didn't care to ask—the question was just like wondering why humans had two eyes instead of three.
Whispers began echoing in Lucien's ears...
###
[Voice of Void]
[Name: Kael (Lucien Vex Morvain)]
[True Rune: The Mad Prince, Bearer of the Leviathan Heart]
[Race: Half-human]
[Bloodline: Morvain {Unawakened}]
[Physique: None]
[Spells:
(Rank 1) : Heat Vision, Shadow Step ]
[Familiar Beast: Carrion Kronos (Rank 7 Soul Beast)]
[Abyssal Rank: Shallow Beast (Rank0)]
[Abyssal Essence: 108/1000]
###
Lucien was so stunned he nearly screamed.
The mythical Leviathan Heart had come with his soul!
"Hahahahah!"