Chapter 112: The council ’s judgement 2
The tendrils of abyssal water coiled tighter, their grip not physical, but something deeper — a pull on the very essence of those caught within. Aegirion’s eyes flared with sudden recognition.
"Thalorin," he hissed. "You dare bind me with his power?"
Poseidon’s voice rolled like distant thunder. "I don’t bind you. I drown you."
The tendrils erupted upward, dragging both combatants down into the trench. The world above vanished in an instant, swallowed by black water. The pressure slammed against them, enough to crush mortal bones to powder, but Poseidon’s form was as steady as the bedrock.
Aegirion’s armor groaned, his body resisting only through divine strength. He ripped one hand free, summoning a pulse of energy that tore at the tendrils. "You think the abyss answers only to you?"
Poseidon’s grip tightened on his trident. "It doesn’t answer to me. It is me."
The darkness around them bloomed with movement — shapes vast and ancient, their eyes burning with cold blue light. The leviathans of the deep circled like wolves, their massive bodies stirring the water into deadly currents.
Thalorin’s voice filled the void. Once they were mine. Now... they are yours.
Aegirion swung Tidebreaker in a wide arc, the weapon humming with a resonance that parted even the abyssal water. One of the leviathans shrieked, a sound so deep it rattled the bones, before fading into the dark.
Poseidon lunged. His trident struck against Aegirion’s spear, sparks of sea-green and gold igniting in the darkness. The force of the clash tore the seabed apart, sending pillars of sand and rock spiraling upward.
"You still think this is a duel," Aegirion growled. "It’s an execution."
"Funny," Poseidon said, twisting his weapon, "that’s exactly what I was thinking."
He pushed forward, each strike faster, heavier, the abyss itself lending weight to his blows. Aegirion met each one, but his footing faltered as the currents turned against him.
Zephyros’ voice echoed faintly from far above, distorted by water. "Aegirion! Fall back!"
The call was ignored. The High Lord of the Council was too deep now, both in pride and in the literal trench. He snarled, releasing a surge of divine light that forced the abyss to recoil. The tendrils loosened, and the dark creatures retreated a few meters.
Poseidon felt it instantly — Aegirion was drawing on something dangerous. The water itself seemed to shiver around him, recoiling from the power gathering at his core.
He’s invoking the Anchor, Thalorin warned. A relic tied to the First Sea. If he lands it, the ocean will lock in place — even you will be trapped.
The weapon changed in Aegirion’s hands, Tidebreaker warping as ancient runes ignited along its length. The water around it stilled, frozen in unnatural calm.
"Last chance, pretender," Aegirion said, his voice carrying the weight of a storm’s eye.
Poseidon’s reply was simple. "You talk too much."
---
He let go of the seabed’s restraints.
The abyss roared to life. The trench walls split open like the jaws of a predator, releasing geysers of black water and shards of obsidian rock. The force slammed into both warriors, but Poseidon stood unmoved, his body aligned with the current as if born to it.
The trident in his hands pulsed — not just with Thalorin’s power, but with something older, deeper. Every heartbeat echoed with the sea’s pulse.
He struck.
The impact between trident and spear shattered the frozen calm around Aegirion’s Anchor, the runes flickering, sputtering under the weight of the abyssal tide. The recoil hurled both of them backward into the trench wall, cracking stone that had not moved in millennia.
Leviathans surged in, drawn by the clash. One, larger than the rest, opened its jaws wide enough to swallow a galleon whole. Poseidon stepped aside as its teeth snapped shut around Aegirion, not to kill, but to pin him.
Aegirion roared, breaking free with a burst of divine force, but his armor now bled golden light from a dozen cracks. His breath came ragged.
"You can’t win," Poseidon said quietly.
Above them, the surface battle raged — flashes of Helion’s fire, the whirlwinds of Zephyros, the screams of drowning soldiers. But down here, there was only the deep and the duel.
Aegirion lunged. Poseidon sidestepped, driving his trident into the trench wall. From the wound in the stone, boiling vents erupted, releasing clouds of scalding water that enveloped his enemy. The gold sheen of Aegirion’s armor dulled, blistered by the heat.
Poseidon’s next strike wasn’t aimed at the man — it was aimed at Tidebreaker. The trident’s prongs caught the spear just below its head, wrenching it from Aegirion’s grip.
For the first time, Aegirion’s confidence faltered.
Poseidon caught the spear in his free hand. For a moment, both divine weapons were his, their power thrumming in discord.
"You came to take," Poseidon said, his voice carrying through the crushing depths. "But the sea doesn’t give. It keeps."
He slammed Tidebreaker into the abyss below. The shockwave raced upward, striking the surface like a god’s heartbeat. Ships were tossed into the air; masts snapped like kindling. Even Zephyros’ winds faltered.
The abyss responded in kind — the trench’s true depth opening, revealing a darkness so absolute that light itself seemed swallowed.
"Go back to your Council," Poseidon said, turning his back on Aegirion. "Tell them the sea is mine."
The currents surged, catching Aegirion and dragging him upward toward the surface, not as a victor, but as a warning.
---
When Poseidon rose, breaking through the water in a tower of foam, the battlefield froze. Council soldiers, drenched and battered, stared at him in silence. Helion’s fire dimmed. Zephyros hovered in place, unreadable.
Aegirion landed hard on the deck of The Aurion, coughing up seawater, his armor cracked, his spear gone.
Poseidon floated there, trident in one hand, Tidebreaker in the other, the sea itself swirling around him in reverence. His gaze swept the fleet.
"Leave my waters," he said.
Helion’s jaw tightened. Zephyros’ eyes narrowed. But no one moved to attack.
The silence broke only when Aegirion raised a hand — not in defiance, but in surrender.
"Fall back," he ordered, his voice hoarse.
One by one, the ships turned, battered and burning, limping back into the open sea. Only when the last mast vanished beyond the horizon did Poseidon lower the weapons.
Nerissa emerged from the shallows, wide-eyed. "You... you beat the High Lord."
Poseidon looked at Tidebreaker, its runes now dark. "No," he said quietly. "I warned him. Next time... I end him."
Thalorin’s voice rumbled in approval. And the Council will never forget it.
But in the pit of his soul, Poseidon knew this was only the beginning.