Chapter 131: Chapter 131: The Roar of the Ocean
Jax stood silent, watching the Siren Queen chained before him. His women formed a tight ring around him, ready for anything, but his mind was split—he couldn’t decide whether to execute her now or use her as leverage.
Then it happened. Quietly, without anyone noticing, the siren slid her hands up to the collar at her throat and snapped it. The metallic crack was barely audible, but what followed shook the world.
A roar rose from the ocean’s depths. Distant at first, then swelling into a thunder that rattled earth and sky.
Jax narrowed his eyes. Instinct screamed danger—real danger, the kind that had made him fear during the fight with Kalamus. For the first time since killing that colossus, he felt true fear.
"This isn’t normal," he murmured.
His blue aura flared in response, but still something weird cut through him. He was level 98 with 99% EXP—essentially a demigod by every measure. As far as he knew, gods couldn’t come down to this world.
Then the sea split. Three figures rose out of the waves: two mermen and one mermaid. Their presence warped the pressure of the air around them.
One of the males saw the Siren Queen and bellowed in fury.
"Daughter...! How dare you hurt my little one?!"
With a single sweep of his arm, he unleashed a titanic attack. Behind him an illusion of a tsunami formed—a wall of energy surging toward Jax like a cataclysm.
Jax reacted instantly, flying up and colliding head-on with the energy wave. The impact shook the air, shredded clouds, and cracked the ground.
The wave dispersed, but Jax felt something strange.
"...What the hell is that?"
That attack’s energy wasn’t ordinary. It was eerily similar to his own blue aura—close enough to confuse him, and yet fundamentally different.
For the first time, he didn’t know what he was standing against.
The merman moved in, ignoring the wreckage and corpses littering the island. His eyes fixed only on the Siren Queen.
"You dared to harm my daughter!" he roared, his voice rocking the waves.
Jax met him, aura clashing with aura, face to face. His eyes burned with fury.
"And you tell me that?" he spat. "You were the ones who broke the pact! You attacked my island and wiped out millions of innocent lives. Even if I killed your daughter right now, I’d be justified!"
The merman watched for a beat, then let out a dark laugh.
"Justified?" he sneered. "The weak are meant to die. Insects’ lives mean nothing. I don’t care how many fall, only that my kind survives."
Those words blew Jax’s temper through the roof, his blue aura flaring like an angry sun.
The merman lifted both hands to the sky. The ocean answered. The sea’s essence flowed toward him, coalescing into a massive sphere that tightened and pulsed with terrifying intensity.
"Feel the ocean’s wrath!" the merman shouted as the orb spun, its pressure like something that could wipe continents clean.
Panic prickled through Jax, but he didn’t back down.
He remembered. Five years of silence. Five years motionless, absorbing the faith of all races who worshipped him, trusting he’d one day wake. All that energy had been building inside him, waiting.
His fists began to change color—blue shifting to brilliant gold, like molten sunlight. Jax roared and struck with everything he had.
The blast was beyond description. The golden energy tore through the oceanic sphere and obliterated everything in its path. The whole island trembled. The guild’s final defenses shattered. Walls and towers collapsed.
Jax’s women screamed in pain; even the chained Siren Queen was jerked by the shockwave.
And just when it looked like everything would be consumed, the female siren finally moved. With a single sweep of her hand she shredded the remaining energy, dispersing it as if it had never been. The power that could have wiped out the sea dissolved into nothing.
The mermaid approached solemnly, water and dried blood clinging to her skin like a deadly shimmer. She stopped in front of Jax and inclined her head, calm enough to chill the air.
"My name is Poseidon, Empress of the Ocean," she said, voice resonant like a deep bell. "If I wished, I’d gouge your eyes out and torment you until your last day. But my daughter lives, and I know she’s made mistakes. I’ll overlook it... this once."
Jax stared. Hearing the word empress tightened something inside him. He stayed silent—his quiet a challenge.
Poseidon raised an eyebrow and smiled coldly. "Give me my daughter, and I will not destroy the little that remains of this place."
That offer sparked Jax. His voice hit like thunder. "You expect me to hand her over? To give up the one who helped destroy my home and slaughter my people because you threaten to turn everything to ruin? You have no clue what they did here—the blood on their hands."
The Empress laughed softly, like a tide exhaling. With a slow motion of her hand, and unseen by most, her daughter materialized at her side as if born from the sea mist. The moment Poseidon touched her, the chains binding the girl exploded in a shower of light and salt.
"Don’t be mistaken," Poseidon said in a low undertow. "I am merciful by nature. But I am fully capable of enforcing my words."
Her laugh rolled like waves in and out. She stepped down to the damp shore with grace; one of the mermen knelt, placing his hands on the sand in absolute reverence. Poseidon seated herself on his back as if on a living throne.
"Power demands sacrifice," she murmured to Jax, curious rather than hateful. "Seeing you close up, I’m convinced you have potential. I could kill you now—end this—without a second thought."
Her smile stayed icy. "But your casualties are too great. The cost of my vengeance would be enormous. I won’t pay that for an act that yields me nothing. So I propose another path: we forget this. We go our separate ways, and no more blood is spilled here."
Murmurs swept the beach. Jax’s women tensed, ready to protect him, waiting for his word. No one trusted the Empress; the offer smelled like a forced truce.
Jax clenched his fists, jaw tight. "Forget it?" he snapped. "How do you expect me to trust you after what you did? You swore never to attack again, you swore to respect the borders... yet in my absence you wrecked everything. What guarantee do I have now, Poseidon?"
Poseidon regarded him with unfathomable calm. "I am not asking you to believe me. Be pragmatic. What do you gain if this island becomes a wasteland and your people die? If I order my forces to withdraw and the sea-kings return to their waters, your territory will be recovered, your wounds will heal in time, and you can rebuild."
"And your guarantee?" Zela spat from behind Jax, voice raw with grief. "A word? A promise you can break whenever it suits you?"
Poseidon tilted her head. "This guarantee differs. I won’t rely on words—I’ll rely on cost and consequence. I will sign a blood pact: my marine kin will lift the siege, and I will personally oversee the withdrawal. If I break it, let the ocean swallow my realm and doom my bloodline forever. That should be enough."
Silence pressed down. It was dangerous: an empress staking her honor with everything on the line. But it was also a real chance to stop the slaughter now.
Jax looked at his women—their hollowed faces, dried tears, coiled rage. Accepting a truce from her would betray the memory of the dead, but staying would only create more corpses.
He inhaled slowly and let the storm settle. "I don’t trust you," he said bluntly. "But I won’t watch this island become a mass grave. If you want a pact, you stake your life and your lineage as guarantee. You’ll pay reparations for every village and life your forces destroyed. Public recognition and restitution. I’m not trusting you—I’m not letting anyone hide behind empty promises."
Poseidon’s lips curved into the faintest smile. "Fair enough. I accept. I’ll supervise the repairs and take the oath. If I fail..." her hand rose, authoritative, "let the ocean judge me."
Jax’s women remained wary, but the tension loosened a hair. The merman that had been her living seat rose, and the surrounding marine warriors stepped back, bewildered but obedient.
Still, in Jax’s eyes there was fire. Not trust—vigilance. "We’ll make the pact public," he said. "You’ll swear before my people. If you break it, there will be no mercy."
Poseidon inclined her head just enough. "So it will be."
The fragile alliance was sealed—for now—like a rope of kelp stretched thin. It might hold, but it could snap at a whisper. Jax didn’t lower his guard; he knew peace born in blood and debt could shatter at any time. For now, though, he had to keep his people alive.
As the Empress and her marine kin began a slow withdrawal, Jax felt the gaze of everyone around him: not trust, but calculation. And beneath it all, a warning to anyone thinking of betraying them again.