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Chapter 357: Rise, my Dukes of the Deep.”
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Chapter 359: First Campaign
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... ience.
Barnacle-crusted towers tilted out of the surf like broken teeth, their shattered spires crowned not with flags but with kelp. Lanterns that once guided sailors now burned with cold blue flame, a gift from the abyss, and in the watery courtyards below, thousands of eyes glimmered in the dark. They were not fish. They were not men. They were the first legion of the new age.
Poseidon stood upon the fractured seawall, his trident planted firmly in the stones, the hum of the o ...
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