[369] : The Sea Realm—Poseidon's Fury

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While Airmid and Mellie were undeniably gifted, their paths to power almost effortless, comparing themselves to Alfia was an exercise in futility.

Due to her unique connection with Mika... Alfia often perceived information that was beyond their reach, a constant stream of insight that, combined with her own staggering talent, had allowed her to ascend to the realm of the Eighth Sense.

Alfia had even achieved a profound understanding of its principles, a level of mastery that Airmid and Mellie couldn't hope to match. They were well aware of this reality... they would never challenge Alfia. It would be nothing but a waste of time.

"In that case, I understand," Airmid said, nodding as her questions were finally answered. She stepped back, her expression content.

"Any other questions?" Mika asked, his gaze sweeping over the group.

The room was silent.

"Excellent. Then let's begin our preparations for the war against the Sea Realm," Mika declared, his voice ringing with an excitement that was almost palpable.

Crossing this threshold was the final step before his own transformation.

Godhood.

It was a sacred word, a state of being he had yearned for, waited for, for what felt like an eternity.

He had been patient, but his patience had worn thin.

Mika would no longer wait for destiny to unfold—he would seize it with his own hands.

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"That bastard!"

In the depths of the Sea Realm, Poseidon, not yet fully awakened in his mortal vessel, roared in fury, his usual refined demeanor shattered.

The source of his rage was the letter Saga had delivered from Mika.

It wasn't a letter—it was a declaration of war.

Saga had been present when Mika wrote it and knew its inflammatory contents. He also knew Poseidon would not take it well.

After handing the message, Saga had made a hasty retreat, not just because he was eager to return to train Seiya, but because he had no desire to face the Sea God's wrath.

His caution had been well-founded.

Upon reading Mika's words, Poseidon's fury had erupted. If Saga had lingered, he would have undoubtedly become the target of that rage.

"Excellent... just excellent!" Poseidon's voice was a low growl, his hands crushing the parchment into a tight ball.

"I was already planning to submerge the surface world. Now, there's no room for hesitation. Does Athena really believe her Sanctuary, weakened by civil war, can stand against me? What a fool. This generation's Athena, and her Pope—they're both utter fools."

Poseidon's anger was fueled by the intelligence Kanon had provided.

According to that intel, Sanctuary was in disarray.

The Gold Saints were down to seven.

The former Pope, Shion, was dead, assassinated.

Aiolia, a candidate for the papacy, had been killed by Saga.

The Libra Gold Saint, Dohko, was old and frail, his power a shadow of its former glory, bound to the Five Ancient Peaks guarding the seal on Hades's army.

The mastermind of the rebellion, Saga himself, had been executed.

And to top it all off, the Pisces and Cancer Gold Saints, Aphrodite and Deathmask, had been killed by mere Bronze Saints.

Poseidon, hearing this, had been ecstatic.

The Gold Saints were his greatest obstacle in conquering the surface world.

Now, with their numbers halved and their two most promising candidates, Saga and Aiolos—the ones he believed most likely to achieve the Eighth Sense—dead, his victory seemed assured.

He didn't know the truth...

In the original timeline, even with only five Gold Saints remaining, Sanctuary had still managed to defeat his army—And this time, he would be facing a far more powerful force, a fact of which he was blissfully unaware.

His rage, however, was accelerating his awakening.

The seas churned, the skies darkened, and a torrential downpour began—all manifestations of his immense divine power.

Within his undersea temple, his Mariners knelt before him, their heads bowed, their bodies trembling under the weight of his divine presence. They were both terrified and overjoyed.

Terrified by his wrath, and overjoyed by his awakening.

One of them, a smug grin on his face, glanced at Kanon, who stood at the forefront. He knew Kanon's secret and was savoring his discomfort. He didn't need to see his face; he knew Kanon was terrified.

And he was right.

Kanon was terrified...

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Years ago, after Athena's birth, Kanon, in his innate wickedness, had tried to corrupt his brother, Saga, urging him to assassinate the infant goddess and seize control of Sanctuary.

But Saga had refused, imprisoning him in a sea cave near Cape Sounion, leaving him to die.

It was there, on the brink of death, that Kanon discovered the amphora containing Poseidon's soul. Driven by his hatred for Sanctuary, he had released the Sea God.

Poseidon, upon his release, had chosen a new mortal vessel, and Kanon, seizing the opportunity, had become his right-hand man, secretly manipulating the Sea God, orchestrating his war against Sanctuary, just as his brother had ruled from the shadows.

But now, his carefully laid plans were unraveling.

Poseidon had awakened.

Kanon, having observed the Sea God's human vessel, Julian Solo, since his birth, knew him well. He knew Julian would not have been so enraged by Mika's letter. He didn't even hate Sanctuary.

The war had been Kanon's idea from the start.

The one before him now, the one whose fury was shaking the very foundations of the Sea Realm, could only be Poseidon himself.

After all, he had just been released from Athena's seal. His hatred for her was still fresh.

Once Poseidon fully regained his memories, Kanon's manipulations would be exposed.

And then... he would be killed.

He didn't want to die. His revenge was not yet complete.

No, it hadn't even begun. His ambition still burned. The thought of his own demise filled him with a cold dread. He knelt there, his heart pounding in his chest, awaiting his judgment. He felt as if time had slowed, each second an eternity.

Finally, Poseidon spoke. "Kanon, I know what you've done. While your ambition is impressive, I find your methods amusing. You have a certain flair for manipulation—"

"And while this war wasn't your idea, you have contributed to its progression. Therefore, I'll offer you a chance. If you can conquer Sanctuary, as you planned, I will pardon your—insolence."

Poseidon was furious.

He wanted to kill Kanon, to punish him for his audacity, for daring to manipulate a God. But he couldn't.

The Sea Realm was weak. After two hundred years of being sealed away, his underwater kingdom, Atlantis, was a shadow of its former self. He had few talented warriors.

Poseidon needed Kanon's strength. He couldn't afford to fight a war against Sanctuary alone, especially with Athena as his opponent. And he couldn't trust Kanon, not entirely.

But he knew Kanon's hatred for Athena was genuine. That was enough.

"Thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty. I will defend the honor of the Sea Realm. I will annihilate our enemies and reclaim the surface world for you," Kanon declared, his voice filled with a feigned loyalty.

He was relieved...

He wouldn't die here, not like this. He would continue to use Poseidon, to manipulate him, to achieve his own goals. His loyalty was a lie.

Kanon had always been the evil twin, the one who had corrupted Saga, who had dreamt of conquering the world. And now, he had a new opportunity. Kanon would wait for Poseidon and Athena to destroy each other, then seize power for himself.

Kanon bowed his head, a smug smile on his face as he envisioned his future triumph. He didn't know the true strength of Sanctuary, the changes Mika had brought, the power of the newly united Gold Saints.

"The new Pope, Mika—The one who killed Saga. I'll have to thank him. He did what I couldn't."

He remembered his brother, the one who had imprisoned him, and a surge of hatred, tinged with a strange sense of satisfaction, washed over him.

"To think he would condemn me for suggesting such a thing, then do it himself... How hypocritical."

He looked towards Sanctuary, his eyes burning with a renewed ambition.

"Just you wait, Saga. I'll show you what true power is."

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