Chapter 17 – Leviathan

Crownless King: The Heir of the Forgotten Throne

Chapter 16 – The Silence Before the Leviathan

The ocean felt wrong.

Kael found himself teetering on the edge of a crumbling cliff, a precarious outcrop that jutted out over the Drowned March, an expanse of water that had once surged with a ferocity capable of engulfing an entire city within its depths. Now, an eerie calm enveloped this hauntingly beautiful aquatic graveyard, as the sea began to retreat—pulling away not due to the rhythm of the tides, which ebbed and flowed with a natural grace, but with a sinister, methodical intent.

The water did not ripple or lap against the shore in playful waves; no, it recoiled as if responding to a primal command, drawing back instead of advancing.

Tarin stood a short distance away, his fingers gliding expertly over the ley-sensors they had set up to measure shifts in the energy that flowed through this land. With a furrowed brow, he stared at the readings with an escalating sense of dread.

"The entire southern sea is collapsing inward," he declared, his voice strained.

Tarin's partner, with a gaze equally steeped in concern, responded, > "No tectonics. No gravitational shift. Something's calling it back."

Kael felt a chill creep up his spine as he narrowed his eyes, his instincts honed from years of adventure whispering a warning.

"No. Not something," he corrected, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "Someone."

And then, without warning, the air split as a wave of sound erupted.

It was unlike any scream Kael had ever heard—neither human nor beast—but a guttural wail emanating from the very sky itself. It resonated as a low, grinding moan, one that shattered clouds above and warped the air around them, skewing all senses and causing a distortion in reality that made the hairs on his arms stand upright. The birds, once defiant against the backdrop of chaos, tumbled from the air like discarded leaves, their flight interrupted by the cosmic disturbance.

Above them, the leyline that flowed through the trench crackled ominously, like glass shattering under immense pressure, unable to maintain its form in the face of the primal call for reshaping.

And then—

The sea split open.

From the depths of the churning water, a creature, more haunting than any nightmare, began to rise.

The Leviathan Rose.

And it was not merely a creature of flesh and scale—it was an intricate design, an amalgamation fashioned from the remains of countless bodies lost to the currents of time long forgotten. Its skeletal frame was constructed of what appeared to be steel, fused seamlessly with flesh that sparkled with threads of ancient spell-wire—woven with purpose and heritage. Atop its head lay a twisted crown of broken mirrors that reflected shards of light into the abyss, each fragment a silent scream of those who had perished. Most awe-striking of all, nestled within its vast thorax, was a ley-core the size of a grand cathedral, pulsing with ancient power.

It did not emit a roar that echoed across the waters. Rather, it breathed—a deep, resonant inhalation that seemed to suck the surrounding air into its core.

And with that breath, a change swept through the atmosphere, twisting the wind until it howled in response.

Tarin, taken aback by the sight, instinctively stepped back. "That thing's older than the Guild," he muttered, half in awe, half in terror.

"Older than the Vault," Seris added, her eyes wide, reflecting both fear and intrigue.

Kael fell silent, his mind racing. He felt the weight of the Crown at his back, a familiar pressure, but one that felt more like a burden in this moment.

The First Flame flickered to life—a warning, a reminder of his connection to this power when suddenly—

The Leviathan turned its gaze toward him.

The creature's voice pierced through the tumult of the storm-swept skies, resonating deep within his bones.

"FIRE-BEARER. SKYBREAKER. BALANCEBREAKER."

"YOU HAVE TIPPED THE WORLD TOO FAR."

"CORRECTION REQUIRED."

Kael could feel the pulse of energy wash over him, saturating the air in a heavy blanket of foreboding.

"I... AM... RESET."

In a single, throbbing moment, the Leviathan's core pulsed once, sending a ripple through the leylines that webbed beneath the surface of the sea. The colors of the leyline dimmed as if snuffed out like a flame in the wind, and in a sweeping motion, vessels that had once confidently navigated these waters began to disappear beneath the waves. Storm clouds gathered ominously, circling like vultures, while from the creature's gargantuan chest, a beam of pure null-energy surged forth, heading directly for the cliff where Kael and his team stood.

Kael remained unmoved in the face of such cataclysmic energy.

Instead, he whispered with an urgency that was tangible—

"Seris."

Seris was quick to act, driven by instinct. She hurled her last remaining vault-seal toward the cliff face, and with a mighty explosion, the solid ground erupted sideways as the trio dove, narrowly escaping the annihilation blast by mere inches.

In an instant, the mountain that anchored their world fell away into nothingness, obliterated in the wake of the Leviathan's raw power.

They found themselves on the move, leaping from ridge to ridge as the ground cracked and shifted beneath their feet. Leyfields splintered under the weight of their urgency. Seris wielded her twin blades, glowing with adaptive runes, cutting a path to safety with fierce determination while Tarin struggled to maintain the prism-shield, drawing upon his own life-force with every heartbeat.

Kael hung back, deliberately distancing himself from the fray, focused instead on the roaring chaos around him.

Observing.

Calculating.

"This creature doesn't kill indiscriminately," he mused to himself, formulating a theory. "It reacts to imbalance."

He paused for a moment, a profound thought creeping into his mind. "So what if I am the imbalance?"

As they dashed toward the shelter of a crumbling archway within the ruins of a ley-temple, long hidden beneath layers of earth and time, Seris succeeded in slamming the heavy stone doors shut behind them with a resounding thud.

Tarin collapsed against a wall, fatigue seeping into his voice, "We're not going to survive this. That thing's not just powerful—it's absolute."

Kael stood rooted in place, breathing evenly through the rising tide of chaos, his senses heightened as he listened intently to the distant roars and rumbles.

Then, he made a decision:

"I'm going to face it."

Seris spun around, seizing him by the arm with a fierce grip. "That's suicide, Kael! You can't be serious!"

But as Kael's eyes blazed with gold and silver flames, he felt the Crown resonate with a familiar power.

"Not if I unbalance myself," he replied its whisper.

He continued, clarity filling his mind as he gathered his thoughts. "I've been drawing power. Channeling the Flame. Using the Crown to strengthen myself. But what if I gave it back? What if I unmade myself in its eyes—if only for long enough to reach its ley-core?"

Tarin's eyes widened in alarm. "You'll die doing that."

Kael simply met his gaze. "Maybe."

Seris's grip tightened, the desperation thick in her voice. "We won't let you!"

Kael shook his head solemnly. "You already did—when you chose to follow me this far."

With resolve etched upon his face, Kael made his way back into the fractured landscape of the sea trench, each step feeling heavier, yet charged with purpose as he walked directly toward the towering presence of the Leviathan, which loomed menacingly amid the hellish tableau.

He began to unfasten the Crown from his brow, sensing the power dimming as he relinquished his royal status. The relic blade he carried was offered to the ground, clattering away from him as he stripped himself of the fire that had once defined him. Bit by inch, layer by layer, his identity faded away, and with each step forward, he seemed to transform—not into a conqueror, but rather into a boy, vulnerable and trembling beneath the weight of such a colossal being.

Until, at last, he stood at the feet of the monstrous entity—a figure naked, exposed, and yet deeply resolute.

The Leviathan paused its grand movements, almost hesitant.

"ERROR."

"PARAMETERS SHIFTED."

"SUBJECT… NO LONGER THREAT."

With the last vestiges of strength, Kael whispered with a heart full of emotion: "Then let me inside."

And to his astonishment, the Leviathan responded to this invocation—its great maw opened wide, a gateway into the heart of primordial power, offering him a chance at resurrection, rebirth, or perhaps simply fate itself.

To be continued...