Chapter 119: The Answers the God
The Council fleet was breaking formation.
The moment Poseidon’s trident shattered the first chain, the delicate geometry of their crescent collapsed into chaos. Ships swerved erratically to avoid the sudden plumes of scalding water that erupted from the freed vent, their captains screaming contradictory orders over the thunder of guns.
But chaos was his element.
The Abyssbreaker surged forward, the winds shifting unnaturally to fill her half-torn sails. Naia guided narrow channels of cooler current along the hull, creating a path through the deadly boiling zones. Steam shrouded the world in blinding white, broken only by the shadows of looming ships.
"Next vent!" Poseidon’s voice carried like the crack of a whip.
Theron, still slick with the blood of Council sailors, vaulted onto the foredeck. "Three escorts circling starboard. They’re trying to cut us off."
"They won’t," Poseidon said, and his eyes flicked toward the depths.
---
Something moved in the steam-shadowed waters — vast, silent, patient. It rose with terrifying speed.
The sea serpent that had wrecked the first ironclad reappeared, its black-scaled bulk undulating through the heat haze. It didn’t need words from him; his will was command enough. With a single whip of its tail, it smashed one escort broadside, caving in the hull. Men were flung into the boiling water, their screams lost in the roar of the vents.
The second escort tried to turn away — but Theron was already gone, slipping overboard like a blade into flesh. The ship jerked once, twice... then split down the middle as something tore its keel apart from below.
The third escort fired wildly into the steam. Poseidon ignored it.
His gaze was fixed on the next vent — and the colossal chain that tethered it open.
---
The Abyssbreaker knifed forward. The heat here was worse, a constant, clawing burn against skin. Naia’s brow was slick with sweat as she bent the currents, her voice hoarse with effort. Brine planted himself at the port rail, swatting aside incoming shells like bothersome flies.
Poseidon didn’t hesitate. He vaulted from the bow straight into the scalding depths.
The moment he hit the water, it writhed around him like a living thing. The vents’ fury tried to reject him, boiling currents clawing at his flesh, but the ocean was still his. He wove cooler streams around himself, coiling them like serpents, forcing the heat back.
The chain loomed ahead — thicker than the first, its metal glowing faintly red.
Poseidon swung the trident.
Once. The chain groaned.
Twice. Sparks exploded into the water.
A third strike, and the link burst apart, the pieces vanishing into the abyss.
The vent’s roar became a scream, a geyser of steam and ash erupting straight into the path of an approaching ironclad. The ship’s forward guns warped in the heat before the vessel even touched the plume; the crew abandoned their posts, throwing themselves overboard rather than burn alive.
---
By the time Poseidon broke the surface, the Abyssbreaker had already swung toward the third vent.
"Two down!" Kaelen shouted over the chaos. "The Council fleet’s splintering!"
"Not enough," Poseidon said, climbing the side with water streaming from his armor. "We break them entirely."
The ocean under his command surged outward. Shadows answered — whales breaching in the distance, sharks circling closer, and the manta sweeping in low again to capsize another frigate. Every freed vent sent shockwaves through the sea, and with each shockwave, more creatures stirred.
---
The third vent was heavily guarded. Four ironclads formed a defensive ring, their guns trained inward. Between them, scaffolding rose from the water — machinery bolted directly into the seabed to control the chain’s tension.
Poseidon’s lips curved. "They’ve made it easy for me."
The Abyssbreaker charged straight into their ring.
Shells screamed through the air, some finding their mark — the foredeck splintered, the starboard rail shattered — but Brine’s massive claws caught or deflected half the barrage. Naia’s currents surged against the hull, turning potentially deadly hits into glancing blows.
Theron vanished into the water again. Moments later, one of the ironclads shuddered violently, its screws locked by something massive. It tilted, the guns dipping helplessly toward the sea before flipping entirely.
---
Poseidon leapt onto the scaffolding, his boots clanging against the steel.
Two Council engineers drew pistols. He didn’t bother with them — a wave surged from beneath, ripping them into the water. He drove his trident into the central winch, the enchanted steel cutting through gears and struts like butter.
The chain snapped free.
The vent exploded with a force that rattled his bones, a towering column of water and fire that split the defensive ring apart. One ironclad rolled almost entirely onto its side before vanishing beneath the waves.
---
That was three vents freed.
And now the ocean was no longer sluggish. The heat still stung, but the freed currents flowed like blood through veins, answering him eagerly. The creatures that had been lingering at the edges surged inward.
He could feel the fear of the Council captains even from here — the ragged, panicked maneuvers, the desperate calls for retreat that clashed with orders to hold position.
They had built their trap on the assumption that the vents would weaken him. Now, each freed vent only made him stronger.
---
"Fourth vent!"
They didn’t even need to steer. The ocean carried the Abyssbreaker forward, like a beast eager to devour.
The defenders tried to regroup, but Poseidon’s allies tore through them. The serpent breached again, smashing a patrol ship clean in half. Theron dragged a screaming gunner into the deep. Brine waded chest-deep into the surf, using his claws to crush the bow of a retreating escort.
Poseidon hit the water before the Abyssbreaker even reached the vent. His strokes cut through the boiling currents, the trident spinning in his hands. The chain came into view — and then was gone, shattered in a single, brutal thrust.
The eruption tore a gap in the sea itself, a wound of steam and fire. The shockwave rolled through the fleet, capsizing a cutter and forcing another ironclad to sheer away.
---
By the time the fifth vent was freed, the Council’s formation was gone entirely.
Ships scattered like startled fish, some turning south toward safety, others still trying to hold ground — and dying for it. The water was alive now, currents twisting unpredictably, plumes of steam erupting at random. The very trap they had built was eating them alive.
Poseidon stood on the prow, the steam wreathing him like smoke around a god’s altar.
"One vent left," he murmured.
Kaelen glanced at the chaos behind them. "They’ll run before you reach it."
"They’ll try," Poseidon said.
---
The last vent was deep — far deeper than the others. Its chain vanished into blackness before the faint red glow of magma lit it from below. This one had no ring of ships guarding it; the Council’s forces were too broken to spare the defense.
He dove alone.
The descent was like sinking into another world — darkness pressing in, heat clawing from below. The pressure here was immense, enough to crush mortal lungs in seconds. But Poseidon was no mortal.
The chain rose from the bedrock, a black serpent coiling toward the vent. He planted the trident against it, channeled the will of the sea, and struck.
The sound was deep and final.
The chain split.
---
The vent screamed as it burst wide, a fountain of fire and steam roaring upward into the fleet above. Ships in its path simply ceased to exist — timbers splintered, metal warped, and men were flung like ragdolls into the boiling surf.
When Poseidon surfaced, the sea was his entirely.
The fleet was gone — shattered, burning, sinking. The vents raged uncontrolled, and every current bent to his will. The creatures of the deep circled him like loyal hounds, their massive shadows gliding through the clearing steam.
The Council’s trap had failed utterly.
He climbed back aboard the Abyssbreaker, dripping seawater and firelight.
"Set course," he told Kaelen.
"For where?" the captain asked.
Poseidon’s gaze turned toward the horizon — toward the heart of the Council’s domain.
"To finish this."