Warlock of Oceans: My Poseidon System

Jesua smirked. "Oh, we're very real, darling. And if you think Decay's return is bad news, you've got no idea what's coming next." Cyrus's expression darkened further, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Warlock of Wisdom... revenge incarnate." Jesua's sharp gaze snapped to him, her grin growing wider. "Oh, someone's been paying attention. Tell me, scholar, what do they say about Wisdom in your world?" Cyrus's words were heavy with memory. "Entire civilizations fell to their wrath." Jesua's laughter filled the room, sharp and unrelenting. "Good. At least someone did their homework." The room grew silent as the trio exhausted their barrage of questions. Sylus stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he stared at Jesua, as if trying to decipher every shift in her expression. Cyrus leaned his aetheric blade against his shoulder, his posture tense, while Athena hovered uncertainly near the bed, her eyes flicking between the two men and Jesua. Jesua, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed. Her piercing blue eyes locked onto Athena with an unnervingly focused intensity, her faint smirk growing into something eerily knowing. Athena shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, clearing her throat as her hands fidgeted at her sides. Finally, Jesua broke the silence. "You're all very good at asking questions," she said, her voice light and mocking. "But I think it's my turn now." Before anyone could respond, she added with a casual shrug, "I need a vessel." The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. Sylus's hand flew to the hilt of his sword, and Cyrus summoned his blade in an instant, the glowing weapon humming to life. Athena instinctively stepped back, a spell flickering to her fingertips. The three stood poised to strike, tension crackling between them and the smirking woman before them. Jesua's smile didn't waver as she raised her hands in mock surrender. "Oh, relax. It's already done." She shifted her gaze to Athena, her smile sharpening. "Unfortunately for you, sweetheart, you're already my vessel." Athena froze, her breath catching as her hands began to tremble. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, her voice shaking. Jesua tilted her head, her expression turning almost pitying. "Didn't you notice? The little moment with the mirror? That wasn't a coincidence. I'm here because of you." Sylus narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening on his blade. "If that's true, then releasing you would harm Athena." Jesua clapped her hands together, her grin widening. "Exactly! Someone give the man a prize." Cyrus gritted his teeth, his blade faltering for just a moment before he dismissed it entirely, his hands balling into fists. "So, what's your game?" he snapped. "Why attach yourself to her? What do you want?" Jesua's demeanor shifted slightly, her smile softening into something almost genuine. "Relax, boys. I'm not here to cause chaos—not yet, anyway." She straightened, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "I'm more interested in knowing who summoned me into this miserable world." Sylus raised an eyebrow, his posture still guarded. "You don't know?" Jesua's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something dark passing over her face. "Not yet. But someone with enough power and desperation did this. And if Decay is back too..." She trailed off, her grin returning with a sharp edge. "Well, let's just say the stakes are higher than you realize." Sylus exchanged a glance with Cyrus before speaking. "There's a cult. They're trying to bring the three of you back—the so-called 'Pillars.'" Jesua let out a sharp laugh, the sound echoing unnaturally in the room. "Oh, those idiots. Always meddling with things they don't understand. I should've guessed." She crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall. "And they're bringing back Wisdom, too?" Sylus's expression darkened, his voice low. "We think so." Jesua's laughter stopped abruptly, her smile fading as a cold shadow passed over her features. "Then you should be very, very afraid," she said, her voice suddenly serious. "Because if Wisdom wakes up, it won't matter how strong or clever you think you are. None of us will stand a chance." The chill in the room deepened, and even Jesua's eerie confidence seemed to falter momentarily as silence filled the air once more. Jesua's unnerving grin faltered, and for the first time, a flicker of weariness crossed her flawless features. Her shoulders sagged ever so slightly, and the piercing brilliance of her blue eyes dimmed, though her eerie confidence remained intact. She gave them a half-hearted, almost mocking smile, her gaze briefly lingering on Athena. "Well," Jesua murmured, her voice softer but no less unsettling, "this is going to be fun." Without another word, her form shimmered and dissipated, fading into thin air like smoke caught in the wind. Athena stumbled backward, clutching her head as her voice rang out in alarm. "She's in my head! I can hear her!" Sylus and Cyrus exchanged a heavy glance, letting out long, exasperated sighs in unison. Sylus ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. "Of course, this had to get more complicated." Cyrus leaned against the wall, his expression dark. "We can't trust her. She's a Pillar—or a Warlock, whatever she wants to call herself. Trickery is literally her name." "And she has Athena," Sylus said grimly, gesturing to the young mage, who was still clutching her head, her breathing heavy. "As long as she's bound to her, there's nothing we can do without risking Athena's life." The weight of their situation settled heavily between them, their shared silence punctuated only by Athena's sharp breaths as she tried to compose herself. Finally, Sylus straightened, his expression firm. "We need answers," he said. "And if Jesua won't give us any, we're going to have to find them ourselves." Cyrus nodded slowly. "The dungeon. The third flower. That's where we first ran into the Winter Deers and Decay. If anything's left behind, it might give us a clue." Athena took a deep breath, lowering her hands from her temples. "Fine," she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her eyes. "Let's go." The trek back to the dungeon was grueling, their path marked by an unrelenting chill that seemed to seep into their bones. When they finally descended to the third flower, a wave of unease swept over them. What had once been a thriving, chaotic expanse of snow-covered ground and the eerie presence of the Winter Deers was now barren. The entire floor was a desolate snow plain, marked by nothing but dead trees that jutted out of the ground like skeletal fingers. The wind howled softly, carrying with it a sense of profound emptiness. No footprints, no corpses, no sign that the battle had ever taken place—just a white wasteland stretching endlessly before them. Cyrus crouched, running his hand over the icy ground. "There's nothing here," he muttered, his voice heavy with frustration. Athena shivered, her gaze scanning the horizon. "It's like everything just... vanished," she said, her voice barely audible over the wind. Sylus stood silently, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the emptiness. "Or it was erased," he said finally, his tone grim. "Whatever we're dealing with is more powerful than we imagined. We need to be prepared for the worst." The trio advanced cautiously through the barren expanse of the third floor, their senses on high alert. Every step was careful, every shadow scrutinized, their previous encounters having taught them not to trust anything in this dungeon. Yet, despite their vigilance, the snowbound wasteland revealed nothing but empty desolation. The only sign of their progress was the growing outline of the next descent—a stone arch carved into the cliffside, draped with frost and rimed with faint, eerie light. "This feels like walking into the maw of something we can't see," Cyrus muttered as they reached the entrance. Sylus nodded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Stay sharp." Athena swallowed hard, her fingers curling around her staff as they stepped forward in unison. The air shifted as they passed through the threshold, and in the blink of an eye, the chill and stark whiteness vanished. When their eyes adjusted, the contrast left them breathless. They found themselves standing in the middle of a lush, vibrant jungle. Towering trees with sprawling canopies painted the sky in hues of green and gold, while luminous flowers in every imaginable color glowed gently in the underbrush. Streams of crystal-clear water crisscrossed the landscape, and an otherworldly mist hung lazily in the air. But it wasn't just nature that captured their attention—it was the dwellings. Hundreds of houses, woven seamlessly into the environment, dotted the jungle floor and perched among the trees. The structures were beautiful, their designs a harmonious blend of organic and architectural, as though grown rather than built. The three froze as they caught sight of the inhabitants. People. Or, at least, they looked like people. Every single one was impossibly beautiful, their appearances striking enough to leave the trio uneasy. Their tan skin shimmered faintly in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy, and their angelic wings were adorned with intricate patterns of feathers and foliage, seamlessly fused with the jungle's vibrant aesthetic. Black tattoos twisted in elegant, abstract patterns across their skin, and their verdant eyes seemed to pierce through the soul. Hair the color of deep green vines cascaded down their backs or was bound in elaborate braids.