Reincarnated As Poseidon
Chapter 31: War (Varun)

Chapter 31: War (Varun)

The sea was still boiling with the echoes of war. Crimson clouds hovered over the ruined coral spires. The cries of the fallen mingled with the groaning of the deep, as if the ocean itself was mourning. Dominic floated just above the battlefield, blood trickling down his temple, his trident clutched tight in his grip. He hadn’t felt this drained in his new life—not since awakening as Poseidon. Yet, something primal still surged within him.

"They just keep coming..." he muttered, teeth gritted. His eyes flickered across the battlefield—Naerida’s guards clashed with the monstrous choirlings that Lyrielle had summoned. These weren’t ordinary sea beasts. Each of them pulsed with corrupted siren magic, eyes burning blue like ghost fire, their movements fluid and cruel.

A sudden current swirled behind him. Dominic turned sharply—Aegirion was still alive, but just barely, holding onto a stone shard from a broken sea tower.

"Don’t lose focus," Aegirion said weakly, his chest heaving, blood blooming from a deep gash across his side. "She’s not done. Lyrielle hasn’t even shown her true form yet."

Dominic narrowed his eyes. The deep choir had backed off, but the ocean didn’t feel calm. It felt like the silence before a massive storm.

Meanwhile, leagues away in the Abyssal Trenches, Lyrielle stood before her dark throne. A chorus of sirens surrounded her—each with scales blackened from corrupted magic, their lips stained with blood. Her fingers traced an ancient artifact—the Siren Keystone—resting in her palm. Her eyes shimmered as visions flooded her mind.

"So, you finally bleed, Trident-Bearer," she whispered with a smirk. "Let’s make you drown in your own crown."

She raised her arm. The choir screamed in unison, the shockwave rippling across the seabed. From the darkness below, something stirred.

Naerida, still within her war council chambers, snapped her head up. She felt it too.

"The Leviathan of Old is waking..." her advisor murmured.

"No..." Naerida whispered. Her pale lips trembled. "She’s calling it. Lyrielle’s calling the Sea’s Ender."

Dominic, back on the ruined field, flinched as a tremor vibrated through the water. The moonlight filtering through the sea’s surface flickered like a failing lantern.

Then—

BOOM.

The seabed cracked open. A rift tore through the trench, glowing with violet light. From its depths emerged the Leviathan—an ancient, colossal beast with eyes older than the gods. Its body coiled like a serpent’s, plated in abyssal armor, mouth wide enough to swallow cities.

Even Hades, in the Underworld, stirred. His skeletal court whispered in dread.

"What is this power?" Hades hissed. "What madness walks the sea again?"

Dominic shouted over the rising quake, "Fall back! Everyone—fall back now!"

But it was too late. The Leviathan roared, and the sea bent in agony. Coral towers shattered like glass. Warriors—human, merfolk, and beast alike—were swept away by the blast of pure pressure.

Aegirion tried to stand, blood dripping into the waves, but collapsed again. "Dominic—" he gasped. "You must awaken the Vault fully... the last seal... it’s the only way."

But Dominic hesitated. The vault? The one he feared might consume him?

The Leviathan roared again, and Dominic had no choice. He gritted his teeth and summoned his last strength.

As he darted upward toward the broken temple spire where the Vault pulsed faintly, Lyrielle appeared in front of him.

"Going somewhere, little god?" she sang sweetly.

Dominic’s eyes widened.

The ocean was silent now.

The roar of war had faded, and the battlefield beneath the waves looked like a graveyard. Coral shattered. Statues split in half. The once-pristine waters ran murky red, thick with blood and smoke.

Dominic floated amid it all, barely conscious. His trident drifted beside him, cracked at the tip. His body was bruised, gashed from shoulder to side. Each breath he took was shallow, his vision foggy.

He blinked.

Something above moved—a shadow.

His hand twitched, reaching for the trident out of instinct. But another hand caught his wrist.

"Easy," came a familiar voice. "You’re still breathing. That’s something."

It was Naerida.

She had a deep cut across her arm and blood on her lips, but she was alive. She knelt beside him and helped steady his body in the drifting currents.

"They’re retreating," she said, looking into the distance where the dark fog of the Deep Choir had finally withdrawn. "But they’ll be back. That was only a taste of Lyrielle’s madness."

Dominic coughed, the saltwater burning his throat. "A taste? That... that wasn’t even her full strength?"

Naerida didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

The answer was written in the tremble of her shoulders.

She turned away from him, gaze rising toward the wreckage above—the broken pillars of her palace, the collapsed shields, the fallen soldiers.

Dominic clenched his jaw. "I saw him... I saw Varun. He was watching. He didn’t even lift a hand to help. Just observed... like a god playing chess."

Naerida remained quiet for a moment, then muttered, "That’s because it’s exactly what he’s doing."

A pause.

Dominic tried to sit up but winced. "Where’s Aegirion?"

Naerida turned slowly. Her silence was enough.

Dominic’s stomach sank. His heartbeat spiked. "He’s... dead?"

She finally met his eyes. "He bought us time. He faced the Deep Choir’s siren leader alone—just so we could regroup. The choir didn’t kill him. He awakened something... and it consumed him."

Dominic’s fists tightened around the coral beneath him. "No... I—I didn’t trust him, but... he didn’t deserve that."

"None of us do," she whispered.

Suddenly, a tremor shook the water.

Both of them looked up.

A new pulse. Low, heavy, ancient.

It didn’t come from Lyrielle’s domain. It wasn’t the Deep Choir.

It came from beneath.

Naerida’s eyes widened. "The Vault..."

Dominic blinked. "What?"

Naerida swam upward quickly, then turned back to him. "The Vault... it’s resonating. Something’s waking up inside it."

Dominic cursed softly. "So, it’s not over."

"No," she replied. "It’s just beginning."

From far below, deep within the ocean trench where Poseidon’s Vault rested, a massive circular seal began to spin slowly. The blue runes etched into it glowed. A figure, bound in chains of black stone, stirred.

A creature not seen for eons.

It opened one eye. Just one. The sea around it bubbled instantly.

The eye was golden, ancient, and full of hate.

---

Cut To: Lyrielle’s Citadel

Lyrielle stood at her obsidian balcony, watching the bloodied ocean stretch into the horizon. Her fingers traced the edge of a harp made of bones.

"They fought harder than expected," she murmured.

A robed acolyte behind her spoke. "Should we deploy the next wave?"

She shook her head. "No. Let them rebuild. Let them hope. The Vault will break before I even sing again."

She turned to the side. A mirror of dark water shimmered beside her.

Within it, she saw a glimpse of the chained being awakening beneath the sea.

"Ah," she whispered. "So, the old god still lives."

She smiled.

And it wasn’t kind.

---

Cut To: The Edge of the Sea of Skulls

Hades stood atop a jagged cliff, black robe flowing with the cursed winds.

The war of the sea had reached even him.

He stared at the ocean, his pale eyes narrowing.

"What stirs beneath Thalorenn is not yours, brother," he said aloud.

Behind him, Thanatos stepped out from the shadows. "Shall we intervene?"

Hades raised a skeletal finger. "Not yet. Let the boy bleed first. I want to see how far a reincarnated god can fall before he begs for death."

He smiled darkly. "Then we’ll collect what remains."

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