Chapter 661 Sea Elf

"If ya didn't know, then yeah-- there's lakes down here." Krysaos explained, "Usually hafta go a lot deeper than we are for 'em, though. S'made up of saltier water that's heavier than the rest of it. They're mystical-lookin', so obviously there's a god to 'em."

Tycon scoffed at the concept... though he could not argue against it.

Since time immemorial, people of the Realm have worshipped that which they could not explain. The everpresent sun and the twinkling stars were shining examples.

...The Holy Country founded a religion based on a sentient flaming brazier that had burned for centuries.

If an entire nation could rally behind that, it wasn't difficult for Tycon to believe people worshipping anything else.

After swimming over a ridge, he peered over and down, a fantastic underwater lake filling his vision. It easily made up three-quarters of the humongous cavern, was lined with various structures and teemed with more life and vigor than the rest of the city.

He even spied a dock, where some fishfolk were utilizing what appeared to be... fishing rods.

...Thinking on it deeply was giving Tycon a dull headache, so he decided to focus on kicking his legs to keep up with his company.

The group approached a white-rock building, presumably a temple of sorts. The settlement was large enough to have multiple of such structures, throughout, but this one was... smaller-- more humble.

Tycon spied a peculiar, pearlescent rock formation near the entrance, and swum close to inspect it.

It was... a sword, its hilt emergent from the bedrock and with edges sharp enough to draw blood, if one were careless. Nearby, were similar swords arranged in a haphazard row, ranging in height from six to eight fulms.

Krysaos swam beside him, treading water in place, "What'cha lookin' at, LT?"

Tycon twisted his lips... "I've seen these before."

...They bore a striking resemblance to those in the courtyard of the East Charm Trading Company headquarters in Nice.

"It's the symbol of the Lake Goddess," Krysaos explained with a shrug.

"Again... I'm not familiar with such a god," Tycon frowned. "However... seeing this particular symbol again is... baffling."

"Maybe she's got a different name on the surface?" The Captain suggested.

"...Perhaps," Tycon nodded slowly.

That would explain much.

"Let's head inside," Krysaos gestured towards the coral archways of the temple entrance. "Our babysitters don't look like they're gonna leave anytime soon."

Tycon glanced back at their armed escort. Some had posted around the temple, while the mounted sahuagin circled their sharks around the perimeter.

If he had thought they were here to guard them, the notion would have been comforting. However, the finned and web-footed humanoids kept vigilant, eyeing them with great suspicion just shy of open hostility.

Upon entering the white-rock temple, Krysaos yawned and stretched his arms.

...which colored Tycon with a tinge of envy that the fellow had retained such mobility.

"Water mana's pretty good in here," Krysaos smirked. "Won't need to worry about the Water Pearls runnin' outta juice."

"Practicing your mana sense, I see," Tycon raised an eyebrow.

The Captain scoffed and chuckled to himself, "Ah haha. Shut up, LT."

The temple was filled with more religious imagery... and all were likewise too familiar to him.

Five fingered hands were etched into various surfaces, notably different from the webbed hands of a sahuagin...

Images of the Lake Goddess depicted her as a faceless elf with white, elongated arms, eyes and runes etched on her various appendages.

Eyes.

The images of them were commonplace, as well. It made Tycon slightly uneasy... as they were carved in a way that made it appear he was under constant surveillance from more than just the reef guardians outside.

[Has the chosen one appeared?] A light voice echoed in his head, [And not just one, but two?]

A young woman floated down from above them, her upper torso that of a nude sea elf, and her lower, of a green mermaid tail, similar to Mina's. She had shaved parts of her head and the dark green hair that remained resembled a tri-bladed fin similar to some of her sahuagin peers.

As there were no other temple-goers in their immediate vicinity, he presumed the voice in his head belonged to her.

⟬ Atlantea, Bronze-Rank Malenti Oracle. ⟭

That she had the form of an elf was not surprising. The former sahuagin scout leader, Anaru, had the same transformation ability.

However, the young woman did have a third eye on her forehead, which remained closed. After observing so many sentient seafolk, Tycon judged that to be an uncommon trait.

He straightened his back and cleared his throat-- causing an awkward bubble due to his environment.

Yet after several seconds... Captain Krysaos had yet to introduce himself, as rank dictated.

He glanced to the side... to see the human gawking at the mermaid girl's ample breasts.

"Brother-Captain," Tycon muttered quietly. "I advise you to direct your eyes to the Priestess' face."

"I've made my choice," Krysaos mumbled.

Trying not to let his frustration show, Tycon performed the introductions:

"Good afternoon. My name is Lieutenant Tycondrius and this is my companion, Krysaos, Captain of the Neptune's Revenge."

[Perhaps you are the answer to my prayers? The savior I saw in my dreams?] The mermaid smiled, [Would you refer to this one as... Atlantea?]

"Very well," Tycon nodded... before nudging Krysaos in the side with his knee.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah..." The Captain grinned... like an old lech. "I can fulfill your fantasies,"

Tycon made a mental note that Krysaos was largely useless when speaking to attractive females in power.

"Oracle Atlantea, the crew of the Neptune's Revenge has decimated the Black Crow Pirate base on the eastern island," He explained.

He was being modest. In truth, the force of the Black Crow Pirates have been largely annihilated.

Their hundreds were reduced to single-digit survivors. Each of their ships in port had been sunk. Their island fort had become a haven for ravenous undead and was no longer inhabitable by any living sentients.

",