The Demon of The North-Chapter 153 - 152. Loud Boom Sound

"Ohh..." Roxanne let out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe normally. Though the mana in the air is still thin compared to what she was used to on the mainland, it felt easier now, lighter somehow.

"So, that’s the difference." She continued, her voice filled with awe as she held her wife’s hand tightly, their fingers intertwined.

They stood in silence, gazing at the Tree of Life rising before them, something the Kaelindorian people had never needed, never depended on, or never even thought to create for themselves. Kaelindorian was born saturated with mana; life here breathed it, drank it, and grew within it. For them, existence had always been effortless in that regard.

However, for the Aerthysians, this tree represents everything they hold dear. This tree is also one of the reasons the Aerthysians have survived as long as they have. Their ships were not just vessels of wood and sail but living extensions of the Tree of Life that once stood on Aerthysia.

Its roots had been carved into their hulls, its blessings woven into their timbers, allowing them to endure centuries at sea, sustained by borrowed mana that was never truly their own.

Towering before them, the tree stretched its branches heavenward, its leaves shimmering like golden stars against the twilight sky. Each leaf glinted with a warm, ethereal light, and as the sun dipped lower, the golden hue intensified, bathing the surroundings in a soft, magical glow.

Roxanne’s eyes widened as she took in the sight before them. From the roots of the Tree of Life, waterfalls burst forth, clear, luminous streams cascading over smooth stone. The water shimmered like scattered diamonds, each drop catching the light as it fell, filling the air with a steady, living sound. It wasn’t merely water.

They could feel it, mana flowing within it, gentle yet unmistakable. Not as dense or overwhelming as the mana that saturated Kaelindor’s mainland, but enough. Enough to sustain life.

"Oh," Roxanne murmured, her voice quieter now, touched with something close to humility. "Turns out we’ve taken everything for granted all this time." Her gaze lingered on the streams, on the way, the land around them already seemed less barren, less hollow.

"Yes," Vivianne said softly beside her. "I just realized it now, too."

She watched the tree in silence, her thoughts drifting far beyond the island. Twice she had lived in this world, and only now did she begin to truly understand it, not just Kaelindor, not just power and conquest, but the fragile balance that allowed different peoples to exist at all.

Other continents. Other lives. One land cursed and rotting under broken kings. Another survived only because the Tree of Life sustained it. These were experiences she had never encountered in her past life. Things that had never happened before.

And her thoughts darted to the Aerthysians who had endured because their ships were bound to a Tree of Life born in their homeland. Without it, they would have withered slowly. And here, in this new island, is their answer. A new root. A new chance.

Vivianne squeezed Roxanne’s hand, grounding her in the moment. Her touch is warm, steady, and familiar. "Now we know," she said quietly.

The four Spirit Kings hovered before the newly manifested Tree of Life, they stood in their full forms now, vast, radiant, and unmistakably sovereign.

The Tree of Life behind them pulsed softly, its glow steady and deep, far stronger and purer than anything that had ever existed in Aerthysia.

Its roots spread wide, anchoring themselves not just into the island but into the greater flow of Kaelindor’s mana itself. The Spirit Kings smiled, an expression that carried both pride and quiet satisfaction, and then, together, they turned to Vivianne.

They bowed. Not shallow, not symbolic, but reverent. Vivianne inhaled sharply, instinctively stepping forward. For a brief moment, she looked almost startled, but she understood the meaning. She returned the bow with equal sincerity, lowering her head, hands folded, honoring them as they honored her.

Roxanne watched in silence, the sight of the four spirit kings treating her wife so reverently always makes her proud. "Now," Roxanne began, turning slightly as relief finally loosened her shoulders, "we can tell Red to—"

The world shook, which cut Roxanne’s words.

A thunderous boom rolled across the island, deep and violent, ripping through the air like a giant fist striking the horizon. The ground trembled beneath their feet, loose soil skittering across stone. Birds burst from the treeline in panicked flocks.

Roxanne reacted instantly, she pulled Vivianne into her arms, wings half-unfurling on instinct, her body angling protectively between her wife and the unknown threat. Vivianne’s hand tightened in Roxanne’s coat, her senses already reaching outward, only to meet that same unsettling silence where spirits should have answered.

Marvessa didn’t wait for orders. Marvessa shot upward in a blur, using her bond with the wind spirit as she climbed high above the island, her eyes sharp and scanning the distant horizon while following the echo of the sound toward the sea.

"What was that?" Roxanne asked.

The sound rolled across the sea like distant thunder, low and heavy, vibrating through the air and into the bone. Roxanne tightened her hold around Vivianne instinctively, wings half-spread, eyes already scanning the horizon.

The Tree of Life behind them hummed softly, its newly formed roots glowing faintly as if reacting to the disturbance. Marvessa was already airborne in a heartbeat, using her bonded wing spirit power as she climbed higher, her gaze piercing toward the open waters.

Then Vivianne spoke, slowly, her voice edged with something sharp and unfamiliar. "That," she said, "did not come from this island."

Her eyes changed, the pupils dilated, and purple blended into silverish eyes as the spirit kings lent her their senses. The world widened around her, the distance, vibration, intent. She could feel the sea now, feel the displacement of water, the pressure of hulls cutting through waves far beyond mortal vision.

Another rumble followed, fainter but unmistakable. Marvessa froze midair, seeing something. But Vivianne’s sight is clearer than Marvessa’s.

"I see them," Vivianne said, disbelief tightening her voice. "Fifteen ships."

Roxanne’s jaw clenched. "Describe them."

Marvessa swallowed, then forced herself to breathe evenly. "Seven in the lead. Same design as the Aerthysian vessels docked near Borough. Long hulls, living wood frames, and mana-veined keels. They’re damaged—burn marks, broken rigging—but still moving."

Vivianne’s grip on Roxanne’s arm tightened. Aerthysian ships. More of them. Survivors. "And behind them?" Roxanne asked, already knowing the answer.

Marvessa’s wings trembled. "Eight ships. Larger. Heavier. Calonian." She added, before Vivianne could even respond.

Fifteen massive silhouettes emerged from the afternoon haze, cutting through the sea in brutal pursuit. The leading seven ships moved with desperate speed, sails strained, hulls groaning under the effort. Even from this distance, the scars are visible: splintered sides patched with resin and blackened streaks where fire had scorched living wood.

They were running. Behind them came the hunters.

Eight Calonian warships advanced in a grim, methodical line, larger than the Aerthysian vessels by nearly half again. Their hulls were iron-banded, reinforced with dark stone and bone.

Towering masts bristled with weapons, harpoon launchers, cannons, and hooked chains meant for boarding. Their sails are crimson and black, stretched taut like predator wings.

"The same class as the one that docked at Rothschild," Roxanne said quietly, recognition sharpening her tone. "Siege carriers."

"Bigger, even," Marvessa added.

Vivianne could feel it now, the terror rolling off the Aerthysian ships like heat. Fear layered with exhaustion, grief, and a desperate, fragile hope. "They’re heading here," Vivianne said.

"To us," Roxanne finished, and this time she didn’t bother hiding the thrill that sparked in her chest. Her lips curved upward, sharp and eager. "Eight ships, you say? Calonian orcs?"

"Yes," Vivianne replied, her voice steady, though her eyes had already shifted—irises catching an otherworldly gleam as the spirits lent her their senses. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Before Roxanne could say another word, a sudden rush of wind tore through the air above them. A massive whir of wings thundered overhead, powerful enough to rattle loose pebbles and send ripples across the newborn waters near the Tree of Life. Roxanne turned instinctively, hand already tightening around Vivianne’s waist.

Dark silhouettes descended from the sky. At their head is a demon with obsidian wings spread wide, horns sweeping back from his temples, and crimson eyes bright with unmistakable mirth.

He landed lightly despite his size, his foot touching the ground as if gravity itself bent to his will. Behind him followed half a battalion of elite demon fighters.

Grand Duke Ashkareth of the Erevalis Grand Duchy. Roxanne’s breath caught. "Father," she said.

Ashkareth straightened and flashed her a grin so wide it bordered on feral. "Am I late?" he asked casually, glancing toward the distant horizon where dark shapes cut across the sea. "I heard that lion already had his party."

Roxanne let out a short laugh. "You’re not late. We’ve just received an incoming."

Ashkareth’s eyes gleamed. "So," he said, rolling his shoulders as his wings folded slightly behind him, "we’re fighting together this time?"

"Yes," Roxanne replied without hesitation, matching his smile.

Vivianne sighed and shook her head, though there’s fondness beneath her exasperation. "You two really need to be serious," she muttered. Then her expression shifted, already turning inward, calculating. "I’ll return to the mainland. I need more mana if I’m going to share my senses properly with both of you."

"All right," Roxanne said, her voice steady despite the tension tightening her chest. "Marvessa, make sure my wife is safe. And tell Red to give instructions for the two Aerthysian fleets to head for this island. After that, have him follow me."

Her gaze never left Vivianne as she spoke, worry clear in her crimson eyes. Being away from her Omega can sometimes make her frustrated, especially in a time like this.

"Yes, Your Highness," Marvessa replied without hesitation.

Vivianne, however, only smiled. "My emperor," she said softly, stepping closer, her voice warm and teasing in a way only she could manage at a moment like this. "I’m the bearer of the Spirit Kings. I’m stronger than those Calonian orcs."

Her smile is sweet, too sweet, and Roxanne felt her body betray her with a faint shudder. She knew that smile. It’s the same one Vivianne wore before doing something terrifyingly decisive.

Roxanne exhaled, then nodded, lifting a hand to cup Vivianne’s cheek. "All right, my beloved," she said quietly. "Be careful. I’ll see you soon."

Vivianne leaned into the touch, eyes softening. "I’ll see you soon."

As they parted, a presence stepped forward, heat and pressure rippling faintly through the air. Ashkareth, his demonic form half-unfurled, inclined his head with respect to his daughter-in-law and also the Luna on the continent.

"I will have one of my captains stay with your wife," he said. "She will not stand alone."

Roxanne met his gaze and nodded once in thanks. Then, with one last look at Vivianne, at the woman who’s both her anchor and her greatest strength, she turned.

Demonic wings unfurled in a powerful sweep, scattering loose sand and mana-charged air alike. With a thunderous beat, Roxanne launched herself skyward, her form cutting toward the distant horizon where ships loomed like dark omens against the sea. Ashkareth and his battalion are following her closely.

Vivianne watched her go, hand resting lightly over her heart. "She worries too much," she murmured.

"She loves deeply," Marvessa replied, stepping into position at Vivianne’s side. Her eyes swept the horizon, measuring distance, movement, and threat. "That is why she rules."

Vivianne let out a faint breath of amusement, though her gaze remained sharp. Love had never been her weakness. If anything, it had sharpened her resolve, giving her something worth protecting beyond crowns and borders.

She reached inward, toward the familiar current that answered her call. Tempest’s power stirred. The air bent around her, curling around her ankles and waist. Mana, even if it’s thin here, answered nonetheless. Her feet left the ground without strain, robes fluttering softly as she rose.

"We’ll have a long day, Marvessa," Vivianne said, her voice calm and steady.

Marvessa inclined her head. "Yes, Your Highness."